#Live Cell Encapsulation

[healthcare-updates-with-sns]

Live Cell Encapsulation Market: Market Trends and Market Growth 2024-2032

The Live Cell Encapsulation Market was valued at USD 268.7 million in 2023 and is projected to reach USD 492.8 million by 2031, growing at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 7.9% during the forecast period of 2024–2031. This growth reflects the increasing adoption of cell-based therapies and regenerative medicine across the globe.

Market Overview Live cell encapsulation is a cutting-edge biotechnology process used to enclose living cells within semi-permeable membranes. This technique allows the exchange of nutrients and waste while protecting the encapsulated cells from the host's immune system. It has vast potential in treating chronic diseases such as diabetes, cancer, and neurodegenerative disorders. The surge in chronic conditions worldwide, along with advancements in cell biology, is contributing significantly to market expansion.

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Regional Analysis

North America holds the largest market share due to high R&D investments, presence of leading biotech firms, and growing acceptance of cell-based therapies.

Europe follows closely, supported by favorable regulatory frameworks and funding for regenerative medicine.

Asia-Pacific is anticipated to witness the fastest growth, driven by increasing healthcare expenditure, a growing patient population, and rising awareness of advanced treatment options.

Latin America and the Middle East & Africa show promising growth potential, though currently represent smaller market shares.

Market Segmentation

By Method:

Macroencapsulation

Microencapsulation

Nanoencapsulation

By Application:

Drug Delivery

Regenerative Medicine

Cell Transplantation

Others

By Polymer Type:

Natural Polymers (Alginate, Chitosan, Collagen)

Synthetic Polymers (Polyethylene Glycol, Polyvinyl Alcohol)

By End User:

Pharmaceutical & Biotechnology Companies

Academic & Research Institutes

Hospitals & Clinics

Key Players

The major players are AUSTRIANOVA, Merck KGaA, Sphere Fluidics Ltd., ViaCyte, Inc., Blacktrace Holdings Ltd. (Dolomite Microfluidics), BIO INX, Living Cell Technologies Ltd., Sigilon Therapeutics, Inc., Isogen, Diatranz Otsuka Ltd., Arsenal Biosciences, and Others.

Key Market Highlights

Rising prevalence of chronic diseases like diabetes and cancer fuels demand for advanced cell-based therapies.

Microencapsulation dominates the method segment due to its versatility and high viability rate.

Natural polymers such as alginate remain the preferred material due to biocompatibility.

North America leads in revenue share, while Asia-Pacific emerges as the fastest-growing region.

Strategic collaborations and ongoing clinical trials contribute to competitive advancements.

Future Scope The future of the Live Cell Encapsulation Market looks robust, driven by innovation in biomaterials and improvements in encapsulation techniques. With regulatory bodies increasingly approving cell-based treatments and personalized medicine gaining traction, the market is set for transformative growth. Expansion into emerging economies and the integration of AI and automation into encapsulation processes could further streamline production and enhance treatment efficacy, paving the way for next-gen therapeutic applications.

Conclusion As the demand for advanced therapeutic solutions continues to rise, the Live Cell Encapsulation Market is poised to become a key segment within the biotechnology landscape. Continued investment in R&D, technological innovation, and strategic partnerships will play a crucial role in shaping the market's trajectory over the coming years.

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Cell Viability Assay Market

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Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Treatment Market

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[luluahxo]

bonachita

14k - unedited - ni-ki x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, drug use, parental abuse, suicidal ideation

(this is unedited, its been in my drafts for over a month so I decided I'd just post it, maybe edit it in the future and move onto writing my other drafts. also met the most diabolical florida man while I was at the end of writing this. thinking of u babe!)

summary: my heart is a mess of thick, congealed blood from the pressure of the speed. I associated him with the paresthesia in my chest. I associated him with the sickness I enjoyed. cursed I believed myself to be, I didn’t mind being reworked. reworked into his image. this is not love but this is a bond. One that I cherish. drive me around the track in your Trans-Am one more time. take me to Bonachita. die with me there.

its florida in the spring when you meet Riki, the boy who encapsulates everything you silently dreamed for and everything you runaway from

[00MPH]

My heart is a mess of thick, congealed blood from the pressure of the speed. I associated him with the paresthesia in my chest. I associated him with the sickness I enjoyed. Cursed I believed myself to be, I didn’t mind being reworked. Reworked into his image. This is not love but this is a bond. One that I cherish. 

Drive me around the track in your Trans-Am one more time. 

Take me to Bonachita. 

Die with me there. 

[01MPH]

We first met with no words exchanged between us. I often spent time in the campus lounge situated on the first floor of the library.

Not wanting to go home or study, I was killing time by watching the 1970 Trans Am season. With my cell phone in hand and the sound of a race playing, I headed towards the vending machine for a snack, where he was crouched.

Only the tips of his blond hair could be seen peeking out from the gaps in his black hoodie.

I stared back at him awkwardly before realizing I should lower the volume on my phone. It was just me and him in the lounge on a Friday night but he seemed bothered by the noise. His face was striking, each feature harmonious like an old oil painting. His brows knit together and creased into the folds in between making an expression that gave me a sense of embarrassment. I gave up on getting a snack all together and went back to my seat.

I wouldn’t see him again for a while 

[02MPH]

I stayed on campus until late because I was a’ problem child’. To go home would be to bring problems. Me and my mother never agree, I’d always somehow manage to do the wrong thing. 

In her words ‘sorry meant nothing’. Her fits of anger often ended in something thrown or broken. Sometimes I felt like I deserved it. Other times I found her suffocating and over reactive. 

When I got to university I became a worse problem but all the same to her. 

I was frustrated I couldn’t leave my home or the shitty rundown town we lived in - no chance I’d ever have enough money. 

In my restless dissatisfaction I picked up some habits from the people around me. The first was cigarettes. Something about the smoky and burnt taste it left in my mouth soothed me alongside the buzz of nicotine. The time I started smoking was the time I also began accepting my college friends inviting me out.

I began going to campus parties but I never got wasted. Instead I began taking pills like valium or xanax. 

I sat slumped in the corners of houses and frat party bathrooms, happy in the intense drowsy calm I felt. 

I felt so damned.

In my blurred memories I can still remember when the boy from the vending machine appeared in front of me.

It was towards the end of Spring semester and I sat, muscles loose, by the edge of the pool. 

He was swimming in illuminated waters, the only light that shone in the pitch black night. Slowly he swam towards me, pushing his elbows up outside the pool and splashing water onto my face. I had been cut by the broken glass in one of my mother’s fits again that night and the chlorine in the water burned the fresh wound under my eye. 

Wincing from the pain I opened my eyes back to see a familiar face. That was when I knew it was him. His recognizable hair was now dark at the tips but his roots remained blond. Among everyone else he stood out. He said something I couldn’t understand in my drugged up mind and I leaned forward  to hear him better but my weak body fell into the water. 

My cut burned just as much as my lungs that inhaled the pool water. I could only see the surface become farther and in a numbing limbo I sank. My body wouldn’t move how I wanted. I couldn’t get my arms to push me upwards. My mind felt as if it was falling asleep and the urgency my body should feel was shut off. My half open eyes saw a silhouette come down towards me and I thought maybe it was an angel ready to take my soul away and relay my sins. 

The angel was a blur of blond that came to lift me out. Yet it was no angel, it was a boy.

His hands left a prickling sensation on my cold skin. My clothes stuck to my skin as closely as his gaze that never relented. I was pressed against him chest to chest, holding me afloat. 

All I could say was “Who are you?”

He told me his name was Riki and he held me in the pool throughout the night as I drifted out of consciousness, wondering if this was a fraction of what death felt like.

[03MPH]

I woke up feeling soggy sheets beneath me. The ceiling didn’t look familiar and my muscles were twitching from the crash of all the valium I took. My eyes regained focus but my mind remained foggy as I sat up and saw in front of me a passed out Riki in a chair. I called out his name but my voice came out hoarse. I could feel my muscles tighten uncomfortably as I crawled towards him and reached out from the edge of the bed. 

To be honest I was becoming terrified at the unfamiliar setting. I had no idea where I was and my own body could barely function. I collapsed forward causing my fingertips to graze Riki’s knee. My face was nestled in the sheets and I felt my muscles wreak havoc on my state of being. My jaw fell slack from the sheer pain of the spasms. 

I could hear movement from where Riki sat and no longer felt his knee against my hand.

He groaned from what I could tell was him waking up. The chair squeaked as he stood to his feet and a small shadow fell over me. A cold hand wrapped around my chin and I faced his sleepy eyes looking down at me. 

“You’re a mess aren’t you.”

I could see his hair was still damp as if he came here with me straight from the pool. His cold hands pushed me up to sit on my legs which he pulled out from under me to hang over the bed. His other hand rested on the back of my head. In his freezing embrace I shook. The only warmth I felt was from the small tears that began to form in my eyes. 

Riki began to caress my hair, his hand that moved my legs wrapping around my side.

I wanted to ask why he was treating a stranger like this but my voice was still gone from my dry throat and mouth.

“You’ll be fine,” he said. His words confused me more than they soothed me. 

Sometimes my body reacted badly to the pills I took but it’d always pass. This reaction was heightened compared to all those in the past though. 

I hated to appear this way in front of a stranger.

I pressed my hands down into the mattress and tried to lift myself up on my own. Horsley I managed to ask where we were. 

He told me it was his campus apartment. 

My voice came out disgustingly as I responded in shock, “Why? I don't know you.”

He sighed and leaned back on his palms.

“What else could I do when you passed out in my arms. You didn’t come with any friends.”

At my silence he got up and pulled the sheets off the bed from beneath me, noting they were wet due to coming straight from the pool. He left the room and I sat looking down at myself. My shorts had ridden up my thighs, my shirt strap was falling off my shoulder, the fabric had bunched up, and my hair felt damp against skin. All the while my body still trembled.

I was an absolute mess.

Riki came back into the room with clean sheets, setting them down on the bedside table before helping me off the bed and into the chair he once sat in. 

“What time is it?”

He pointed at his small bedside clock, “Four in the morning.”

He threw the sheets over the bed and tucked them in as I watched

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

If I went home like this my mother would do more than throw a bottle. 

“If you don’t mind.”

He smiled and said he didn’t.

I decided I’d hold my questions for when I wasn’t in such a pathetic state.

[04MPH]

I got ready to leave Riki’s apartment at around ten in the morning. I passed by him asleep on the couch while thinking of excuses to give my mother. His face was peaceful like an angel’s. I couldn’t help but admire the soft slope of his nose that led to his pouty lips illuminated by the morning light. I crouched down in front of him and at my presence his eyelashes fluttered open. He seemed to be a light sleeper. Sitting up he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and asked if I was leaving. 

“Yeah, but thank you for last night”

As I stood up he reached out for my wrist.

“Let me give you a ride.”

“It’s ok you helped me out enough.”

He sat up straight and persisted.

“No no it's really ok.”

I relented,

“Ok.”

I didn’t wanna pay for a ride anyway I guess.

He ran into his room, grabbing a hoodie and cap to cover the mess of his morning hair. I kicked my legs on the couch as he fumbled around the apartment, looking for his keys, brushing his teeth, and mumbling. He seemed more boyish in these moments than when I’d seen him before when his expression was cold and distant. Behind all the mysteriousness perhaps Riki was an average boy. I put my own shoes on and stood by the door.

Once Riki was ready, we headed out to his car. I stopped in amazement when I saw that it was a 2012 Boss.

It looked just like the car I'd seen in the 1970 Trans Am season. Even the retro stripes were perfectly recreated, and I couldn’t help laughing out loud in awe.

"You have a 302 Mustang?"

Riki smiled mischievously as he ran his hand down the side of the car.

"Do you like cars?"

"No, not really. But I like watching vintage races.”

"I've been obsessed with it since I saw it in the 70s season."

"It’s beautiful. You can drive a manual?"

Riki rolled his eyes a little and responded in amusement.

"Of course."

He unlocked the car and I got in the passenger seat. Riki immediately started the car and the Mustang rumbled to life. As he pulled out of the lot, the side pipes let out a sharp bark, echoing through the residence. 

“You’re definitely not from around here, no one can afford something like this here,” I mused.

“I’m not, I’m from Bonachita.”

“Bonachita?”

“It’s a West Coast city,” He turned and smirked at me, “But where are we going.”

“Just keep going straight, I'll tell you when to turn.”

“Do you party often?”

Riki’s question broke the silence in between my directions.

“I just started going this past semester, my friends invite me out sometimes.” “I didn’t see you with them though?”

It was true, me and my friends sort of went separate ways at parties. They’d probably find a guy, dance, drink and I’d find a good corner to get high off pills. Still, there were times we’d spend the night together.

“I saw you all alone too?”

Riki hummed, tapping the steering wheel in thought before answering.

“That was my first time going to one. I didn’t recognize much of anyone until I saw you so I came up to you but then everything happened.”

‘Didn’t someone invite you? How come you were all one.”

“Not really, I just heard around about it.”

“Not a party person, huh?”

His smile was shy, “No.”

“You’d think a boy that looks like you is.” 

“A boy like me?.”

“You know, dyed hair, ear piercings, the denim and leather jackets.”

“Just not my thing.”

“Rather focus on school?”

His nod was slow, like he had more reasoning than my explanation but ran with it.

I directed Riki all the way until a couple blocks before my house and had him drop me off.  

Before I could get out of the car he folded his hands on top of the steering wheel and rested on his chin to face me. 

“Don’t be a stranger.” 

It seemed our friendly conversation made me forget about all that happened just the night before. I didn’t know if he even realized I was gone on pills. What did he think? Was it even normal to bring a stranger home like that even if they had passed out? I didn’t know. I guess guys bring girls to their place all the time and have their way with them but Riki seemed to have had a different motivation. 

“Why’d you help me out so much?”

Riki hesitated for a brief second.

“You seemed lonely.”

“That on its own?”

His smile grew weak, “I guess I was too.”

At a party full of people ‘lonely’. Funny. 

I walked down the block home with my heart a little warmer than before.

[05MPH]

The warmth I felt was fresh blood. 

Don’t get my mother wrong, she’s not a violent woman. She’s just not okay. I shouldn’t have pushed her limits. If I was a little more considerate, if I thought of someone other than myself I wouldn’t experience this. 

Yet there I go thinking of myself all over again.

Silly of me to come home with a joy that neglected all my actions, forgetting that there's consequences for any decision. 

The moment I came through the door I saw her sitting at the dining room table a hall down. Her blank stare went nowhere but became sharp as I approached. Her sudden screams scratched at my ear drums, asking ‘where I was, who did I think I was, just because dad left do I think I can do whatever I want’. 

My apologies reached deaf ears. It was impossible regardless for me to look genuinely apologetic coming home like this. 

She held her head in her hands and kept mumbling over and over again before looking back up at me with an indescribable face.

With a final yell, she snapped, “Don’t look at me like that.” She threw her morning cup of coffee straight at me. 

Lucky for me it was empty. Still the porcelain shattered at contact and dug into the skin of my collarbone, eyebrow, and arms. The searing pain resounded simultaneously in every spot I had been pierced. At my feet the pieces of the cup lay like a halo. I couldn’t look up. I didn’t have it in me to face her eyes and could only count the pieces of shattered porcelain to hold back my burning tears that bubbled through my throat and to my eyes. 

She wouldn’t look at me or speak to me after. 

It’d last days.

She did that with my dad once.

She went upstairs.

I cleaned the mess.

[06MPH]

I trembled with anxiety as I bandaged my new cuts in the mirror. Every creak or slamming door made me flinch. Even though the bathroom door was locked I was afraid she’d walk in. From my school bag I pulled out a tiny plastic baggie I had for a while now. I was reluctant to use it, but I thought maybe it would ease the pain for now. I emptied the contents onto the counter top and attempted to line it up with the edge of a cleanser bottle. I brought my nose down to the edge and pressed my index finger against the side of my nose.

White powder glaciers, broken up and inhaled by me.

I rubbed my nose clean and quietly slipped through the front door. It was Monday, I had to show up to class. 

I never did make it though. 

Once I got to campus I found myself circling around hallways I’d never been down before. My brain found I had to read all the boards in the Humanities Department before going anywhere but then I also had to stare at the senselessly big television in the Business building that showed the stock market. I was in the Engineering hallway when I ran into Riki. When I saw him flocking out of class alongside the rest of his classmates I reacted with no inhibitions and grabbed onto his shoulder. His pretty face turned to me with shock. It’s been over a  week since we actually saw one another. Such an entrancing expression with the furrow in his brows. Immediately I begged him to take me for a ride.

”Let’s take a drive, let's go.”

He looked at me as if I told him to come with me and kill the president.

Maybe I came off suddenly but I bubbled with the desire to use my free will and so I did. This euphoria was blending my heart into my mind and I made decisions with no further contemplation than the mere thought.

”Please, please.”

”Do you not have class?”

”Do you have class?”

”No..”

My other hand rose to his shoulder as if I was a coach pep-talking my star athlete.

“Then let's go.”

He laughed me off, “I guess I can’t say no to you.”

[07MPH]

The bumps and slopes of the winding roads felt as if the wheels were shoes I wore while walking on the street. The speed with the windows down during a warm April evening could only be described as fresh. I felt this was the youth that I hadn't yet lived. The coke enhanced every passing gust of wind into a euphoria I wanted to drown in. I rested my shoulder blades on the open window and looked up at the sky, my hair blowing violently around me. Is that the sky where the angels sit looking down on us? Is it just a metaphor? Were the angels on my shoulders falling off from the accelerating speed of Riki’s car?  

I bent further out the window, now turning around to rest on my elbows before I felt a tug on my hair pulling me back inside the car.

Riki’s eyes stayed on the road just as his hands in my hair did. 

“Are you trying to kill yourself?”

I laughed deliriously and leaned onto his shoulder.

“No.”

Heaven is a beautiful place for the dead but I wouldn’t see it, so why die now?

Riki’s eyes flickered from me to the road again.

“Why is your face all cut up?”

I ignored him and bored holes into his side profile with my eyes. I wanted to take a piece of him, put it in my pocket, ingest it, make it a part of me, cherish it, admire it, possess it. Just never lose it.

I bit onto the sharp point of his jaw. It looked like it’d fit perfectly between my teeth, soft and supple skin, pulled taught around his bone. It felt like a layer of marshmallow candy. Sweet like his face, the taste.

Riki yelped out in pain.

“Actually what is wrong with you?!”

“You look so soft.”

“Are you on something?”

I shrugged my shoulders gleefully and sat back in my seat properly.

I felt my filter had really turned into dust.

“It just happens sometimes when my mom gets mad, she throws something, I get cut, the end. She’s just lonely without my dad, it’s only me and her so she’s sensitive.”

My head rolled over to face Riki and I spoke on.

“Are you lonely? Do you still feel lonely when you’re with me?”

Silence.

Until Riki finally countered.

“I'm not from here. I'm not even from the West Coast originally. I’ve met plenty of people, but still-

even if the city is full of people and the room is crowded, if you can't connect with anyone, it's just loneliness.

I thought that one day I would meet people I could truly connect with. But in the end, that "someone" never showed up.”

“Then who am I to you?”

His laugh was gentle, “A lucky stranger.”

“There's nothing lucky about me.”

“Then why am I happy?”

“Then smile at me.”

Riki never turned to look at me, but I saw the sweetest image of joy form in the shape of his lips, upwards, all the way to his genuine eyes.

[08MPH]

With no direction he drove onward, and the sun drifted down giving space for the moon.

After driving aimlessly Riki parked by the road next to the beach. There's no beach in Florida you could say isn’t a sight. 

I asked him if the West Coast beaches are anything like the ones in Florida. He said the water is a duller shade over there. I asked what the beach was like at his original home, before Bonachita. He said there's a coastline, it only exists in his memories blurred with time, but beautiful nonetheless and better than any Florida beach. 

I jested and said he must be homesick. My high is gone, I’m thinking of my own home when I ask. 

Riki said if he had to call a place home it would be there, and so yes he’s homesick.

I asked him why he's far from home.

The reason is he wants to be a mechanical engineer, there's no better place than the US to get an education for it. He has the money to back it too. 

He turns the conversation back onto me.

“What are you studying for?”

I don’t know. I went into college as a Physics major. Would I go to professional school or grad school? I’d like to but I can’t necessarily afford it. Then considering how many times I’ve missed class in the past week and all the hours of studying I skipped out on I probably won’t make it in. 

Riki questioned why a physics major. 

“I could do research with it I suppose, I just always found the subject interesting.” 

It was the fundamentals that pulled me in. The state of entropy of the entire universe will always increase over time. If you ignore that it’s about energy, It's fascinating on its own.  

I say I’m fine just living a simple life if it means I’m stable, a nice apartment  with a good view, pocket money, and a 401K. I'm not worried about a specific career.

“What happened to your dreams?”

His question caught me off guard for a second.

“I don’t think I really had any.”

“That's just not possible”, he pushed.

“If I could be at peace that's all I could dream for.”

“When you’re this young, even if it may never come true, you should still dream.”

“You’re a really hopeful person.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I have hope. It might be ridiculous, but it gets me through, because there has to be a limit to everything, and there must be some good that comes with every bad thing. But really, I don't know anything, and that's why its hope.”

His stare shifted into something new, an expression he hadn’t shown yet, one of intrigue.

“Sit with me on the beach.”

I followed Riki’s words that ignored my previous ones.

Down the incline of the hill our shoes pressed into dry sand and we sat.

The waves pulled by the moon crashed fervently, alive and wild.

By my side Riki leaned over, his chin on my shoulder and he said so softly “Don’t beautiful things make you want to dream.”

I faced him, only centimeters separating us, “You want me to dream?”

“Just think of something, something you really want.”

I put my finger to my chin and dramaticized my thinking. Riki bumped by shoulder with his own.

“Be serious.”

“Maybe, go to Bonachita?”

“Why Bonachita?”

“I just wanna go.”

Riki laid back fully in the sand, granules the color of his roots blending in. 

“Bonachita, maybe when you're in your sixties.”

“Howcome?”

“It’s a good place to retire, super suburban, lots of old people. A nice place to die.”

“Well that's morbid.”

“Dream another dream.”

I laid down, imitating Riki.

“Then I dream of dying there.”

I had come down for a while now, exhaustion laid heavy on my eyes and I wanted to be lulled to sleep here, never going home. 

I nudged myself over until my head rested on top of Riki’s shoulder and chest. 

His familiar hand brushed through my hair and I fell asleep. 

[09MPH]

By dawn we were a tangle of sleepy limbs and sand. It seemed Riki fell asleep too. I rolled over onto my stomach and watched Riki whistle through his nose asleep while I lit a cigarette. The click of my lighter rose wake to his eyes and groggily he stared back at me. The sharp smokey smell wafted around us and the smoke I exhaled danced in the air like a luring hypnosis that Riki couldn’t take his eyes away from. After taking some drags from my cigarette Riki reached for it and took it away from me.

“Do you smoke?” I asked 

Riki sat himself up on one arm and shook his head ‘no’ while bringing the cigarette to his mouth. His lips wrapped prettily around it, tight in a closed-lip drag, still puffy from sleep. A deep inhale led to an immediate exhale—and a sudden coughing fit. I found his inexperience cute,  but his eyes wet from the pressure of choking on the smoke and sleep swollen lips made my thoughts run lewd. 

I took the cigarette from his hand giggling and ran my thumb across his bottom lip to his cheek, wiping off stray specks of sand. 

“Someone like you shouldn’t smoke.”

Riki took the cigarette right back and threw it into the sand.

“Neither should you.”

I kept on laughing and fell backwards onto my elbows.

“Too bad I already do then.”

He rolled his eyes at me and got up, dusting himself off. I did the same as him, quick to nag in my elated mood.

“Riki I’m hungry.”

“Are we on a bender? When am I gonna go to class?”

“I didn’t even eat yesterday.”

His eyes easily showed defeat.

Riki slung his arm around my shoulder and walked me forward to his car.

“Ok ok, just stop whining.”

I leaned into his hold and asked to eat back at his place. 

[10MPH]

After Riki took us back to his apartment for breakfast he went to class and I stayed back at his place. 

I had no classes on Tuesdays and so I rolled around mindlessly on his bed with nothing to do except study for midterms, which wasn’t going to happen. Laying on my stomach I reached down for my bag and rummaged through it. In the corner was a pill bottle, five tablets of ten milligrams of valium. I swallowed one dry, scratching my throat as it slid down. After fifteen minutes of feeling nothing I took two more, and then another. In the end I was face to face with one pill. She looked so lonely. Back in her bottle she went and I stared at the ceiling, starting to feel heavy. Swallowing the tablets like that left a knot in my throat, uncomfortable and irritating. The sun as well was pouring in from the window and shining with an intensity that made me feel as though I’d dissolve in its light. It was a sign of Spring but I wanted to hide from the sun. So I turned and hid my face in the sheets of Riki’s bed, reminiscent of the last time I was at his place, my first time at his apartment. The musk of cologne and his scent suffocated my nose but it was better than the sun. Addicting in comparison to the sun. Riki was like my valium, every semblance of his presence soothed me, I was hooked, and maybe it wasn’t a healthy attachment but I didn’t want to be without it. Just a short time of knowing one another and I felt so attracted to him like an elementary crush, but it was different. I sought out the feeling of reliability he provided for me. A fictitious sense of guidance, even though we were in the same place in life, equally confused, at the same starting line, but he seemed to run faster and I was out of breath.

I wanted to catch up.

I aimed to dissolve entirely in the sunlight if it was his.

I’d hold on to any good thing.

I’m a thankful person, and simultaneously selfish.

The forty milligrams I took laid a sheet of drowsiness over me and in a disoriented state I mulled over thoughts of Riki until unconscious. 

It seems it became a habit to wake up to him. I opened my eyes to Riki sitting on the floor by the head of the bed, textbook open and scribbling down the solutions to whatever problems he was solving. 

Watching him every breath felt too light, like my lungs weren't working properly. There was a strange pressure in my chest- not a pain, just a heaviness. I was breathing out too slowly, but I couldn't breathe any faster. I reached out to him, causing a shift in attention

Riki held my hand in return but I only knew from the sight. My hands were numb. Tingling like radio static ran up my limbs

I heard him ask why I was shaking but I didn’t even know I was shaking. I watched my hand tighten around his as I made a conscious effort to. 

I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep so he wouldn’t know that my body was falling out of tune, but I was still trembling. It was pointless.

A shadow rested over my dark sight, and when I opened my eyes I saw Riki’s jacket covering me. 

I was lifted up into his arms where he held me like a child.  

Riki’s voice came out broken, as if he was holding back his worry to try and seem calm.

“What did you do?”

I could only press my head against his chest, hoping to gain some kind of sensation. 

Riki's arms wrapped around me. They were firm, but with the gentleness of someone handling something fragile. I knew he was holding me, but I couldn't really feel it. All I felt was a faint pressure on my skin. I wasn't sure if it was really warmth. My body was too heavy to move, yet too light to feel real. I wanted to get closer, I wanted to feel him. Even his voice whispering in my ear sounded far away, like it was through another room. He was holding me. but it felt like I was a ghost. It scared me. 

His hands around my shoulders gripped tighter, the tips of his fingers now in my field of vision as he spoke softly against my ear.

“You were like this last time and I thought it was because of you falling into the pool but that's not it. Just tell me what this is.”

This whole time he had no idea?

I don’t wanna tell him.

I fought against my jaw to get the words out,“It’s ok, I’m ok”. 

My cadence was sluggish and only proved to counter my point.

Riki’s voice was barely audible, “No it's not.”

We sat like that for so long I couldn’t count the time, somewhere in those hours I didn’t even notice when I began to cry. I was consoled by his mere presence, soothed by his words, and nurtured by his relentless compassion. 

My senses didn’t come back for an entire day after. I never called my mom, I never went to class, Riki stayed by my side cradling my body, and never taking me to the hospital due to my pleas. The fatigue lingered and my muscles would twitch but at some point I could feel the heat of his skin flush against mine again.

“Riki,” I whispered.

He responded with a hum. 

“Why are you so good to me?”

His fingertips ran through my hair and brushed against my shoulder.

“Because I care about you.”

I sat up to look him in the eye. I didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense.

“But we’ve only known each other for a week?

His eyes held no trace of disillusionment. He was eagerly willing to attach to someone, just like me. He had an open and forgiving heart. One day it’d be the death of him. I could tell.

His lips parted hesitantly, before succumbing to his truth.

“Still I know you, so I care about you, and you’re not okay.”

My head fell against his chest in defeat. He was only saying everything I wanted to hear but I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I began to laugh. I began to lose myself. He was blind, I was even worse. What didn’t he get? The reality of me was pathetic.

“Yeah I’m not ok. I pop pills, I don’t care for my mom, I don’t go to my classes even though whining about getting an education, I’m stuck in this bum fuck town, hell I even snorted a fucking line of cocaine, I’m a mess I can barely keep my shit together, I don’t, I cling onto you, you shouldn’t give a shit about me. Why care about someone like me, Riki?”

I don’t know why I was getting aggressive with him for caring about me. I guess if it would end later once he realizes how pathetic I am it’d be better to wake him up now. 

Riki’s hands played with my hair as my head remained against his chest, his words patient,

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

Oh. 

I looked up at him, the tears in my eyes raw, coming down without restrain. His solemn gaze bore back into me. 

What did I do any of it for?

I knew why I started but how I got here I don’t know.

“I don’t know.”

“Underneath your brain fog, you do.”

His hands lifted from my hair and back to cradle my face.

“Call your mom, tell her you’re ok, shower, eat, and explain all this to me.”

I nodded pushing myself up from his lap. On my way to the door I turned back around to Riki who was still on the bed.

“Riki, I don't wanna go home.”

He simply nodded at me and I accepted it.

[11MPH]

I’m alone in the kitchen, the phone rings for what feels like years  before being picked up.

“Mama.”

I’m choked by the hand that isn’t there.

“Mama?”

She picked up but there's no words said, just shallow breaths on the other side of the line.

“Mama, I’m ok. I’m sorry mama.”

I know she doesn’t believe in “sorry.” Faith never told her to.

Perhaps it did. I didn’t read well. Instead let's accuse her heart, and ignore my obvious faults. 

“I swear to God, if you ever come to my door it’ll be locked for you. I swear.”

“Mama, mama, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry means nothing, you wanna act like an adult? Go be one.”

“Mama.”

Her voice was rigid, cutting through my pleas sharp enough to pull blood through the phone.

“I have no daughter, no family, nothing.”

“But mama.”

The line buzzed. She had hung up. Hung up like I wasn’t gone for three days without a word now.

Are mothers usually forgiving? Is a mother the one you run to when you’re not okay? Did she even care? 

Is the love for a child conditional? 

I wanna know. 

Truth is I already know. I know I’m an outlier. I know I mean less than nothing to my blood. And so my blood runs easily with no importance. If I was a better daughter would she hold onto me more - the same way I hold onto her? 

How disgusting am I in her eyes?

Mama, why do you make me hold onto the care of strangers? Why can’t I have you like all the other kids?

If I died that night and Riki never nursed me back to health, would you even feel a thing?

My mind clung to desperation, I was driven to prayer from the emptiness my mother rooted in my heart, born from indifference, disappointment, and impatience. There has to be a saving grace. There has to be a hope. There has to be a dream like Riki says, and one that comes true.  

I put my knees to the floor, hands to my chest, praying to God let these floorboards be my witness, the ceiling fan attest to the sight. Have the angels on my shoulders testify. Know that God sees all and God knows well, I’d be in a different place if every moment in life depended solely on my intentions. Let God know I fear him just as well as I know he is merciful. My soul is separate from my body and still both belong to God solely. Forgive me for my final sins. Forgive me God, for who I am, who I will be, and who I was. Help me God, to be forgiven by you, and see my sincerity that I know you see just as you do my weak mind. 

I kneeled, forehead to the ground, until no pleas went without repetition, and no prayer went unsaid. Riki never walked in. Clinging to my skin to ground myself I realized there was no place for me to go and so I’d go to nowhere. 

How many hours is Bonachita from Florida?

[12MPH]

Riki is an enigma. To every side of him you know there's one you don’t. The reason he's that way is hard to pinpoint. He never talked about himself much. He has money, drives an eccentric car, came from the West Coast, has dreams, but none of these explain his weak heart. 

Fact is, no one clings quick like Riki does, it's just not normal. His family? I know he’s from Japan originally, but do you always have to blame family for the deficits in your character?

Riki isn’t normal but I understand him. He chases the fulfillment he never got a taste of. If he works hard he thinks something has to come from it, if he holds onto someone something has to come from it. 

Riki, your problems are simple on the surface yet they strike a cord in you so complex you never quite understood how to sort through the feeling. As straightforward as a situation may be, what is within our minds never is. You’re not a book though, I can’t read inbetween the lines. I can’t fill in the gaps for unanswered questions. 

Riki never had much to say about my mother’s fits, he never told me to confront if I had an addiction, he didn’t say the things you usually expect from someone.

Riki isn’t from the West Coast.

Riki cares but he isn’t honest.

Riki is lonely, because Riki doesn’t interact with people as expected.

Riki isn’t from Bonachita.

Riki lies to himself more than he’d ever lie to anyone else.

There's a blockage in his mind. There's a time in his life he can’t remember. There's things his brain can’t process. 

That's why he responds with silence.

Or he just makes something up to have something to say..

Riki has a sweet soul. He’s just a little unstable. 

But he holds it together really well, you wouldn’t even be able to tell. He doesn’t need to break down to show he’s reaching his limits. They’ve been passed but somehow his back is straight. He runs the race on unsteady feet. Still he's ahead of the rest. 

Riki.

Riki, you lied.

Bonachita never existed.

[13MPH]

I had nothing to pack that day other than the schoolbag I carried around. I couldn’t go home to get any of my things and so I made due with what I had.

I decided I would just go. Even if I stuck around it wouldn’t make sense to burden Riki with my situation, even if he said he cared, he had no clue I got essentially disowned. 

We never even actually talked about what he wanted to. I just took my things and left without a word, without him knowing. 

It wasn’t rational, Riki was there with me through it all but in my clouded mind it was the only step I knew to take. 

I decided I was going to visit Bonachita.

If I have money for valium I have money for a train ticket. 

At the station I asked for a ticket to the closest city around Bonachita. 

The man looked at me crazy so I thought maybe Bonachita wasn’t a known place but some kind of niche town. 

It was my first time looking it up but nothing came up. Just links to ancestry.com and randoms with the very rare last name. No, directions, no map, no chance of misspelling, it simply didn’t exist. Bonachita wasn’t a city, a town, village, nothing. 

But that would mean Riki lied?

I sat down on the station bench, holding onto cold cash.

Riki who seemed to be so upstanding, so stable, lied about where he came from?

What else did he lie about? Why even lie about something like that?

I stared off at the stone floors with endless questions running through my mind. It seemed so fast everything could just crumble. Even the things I held on to with a firm grip. 

With my last pill of valium, random notebooks, a hairbrush, deodorant, only the clothes I had on, and loose bills in my hand, I booked a night at the nearby motel. 

In the rough motel blankets there's no comfort, only the chilling cold that rises goosebumps to my skin from the blasting air conditioner. I closed my eyes and imagined the cold to be the sensation of Riki’s hands around me the day I was pulled out of the pool by him while flipping my pill bottle in my hands, the one lone pill making a dull sound as it rolled around. His memory was fond to me, I didn’t harbor any negative feelings towards him even when I found out he lied. It was almost comforting to know I wasn’t the only one losing it. Still the feeling of overwhelming isolation overtook any solace I could find. My tears that used to run easily were stifled, burning me from inside. 

The weirdest thing of all.

I missed my mom.

When I was a kid, she’d put dove chocolates at the bottom of my cereal bowls. Whenever I’d unwrap them they’d have some message on the inside and then I’d pour the milk over and have breakfast. On Valentine's day she’d get me a gift. We used to go on walks around the middle school track on weekends and then get ice cream. I played the flute, and she’d come to concerts in elementary, even middle school. I miss that mom.

Towards the end of middle school her and my father fought over money a lot. The house would be tense for days when they wouldn’t talk or even be in the same room as one another. I found out my dad had a woman in North Carolina he took care of and took out large sums of money for. He was slowly planning to leave and never told my mom. My mom didn’t have anything except my dad. And me. She sacrificed a lot to start a family with him, thought there’d be an award for settling down along the line. Her own childhood was pretty bad, she brought a lot of her insecurities into her marriage. She didn’t know security. After dad left the fits she had toward him turned to me. It seemed all the leftover anger she had could only be let out at his daughter. The waste of flesh and blood that reflected no love. I was only a symbol of the tarnished sanctity of marriage. All the promises that went down the drain.

Initially her fits were small but they got worse over time. Verbal turned into physical. I don't know what I could've done but I always felt I should’ve done something.

She never realized I lost something too the day dad left. 

I wonder what Riki lost to act how he does. 

Does he think holding tight onto something means you won’t lose it? 

Look at us, we're both foolish. Making me dream about the things I’ll never have, because he made it look so fulfilling, because he seemed so full of life.  

I never felt as alive as I did when beside him. The speed of his car, the fragility of me fading away in his arms, his patience, his hope, his company, his touch. 

Opening my eyes, I pressed open the bottle lid and swallowed the last valium pill. 

It was too little dosage to do anything for me. 

Now it was all over. 

In the uncomfortable sheets I fell into a heavy sleep while running my hands down my arms in an attempt to mimic the way Riki once held me before.

That night I dreamt I got everything I wanted.

[14MPH]

The view from the motel window is desolate, roads and yellow grass. Only when I crack it open does the blur from the old window pane show the true colors. Every couple minutes cars drive up and down the street showing signs of life. My fingertip traced the thin film of dust on the edge of the windowsill, blowing it forward. I didn’t even know how many days of class I had missed at this point. I didn’t have the energy for school regardless. I settled into the motel as days passed and my money slowly ran low. I bought a new shirt and denim shorts. It was a white fitted tee, fresh in appearance compared to the room. I had thirty dollars left. It wasn’t enough for another night, not after the five I already spent. It’s weird I don’t have Riki’s phone number. Would I call him? Would he be in class right now? But it’d be weird to come to him just because I ran out of money. 

He never judged me and when he found out my truth he stayed firm by my side. So I feel indebted to be there by him. It’s also that I never stopped wanting to be. 

Is this an opportunity or an excuse?

Is his door open for me?

I can’t go back for the reason I left. 

But I want to see him. 

I lit a new cigarette and leaned my bare thighs against the wall. My head rested on the window and each drag was like a petting comfort to my lungs despite the reality. I recalled the beach, and how Riki’s lips wrapped around my cigarette once. I wondered how his lips would feel against me. Would it feel as good as his touch? 

His sleepy lashes, rasped voice, wandering fingers, his cologne. I leaned deeper against the wall, sucking in deeply and hollowing my chest as if the cigarette was me inhaling him. 

I have thirty dollars and a burning heat. 

[15MPH]

On my sixth night I was back in the nearby train station, awake all night and confined to a bench. At one in the morning the station closed and I was left out to wander the sidewalks. Spring winds pushed me along and the cicadas chirped, filling the silence.  It was scary to be out so late alone. I started thinking I could go to campus and spend the night pretending to study in the twenty-four hour section of the library and so I ordered a ride with half of the thirty dollars I had. 

Street lights turned into blurs as the car sped up after I got in. The palm trees swayed, people walked in and out of diners or convenience stores, groups of teenagers walked the streets pushing along bicycles, neon open signs, everything was alive around me. 

It was beautiful, this Florida Spring night.

So beautiful it seemed my feet walked me away from the library. I circled the lab building and went through the parking lots. In hills of grass I passed Old Main and ended up at the campus apartment complexes. 

It was a garden style complex with exterior entrances. I could walk straight up to his door. I was at his door, with a hesitant hand and a pounding heart. It was two in the morning at this point. With a spur of impulsivity I knocked, twice. 

[16MPH]

Truly, before now I never acknowledged how much taller Riki was. His pale face looked down at me, taut and hiding all expression once opening the door. 

No words were exchanged between us.

His arms wrapped around me in a tight hug like it was the position we had always belonged in. I held onto him, his stature enveloping me entirely in the embrace. The faint sounds of his breath tickled my ear, all my senses opened up to him. We stumbled backwards into his apartment, my mind only able to perceive him. I didn’t even realize when he closed the door where we fell to the floor while his hand cradled the back of my head. Pulling back to look at one another I felt the need to consume him entirely. There was no chance I’d separate myself from my greatest desire in this moment where I held him so close. I’m under his trance.

I lifted my lips to his, causing warmth to shoot through my body. Riki kissed me back, only pulling me closer with desperation. His hands were a mess in my hair while my own gripped at his shirt and skin.I was surprised he kissed me back. We were never shy to touch one another but it was a line we didn’t cross until now. I pulled away to admire him in the thick silence only broken by our shallow breaths. His gaze on me was as if I was the most beautifully fragile thing he ever held. Riki softly brought his kiss back to my lips. We remained there on the floor for a moment, as if, in his mind, I would slip through his fingers and disappear into nothingness. Once I tugged on the waistband of his pants he lifted me up and, without ever parting his lips from mine for more than a second, pushed me towards the bedroom.

We fell backwards onto the bed, sheets strewn, his puffy, andalusite eyes meeting mine and reading through me. They were beautiful, like gems reflecting their own light onto me in the darkness of the night.  

Riki’s hands brushed under the hem of my shirt, taking it off and letting it lay on the pillow above my head before kissing down my collarbone while unbuttoning my shorts to pull down the zipper. My own eager hands fumbled to remove his clothes, leaving only undergarments and skin against skin in an intoxicating heat. It was all in an overwhelming need we both felt to be closer.

He really looked like a man, the veins showing in his neck and arms, the hollow definition of his abs. I trailed my fingers up his abdomen until my hand fell flat under the pressure of his body coming down against mine, his nose nuzzled in my neck where he spoke the first words of the night.

“Why’d you leave?”

I pulled his face back by his hair that was now dyed back to a natural shade of black, something he must’ve done in the days I was gone. He was stubborn but eventually he faced me again.

I could only murmur apologies, no reasons.

His tears fell onto my own cheeks. The shimmer of his somber eyes laid soft kisses on my soul, my body nurtured by his touch. Every part of me was filled with the intense pleasure of being reunited. The feeling sent shivers down my spine despite the overwhelming heat within and burning through my skin. 

The soft whine from his throat led me to cling tighter to his skin. 

He bit mine, kissed and bit, nibbled and sucked. I was raw and numb with bliss. 

His hand ran down my throat, past my sensitive chest, and to the bottom of my stomach where his fingertips toyed with the line of my underwear, dipping into the slick. 

Working me up before going down on me, he placed his lips around my swollen clit and let out a deep moan. I was breathless at the new sensation.

He explored my body with a gentleness, oscillating between devotion and need that drove me to the edge. For a time my body lay there experiencing all the possibilities of his hands, lips, and tongue. There seemed to be not a single corner of my skin missed by the fervent affection.

I tugged on his hair until I called out his name and he dragged his body up, his arousal bumping against me.

My meek voice, torn with desire, begged for him.

I belong here in his arms 

I exist between his legs

My heartbeat is fast but my mind is calm. Give me the sweet release.

I spread my arms open to completely be consumed by him inside me.

Adore me.

Cherish me.

Fill me.

In the late morning we woke up, his sleepy head resting on my chest. The sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtain and highlighted the moles under his eyes to the one on his chin. I shook him awake and asked if he had class. He groggily responded no, but I knew he did. Shoving him to wake Riki finally got up and pulled on a random pair of pants to email his professors. I was still naked and pulled the covers over me, watching as he moved around the room. He threw a towel at me and told me to take a shower. 

After we both had showered, Riki made a simple breakfast of fried eggs and toast. At the table I sat with my knees up against my chest, clad in only a borrowed oversized tee and shorts. I nibbled at the toast while Riki stood behind me and combed through my damp hair. Bending my neck back I interrupted his movements and looked up at him.

“You know why I left.”

He only moved his eyebrows to answer. Incapable of finishing my sentence while maintaining eye contact I looked down at the runny yolk of my egg.

“I was gonna go to Bonachita.”

Riki stopped brushing my hair.

“And”, he questioned.

“It doesn’t exist.”

He didn’t move an inch.

“Why’d you lie?”

“To give you an answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“There's some things, some months, that when I think back to, there's a blockage in my mind.”

His voice fell silent before he went back to combing through my hair and spoke up again.

“When I think about life before college my memories lead nowhere. I remember some of my childhood in Japan, I remember moving around alot after. I don’t remember any city. When I think about it a little too long I get uneasy, my head hurts, and I just don’t visit the memories again. 

I couldn’t just say all that back then.”

I hummed to myself before answering.

“So you don’t even remember a thing.”

“Barely.”

“Have you ever gone to a doctor?” 

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled. 

I didn’t push him any farther with questions and asked him to eat with me. Riki obliged and broke into the yolk of his own egg with the no longer warm slice of toast. 

“Do you still take pills?” 

Shocked at the sudden questions, my eyes widened.

Coughing slightly I spoke,

“Not really, I ran out.” 

Riki’s jaw flexed.

“You wouldn’t take them again though, right?”

I clicked my tongue in thought. There wasn’t a time since I started where I was sober for long. I had no idea what the withdrawal would be like, it’d be unwise to go cold turkey just as it’d be to continue. 

I sat up on my knees and leaned in.

“I can’t go cold turkey, I’m gonna start getting withdrawal symptoms soon.”

Riki sighed deeply, “Why’d you ever start.”

“It doesn’t matter, I'll just wean off.”

“Ok ok, have you been home?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, it wasn’t that I found the question funny but I found the reality to come out like a sick joke.

“I got kicked out.”

“Last night?”

“No, like basically a week ago now.”

He ran his hands over his face, the truth of everything at once must’ve been too much to come up with a proper response. 

He picked up the plates of our breakfast and took them to the kitchen sink, silently washing the dishes. I pushed my chair in to come up behind him and leaned my head on his shoulder. 

“You know-” 

Riki’s voice came out faint.

“You said you dreamt of dying in Bonachita.” The sponge made slow circles over the pan. I watched the water spiral down the drain.

“Mhm.”

“Did you want to die?”

I hate these kinds of questions.

“I wasn't thinking about death, I just had nowhere to go.”

“I was here.”

I kept my mouth shut.

Riki turned to face me, a slight aching in his eye.

“You’ll stay here for now with me though right?”

I kissed the tip of his nose and the mole on his chin lightly, promising that I’d stay, and not because I had nowhere else to go, but because this is where I longed to be. It would only be as long as he was here. 

[17MPH]

May is approaching, the days only get hotter, longer, and in two weeks it’ll be time for finals. Kids whine and fuss in the halls of the science and technology building about their professors, the increasingly hard exams, or lack of sleep they’ve gotten. I spend weekends turning in coursework I already know won’t save me. I’ve long since let this semester go. Riki doesn’t like me going to parties, so I can’t get valium that way. I never cared for them much anyway. More time to study.. Instead I take smaller doses of valium each week that I buy off my friend. What I still do is smoke, but I do it outside the apartment. 

One night, I came back into the apartment after a smoke. Riki crawled onto the bed and asked if on the first day of summer we could go to the beach. 

I told him we can go wherever he’d like, but what made him want to go?

He claimed to have always liked the beach, he’s never been without it for long.

After two weeks I sat down for my matrices and modern physics exams, packed a bag, and drove up to Canaveral National Seashore about an hour and a half away with Riki. It's a beach with miles of untouched coastline, just white sands and barely a soul. 

Our shoes left imprints on the long walk before Riki decided to stop by the shore. I held my sandals in my hands and let the water bump against my bare ankles. Riki stood rather than sitting. Looking at the expanse of water it seemed endless. If you get a boat and keep going eastward in the direction the ocean takes you, you’ll cross the Atlantic and possibly end up in the Moroccan Sahara. A stark contrast from where we sit now. The world is so pretty when you leave the confines of a town. 

I looked up at Riki above me, but the sun shone down so hard his face became a blur of striking white. 

I asked him to get in the water with me.

Both of us weren’t wearing appropriate clothes, still I ran into the water without waiting for his response, splashing around like a child and soaking the fabric of my short dress. It now stuck to me like a glove and revealed the outline of everything beneath. Riki laughed at me until I pulled him in. His own denim jeans, too hot for a summer like this, and cotton tee became heavy with saltwater. 

We played in water for hours, jumping waves and pushing one another down. Only when the sun began to set did we swim back towards the shore. 

With wet hair, drenched clothing, and arms intertwined we walked back to his car. 

Our room was small—four walls, a bed, a closet, bathroom and a microwave. It was the best we could find at the last minute while being a close enough drive to the beach. That night on our way back I told Riki I wanted to get drunk, I’d never had alcohol before. I still had the fake ID from when I’d party with my campus friends. We’d go to Wawa before heading back to one of their dorms, but I never drank it. It was off putting since the bottles my mother would throw were often the beer she drank. 

Tonight I’d pretend it never was.

We poured shots of liquor for one another throughout the night in dixie cups. At first a slight anxiety gnawed at me as I took sips. It felt like a rebellion against the firm boundary I had once set. If I wanted to live without carrying the baggage of all that had happened perhaps this was a step I could take. Each shot diluted my unease into a weightless glee. Every touch felt heightened, like a delirium of mind and body. I’m the only one new to this but Riki is just as gone leaving no space to be awkward. Laughing about nothing I straddled Riki on top of the bed, the cheap frame creaking with each movement. Still in our beach clothes, damp like our skin and hair, I lit a cigarette, the flame illuminating the dimness for the briefest second. Beneath me, Riki hooked his fingers under the straps of my dress, tugging them down with slow, deliberate movement. I leaned down, resting my chest on his collarbones, to pour the full cup in my right hand into his open mouth, while taking a drag of my cigarette with my left. His throat moved with each weak attempt to swallow. Most of the liquor dribbled down his chin and neck like a honeyed waterfall. I licked the stickiness from the contour of his adams apple to his full lips. 

He kissed forward, the sweetly intoxicating flavor of him blending onto my tongue. 

Throughout the night my phone rang, yet the sound became white noise while we continued drinking and kissing.

I feel the truth of my youth in his arms. If only my eyes could capture this moment in a polaroid and frame it as the scene that defines my young adult years and ignore everything else. All my poor decisions pour into one mass of pleasure and pain. The pleasure found in Riki can tune everything else out. I like the pink blush of his drunken cheeks. I like the way he traces my skin. Killing me with beauty, slowly, softly, sweetly. God, he is beautiful, sharp and angelic all at once. He slurs his words, saying I look pretty from this view. So I put a show on of slipping my underwear down my thighs before sitting back down onto the cold metal of his belt. Each divot in the detailing rubbed against my bottom uncomfortably. At my slight noise from pain Riki slid his hands beneath me to unbuckle his belt. The swift sounds of unclasping metal and falling leather echoed crisply. I tugged at the waistband of his heavy denim jeans, asking him if he felt hot. His hips lifted beneath me slightly, rubbing against my bare skin. 

“Won’t you take it off for me?” His tone was boyish and seductive at once. 

I obliged, pulling the zipper, making Riki smile devilishly, the messy bangs on his forehead shadowing his blackened eyes. His bulge was prominent against the seams of his boxers. The cigarette I held between my teeth had to be placed elsewhere so I flipped it around to fit lazily between Riki’s plush lips, the perfect adornment. I could only smile at the sight of him a mess beneath me before pulling down his boxers to reveal the reddened tip of his frustrated cock. Holding the base in my hand I licked a stripe upwards with a lack of experience nor the coordination I’d have sober. The taste was unfamiliar, almost nothing, but slightly salty. Once I took him in it was suffocating. Breathing through my nose, the deeper he hit my throat the more difficult it became. The smell of my own saliva mixed with the musk. I began to gag but Riki only pushed my head down further as he moaned mellifluously. The sound itself left an ache in my core, I couldn’t help but be turned on further. When his breaths stuttered I pulled off, leaving him leaking and close to coming. His whines filled my ears like music. Taking the cigarette back from him, almost at its end I inhaled and positioned myself to sit back on him, flush against the heat of his groin slick with my saliva and his own precum. I could only tease him a moment longer before my own patience ran thin.

With everything off but my dress, I lifted to let him in. Once Riki bottomed out, pleasure shot through me like waves in the drunk haze. I shoved his shirt as high as possible to flick the ash of my dwindling cigarette onto his nipples, causing him to let out his own moans louder than before, mixing with mine. 

The smell of sex filled the air of the tiny space, Riki’s eyes rolled back as he climaxed. Pulling out after coming down his slender fingers rubbed against my entrance before slipping in and working in and out against my inner walls, repeatedly hitting the most pleasurable spot as he easily became accustomed to my body. His movements became messier as he ran out of energy, yet I found myself chasing his fingers. I started to feel sick with desire. I was left panting, the pathetic butt of the cigarette extinguishing on Riki’s skin as I fell over onto him. In that same position I fell asleep, cushioned by his firm body. While my mind faded into slumber I could vaguely make out Riki’s mumbling. 

“Is this enough for you to stay?”

Little does he know we’re bound by an unbreakable string of fate.

[18MPH]

The hangover is like a freight train running back and forth on tracks made of my neurons. God, it hurts. With an aching body I reached over to the floor to pick up my phone. I had ten missed calls, two messages, all from my dad. Immediately my heart sank, I hadn't talked to my dad in over two months. He says hi, I say hello, he makes me say hi to his wife, he hangs up, I cry. That's how it usually goes. 

His first message was “Why don’t you pick up?”

the second read, “Your mom texted me.”

I knew he was going to say something I didn’t want to hear. 

Right when I was going to turn off my phone the screen lit up with a call from him.

I stared at the vibrating screen causing Riki to turn in his sleep and stare at me quietly with an expression devoid of readable emotion.

My head throbbed, I just wanted to curl up in my sheets and ignore everything. Still, I accepted the call to be greeted by a familiarly distant voice.

“Why didn’t you pick up before?”

What excuse would ever satisfy a man like this.

“I was asleep, it’s summer break.”

“Well, your mom talked to me, she said you haven’t come home.”

“Well she kicked me out.”

“She told me about how you’ve been acting out, but just because she says things when she's angry doesn’t mean its true.”

“....” “She wants you to come live with me.”

“In Carolina?”

“Where have you been staying anyway?”

I lied straight through my teeth.

“Hotels, motels.”

“With what money?”

“I worked in the summers, you know?”

“Whatever, I’m busy so I’ll pick you up next week.”

He hung up like that, not asking me any more questions. Whether I was ok didn’t seem to matter, the nuisance just needed to be handled.

I fell back onto the bed, the call only worsening my headache. 

“You’re gonna leave?” Riki murmured.

I could only shrug. If my dads wife didn’t want me at the house, no way in hell he’d take me in. I was an adult he wasn’t obliged to. But I guess a daughter on the streets looks bad.

It wasn’t like I could live with Riki forever anyway. Everything comes to an end eventually.

“Let's stay another night.” His eyes held an emotion I hadn’t yet seen him express before.

I felt his fingers snake around my wrist in a firm embrace.

“Let’s stay another night.”

Who am I to say no to a face like that, especially when I never wanted to leave in the first place.

Riki started to shake my wrist back and forth like a child, his voice bordering whiny.

“I’ll take you for a drive again, I promise.”

Does he not see he can pull the strings on my back as he likes. Isn’t that a pathetic reality. I don’t care. His will is mine.

“Ok, let's stay another night.”

His grip finally relaxed, his face still half pressed against the pillow. He was speaking with the mind of someone only halfway awake. Still as we sat there his eyes remained trained on me. 

“Riki, what are you thinking?”

“About what you’re thinking.”

Internally I sighed, 

“I think we should take a bath.”

In response Riki stood up and trudged to the bathroom, leaving the door open, letting me watch him fill the bathtub.

While the water loudly pattered against the enamel Riki lifted me up out of bed, letting the soiled dress fully slip down my body. 

The warmth even in the summer was soothing to my hungover body. I sat on my legs facing Riki who was still outside the tub, lathering shampoo between his hands to wash my hair with. The massage on my scalp worked away the tension slowly. Watching his focused expression I was even more at ease.

“Tell me something.”

His eyes shifted onto mine.

“Like what?”

“Everything I don’t know.”

“I got a new piercing.” I leaned in, bumping against the edge of the bath to look at his ears.

“Which? I can’t tell which is new.”

“I got a double helix, it used to only be one.”

He pushed his hair back with the knuckles of his hand to show the reddened cartilage of his right ear. 

“When’d you get it, it must be a pain to heal”

“About like three to four weeks ago.”

That was when I was at the motel.

“You changed a lot in a short time.”

Riki tilted his chin up, shaking the suds in my hair

“What do you mean?”

“Well you used to be blond.”

“Did you like the blond?”

“I liked it all. But why’d you go back to black?”

“I wanted to do something to my appearance.”

I faintly touched the stray strands of his hair with my wet hands.

“In a month you’ll be a whole nother person.”

Riki let out a childish laugh, his genuine smile breaking through. Yet a part of me wasn’t joking.

“What if I can’t recognize you/”

“I’ll always be the same though.”

I looked down at the curve of his shoulders while he spoke.

“I’ll walk the same, speak the same, fidget the same, at the core all the same.”

His hands left my scalp and ran over the scar tissue of the old cut I got on my collarbone so long ago. 

I fell against his shoulder, damping him with shampoo and water.

My blond angel is a black haired boy.

[19MPH]

The sun is strong in the evening but rain is forecasted. 

In the daytime there are more people coming to the beach than in the past day. A lot of fishers, a good amount of families. The heat in the sand burns the soles of my feet without shoes, so Riki offers to take a drive instead. The loud and familiar engine of Riki’s mustang was like a healing purr as it came to life. As we coast through the first few streets, marshes blur into sleepy houses, and eventually, we’re on real roads. I ask Riki how fast his car can go. He says 157 miles per hour. I ask him where he can go at that speed.

“Basically nowhere.”

When we end up on a rural road I ask him to try it, go a little faster.

As soon as he presses his foot on the accelerator the car jumps from forty to eighty. I feel the speed push me against the car seat, and he only goes faster, shifting gears and teetering around 100 to 120. The exhaust begins to get louder, wind thrashes making my vision turn into a blur of melting landscapes and stray hair. 

Riki’s hands stay firm on the wheel. My instinct is to scream, not from fear — from joy. It’s like a roller coaster with no track. At 140, we’re flirting with death.

I found myself thinking this would be a beautiful way to die. 

Every twitch of the wheel is a whisper between life and disaster. Down the slightest hills, the car surges faster. But Riki holds it steady. When he finally brakes, it’s smooth — a gradual pull, a careful downshift.. By the time we stop, my heart could fly straight out of my chest. The adrenaline is unbearable, delicious,  and then it all spills over. All the adrenaline went to my head and laughter burst through both our lungs at the crudely selfish stunt we pulled. 

Riki circles back to the seashore and we walk down onto the coastline, clouded by the soon coming rains. 

Times like this we don’t exchange many words. We simply bathe in the moment. Soft winds, grey skies, and ocean scape. His hair is much more tousled than any other day, I stare at it as I watch the back of his head with each step. 

Rain begins to slowly pour onto our shoulders, a pitter patter every other minute. At the same moment my phone buzzes from my pocket, the vibration distant. Riki looks back at me but I ignore whatever the call is and continue to look ahead at him. Soon he stops in his tracks and drops to sit on the sand. I look down at him in confusion. He tells me he has no pictures of me. I say I don’t like pictures. He says he wants something to remember me by. I say I’m right here. 

Looking like teenage dreams in the grains of white sand his eyes reflected all of my own fears. And all my compassion.

“Are you not leaving?”

Why doesn’t he look at me as if I’m disgusting? It'll make this easier.

I still stand looking down at him.

“So what if I go to Carolina?”

“You won’t go to college here anymore will you.”

“I was going to take a gap year regardless.”

“But when would I see you again?”

I remained quiet.

“So you don’t care if we don’t see eachother again?”

“Of course I do.” I was turning pathetic, my voice cracked.

Riki’s yearning eyes looked up at me, a million desires, a thousand questions, and not a single resolve given.

“You could just stay with me.”

“You know that's not possible.”

“Why not?”

I raked my hands through my hair in frustration.

“I can’t leech off of you like that.”

His own voice became strained,

“But you're not. I want you to stay with me. How is that leeching?”

A scoff came from his throat.

“What's the point of living with someone who doesn’t care about you when you could live with someone who does?”

“Why do you care about me anyway?”

Distress shot over his expression for a mere second. I continued to say all the wrong words.

“Because you didn’t need to know everything about me to understand me. Because I’m not all that I went through, I’m my character and you came back even after you found out the truth because of that. Didn’t you?”

I fell to my knees, only inches away from Riki and wrapped my arms tight around the broadness of his shoulders, my face directed towards all that was behind him.

“I’m gonna pack my bag, get in his car, go to North Carolina, and I’ll miss you.”

“No.” His voice was annealed glass. 

My teardrops watered the slope of his back, blending in with the light rainfall. 

His hands clung onto me as if he’d have no will to live otherwise. 

“Just tell me what you want, you can have it. If you want me you can have me. If you have a dream I’ll fulfill it. What do you really want?”His tone shifted between tenderness and possessiveness. 

I thought the wise thing to do was rely on a parent instead of someone my age, equally as unstable. I thought I’d go with my dad and live fine with the memories of him. What if he didn’t always want me next to him? Then where would I go if I had turned down my dad’s offer. How do I know his eyes will always look at me with such a devoted expression? How do I know he’s entirely mine?

“I want you to take me to Bonachita.”

[157MPH]

He watches me get ready in the mirror. 

My hair is neat, my dress is short, and my lashes curled. Even with less makeup than I used to wear, I feel pretty. 

Every curtain is open, all windows let in the cool morning breeze. Dew is clinging on to each blade of grass and slipping from low hanging leaves due to last night's rain. Everything catches light but there's a film of hazy fog. Nature is lush and alive.

When I get up, so does Riki. There's coffee on the table, this is his apartment. He lives here even in the summer because it doesn’t belong to the university. Yet these apartments are majority owned by students and only a couple minutes from campus so it feels like the semester never ended. We came back last night. On the drive back we could catch glimpses of the launchpads. On one side was the Atlantic and the other the Indian River. The salty smell of ocean water permeated through the air, a nostalgic scent. We went south down the A1A. Light filtered through the spanish mosses and oaks of Titusville, Melbourne, and Sebastian. Each town was distinct despite being so close. When we reached home we immediately fell asleep. 

Now I’m sipping on bitter coffee. I can’t tell if I like the taste or not but I continue to drink. Riki tells me to listen to the birds chirping outside. It’s the perfect song to play in the background of this morning. I say it reminds me of when I was kid, the last days of school having breakfast at the round wooden table in front of the window that let in the sounds of nature, open for the first time in months because of the incoming summer. He says when he was young he dreamt of being a race car driver. He watched Trans-Am, Formula 1, NASCAR, all of it. And he dreamt, that’s not a lie. 

I asked him if he ever tried. He said it takes a lot of training that he never got close to doing. So he took that dream and polished it into mechanical engineering. I admire him. I tell him so.

Riki’s not good at taking compliments, he smiles like a fool, like an angel. His boxy smile showing his teeth. 

In another life maybe he drives around a track, fast and fulfilled. If only he could have everything he wanted and I could be the one who gives it to him. I keep that to myself. Instead I attempt to light a cigarette but I can’t find my lighter. Riki gets one from the kitchen before standing in front of me, flicking the flame to life and setting both my lungs and heart afire. I’d rather kiss him than smoke. I wrap an arm around the nape of his neck and bring him down to me. My cigarette is looming over the floor in my other hand, accumulating ash. I kiss against his pouty lips into bliss. The taste of coffee lingers on both of our tongues. The bitterness imitates the sweet taste of love. I want to believe that this is a form of love crafted especially for people like us. Even if I can’t have something pure and sweet, I’m allowed at least the bitterness that faintly mimics its taste. I ask Riki what he wants most at this moment. He leaves the faintest kiss on my lips before saying 

“Nothing.”

I see all my suppressed dreams from the past years reflect in his eyes, and I let them pass on. 

The coffee pot half full remains and we get into his car, the leather of the seats is hot from drowning in sunlight. I feel it against my skin, cauterizing already healed wounds. The windows are down, we drive slowly throughout town as the wind cools us down. At one point we nearly pass my mom’s house but narrowly get on a different avenue. There's kids on the street playing ball, running around, and falling. There was a time when we were that age. Riki hums while taking a turn and for a second I wonder what he was like as a child. His smile must’ve been the same back then. There are some things that just don’t change even when everything else does. His eyes are on the road and my eyes are on his face. The streets are now lined with trees rather than houses. There’s a bridge arching above the road a couple miles away. It’s made of limestone,  the kind of bridge people cross over, but today its empty. 

Riki is no longer looking at the road, his gaze is solely on me. He asks if I still want to go to Bonachita. 

The fact is I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to go to my dad’s house. But I know I can’t keep running. In all honesty, I absolutely adore Riki. But things catch up. The feet are fast but reality is quicker. To never move forward is to die and to go on is to endure the greatest pain yet. I feel absolutely terrible. 

So I bundle all my joys and give it an address. 

Bonachita. 

Riki has glossy eyes at my nod of confirmation. I see in my peripheral his foot go against the accelerator harshly, and he shifts gears.

Forty, fifty, ninety, a hundred, 

one-fifty-seven. 

I can’t process a thing as the bridge becomes imminently closer. 

Yet I know, in a world that forsakes forgiveness, where the mistakes you make are the most defining moments, he cherished me as if I wasn’t made less than by all I’ve done. 

I really like to be human in the eyes of another.

Maybe in another life, this is his race car, and Riki just got first place. 

Everything jerked sideways. Only the stone of the bridge filled my sight sporadically alongside the profile of Riki’s face. A loud crunch of metal echoed with the shattering of glass. I feel the seatbelt holding me back as my chest tightens. We both lurched forward, adrenaline resounding throughout my entire body. This sound is the cadence of death. My body is weightless, I flow with the pressure. There's no way to prepare for how reality warps.

This final blow lands us in the infinite peace of Bonachita. My pretty, curated, illusion. 

[soullesssenpai]

meet the righteous wrestlers: bayley

hi d20 fans! as both a ttrpg lover and a wrestling fan, I thought it would be fun to do mini-histories for each of the righteous wrestlers appearing in titan takedown! I did a little poll and none other than BAYLEY had the most votes, so I'll be starting with her!

disclaimer: wrestling has a lot lot of silly terms! that jess ross presentation is, of course, a great primer, but I'll try to explain words as they pop up. when in doubt, assume any "heat" (aka beef) between wrestlers is purely fictional, and all these folks like each other when the cameras aren't rolling, even if they hit hard in the ring :) BAYLEY !!!!!

bayley (no last name) aka pamela martinez, is from san jose (she's from the Bay Area, hence the name "bay-ley") and has been wrestling with wwe since 2012, and is one of the most decorated women in the company's history. she's the first triple crown winner and women's grand slam winner in wwe history, which means she's been the first to hold a fuckton of titles (including the NXT women's championship, raw women's championship, smackdown women's championship, women's tag titles (but we'll get to that) and wwe women's championship) as well as winning money and the bank and the royal rumble, two of wwe's most important pay per views.

*sidenote, as you will learn, wwe has so many titles that go through so many arbitrary name and brand switches. it is kind of a headache to try and keep track of them all, especially without a working knowledge of what shows existed and when.

wrestlers cycle through characters/personalities (called "gimmicks") for their in-ring personas, and when bayley debuted, she had a "hugger" gimmick — a high ponytail, bows and headbands, bright colors, inflatable balloon people, the whole nine years. think jojo aiwa, but endearing and like-able. she was bubbly, she was happy, she was squeaky-clean and very kiddish in a sea of divas, and a very athletic performer to boot. she eventually nagged her first title, the nxt women's championship, in an iconic match with her longtime rival and real-life best friend sasha banks, who played the mean girl to Bayley's lovable underdog. if you've only got time to watch one match in Bayley's career, this one wouldn't be a bad choice:

As Bayley's career progressed and she continued to rise, she made it to the main roster, eventually ditching the ponytail and inflatable dancing guys (in a very iconic segment where she destroyed the bayley buddies) and going from a "face" (good guy) to a "heel" (a bad guy). New, edgier bayley continued to win titles and maintain an on-again-off-again friendship with Sasha Banks, which included a gruesome hell in a cell match during the "off" part and a women's tag team championship reign in the "on" parts. they were called "boss n hug connection" as tag champs, which isn't an important detail, but a stupid one. this video of bayley and sasha on commentary is a good encapsulation of their friendship outside the ring.

Bayley and Sasha are also part of an unofficial group called the 'four horsewomen' of wwe: four influential women's wrestlers who all came up in nxt at the same time and helped WWE take women's wrestling's more seriously. the other two horsewomen are Charlotte Flair (daughter of ric flair, for those who watched the jess ross video), and becky lynch, my favorite wrestler of all time.

But the four horsewomen isn't Bayley's only wrestling girl gang: she also started her own stable (wrestling group), recruiting Dakota Kai and Iyo Sky to form Damage CTRL, a heel faction whose hobbies mostly consisted of running around jumping people backstage. their formation at SummerSlam was a very gaggy moment. Damage CTRL were menaces and they made everybody's lives a nightmare, and Bayley was having a blast until IYO and Dakota ultimately brought other members into the fold, and the group turned on her.

Nowadays, Bayley is back to being a babyface (having learned her lesson with Damage CTRL) and is working on mending fences (in wrestling story) with the other women on the roster, namely Bianca Belair. Overall, because of her insanely decorated WWE run, her veteran status on the roster, her dedication to the art of wrestling, and her general chill, good vibes, Bayley is both a fan-favorite and a locker room leader in WWE.

I thiiiink that's all the big stuff, but wrestling fans, feel free to sound off in the replies if I'm missing any big stuff! If people want more, I think next up will be either Xavier woods or Chelsea Green :)

[sillyromance]

Good day everyone!

Warning: plant pred/human prey; angst; a character in pain; platonic relationships; healing vore, yet open ended.

I've been haunted by some thoughts on a sci-fi story where a crew of an exploratory space ship includes two best friends: 1) a sentient plant with mimic abilities who works as a paramedic; 2) a tough female warrior rescued from a planet which inhabitants are stuck in their equivalent of our medieval era - her job is to protect her new mates during missions outside of the ship.

The plant is carnivorous and needs to hunt periodically. Yet, it refuses to devour anyone of the crew due to the attachments it has formed and the moral code it has learnt to respect communicating with other races. Also the plant doesn't have a gender, but goes with she/her pronounce, appears as a human girl and calles itself Nova. Meanwhile, Nova's tough friend is Valerik.

One day, when the ship lands on another planet, those who go on the first mission are assaulted by the local tribes. Valerik, shielding a crew member, gets severely wounded. Weak and whimpering, she is brought back on board.

There it's discovered that her body is infected with a very strong poison of unknown origin.

Nova and other doctors try to find the antidote, but, no matter what they do, nothing seems to work. Meanwhile, Valerik has to endure horrible pain violating her entire body; it can be barely blocked by medications. It only grows stronger as days pass by, causing the woman to scream and cry in despair, unable to sleep, or eat, or at least distract herself from the feeling of her bones being tied in knots.

Nova can't watch her dear friend suffer this much anymore. She shows up at the Valerik's door with a risky proposal.

Sometimes plants of Nova's kind can heal other creatures by processing them and keeping the cells alive within while the recipient's immune system is studying the problem and producing the cure. Afterwards, the "prey" gets reconstructed. Yet, there is no way to predict if the outcome will be successful; some plants have been registered consuming the cells they've been assigned to carry for their bodies were powerless to do anything with diseases they faced.

Therefore, if Nova was to "eat" Valerik, the latter might never come back...

Nova explains everything to her friend and asks her if the warrior agrees to try this last solution. The plant admits that she can't give any credits for Valerik recovering soon: the process might take months, or even years to complete. It may not end well at all. However... at least the woman would be saved from pain.

Valerik is deeply touched by her friend's care. Despite the risks, she accepts Nova's offer. The poison would kill her anyway, sooner or later. With that in mind, becoming a part of her friend, temporarily or permanently, doesn't seem to be a bad alternative.

Nova informes the staff about the experiment, then returns to Valerik. The plant shows her true form: long flexible vains coil around the warrior's limp body and gingerly tug it into a huge blue blossom which gently closes around its prey, encapsulating her into a soft live cocoon.

The woman looks around. Sweet honey scent lingers in the chamber. Fluorescent walls soothe her restless mind with gentle shimmering. The woman's form slightly sinks into pliant, warm folds beneath - lying here already eases soreness in her joints...

Yet, suddenly, Valerik's breath hitches in her throat. Admiring the view, she hasn't been paying attention to the thick vains squeezing her legs and torso with more determination than before, firmly holding her in place while smooth flesh of the plant suddenly begins to ooze and ominously sizzle with viscous dark liquid.

Before she starts panicking, a familiar small hand lays on her forehead.

- N-Nova? - Valerik mummbles, stunned, blinking at her friend sitting nearby.

- Yes, darling, it's me. - Nova, her human form coos, stroking the woman's hair. - How are you feeling?

- ...I'm scared. - Valerik confesses, flushing in shame. Her red cheek receives a loving kiss.

- I know... It's OK. I won't hurt you, Valerik. My body will be exceptionally careful; it will make you feel very, very good. Plus, you won't be alone! All the way through, I will be here, with you, talking to you, and you can tell me anything that concerns you, sweetheart.

Soon, slimy juices begin to flood the "stomach"; petals, which looked so fragile and tender from the outside, tighten around the prey with unexpected force.

- Digestion is starting. - Nova replies at Valerik's confused gaze. - I know you've been hurting, badly, but once my acids touch you, your turmoil will end. It's scary, and you want to fight, I get it - and I won't blame you if you try, it's a normal reaction! But... trust me - all I want is to help. Just let go. Let me do this for you.

- I... I believe you, Nova. - Valerik smiles meekly. - I'll try.

Eventually, her muscles relax; the vains loosen their grip too and slide into their invisible gaps. Valerik's clothes swiftly drinks in the juices, making her skin tingle at the contact.

At first, sensation is rather unpleasant - the warrior has to force herself from jerking away. Yet, as the liquid is gradually rubbed into her skin, she notices changes.

The pain is gone. Dissolved into nothing.

Valerik gasps, shoked... then rolls her eyes with a long, satisfied groan.

- Oh, Gods... That's... Incredible!..

Nova barely holds away sobs as she watches Valerik laughing - and turning into formless goo down below. She brings the woman closer to her chest, their hands entwined.

- Thank you so much... - The warrior breathes out, her eyes sparkling with childish joy.

- Your welcome, Valerik... - The plant whispers, affectionately stroking the woman in her hold, eyes never leaving a peaceful face of her precious friend.

Valerik has already fallen asleep, exhausted after a row of insomniac nights, with a wide smile on her pale, bitten lips.

She is numb and relieved, at last.

.......

When Nova is back at work, her colleagues do their best to cheer her up. The plant grins and pretends to be fine. Nevertheless, when no one is looking, her face drops.

She takes off her work robe and looks at herself in the mirror.

Intentionally, she has given her avatar a rounded belly; Valerik is digesting slowly, and Nova wants to be aware of this even while being in disguise. Her hands idly caress the lump - it's still solid and full, and it will remain like this for a good week.

But nothing draws her attention more than her forearms covered in greenish patterns. They are moving and lighting up ever so often, separate tiny dots dancing like fireflies from her elbows to the neck, tangling into complicated shapes and stars of immence beauty.

Those are the cells, Valerik's soul tucked safely beneath Nova's skin where no one and nobody can hurt her again. The plant traces them with remorse on its pretty human face. Nova wishes things would never come this far. Now, she has eaten someone she loves so devotedly...

...Who knows if they ever see each other again?..

The only excuse she finds for herself is the last gleeful smile adorning Valerik's angelic face at her last moments.

In upcoming future, all the plant's body will be covered in swirling lines of cells travelling around in its veins. Sometimes, when Nova's grief will consume her mind, warm green light will embrace her crooked form, as if Valerik was trying to comfort her, reminding Nova she is still around, loyal to their bond.

Nova will never give up on her.

Even if hundreds of years must be taken away, she will still wait for her friend to wake up...

[thebellearchives]

HELLO and congrats on the followers milestone!! Yippeee!!! You probably saw this coming fdjhvjj there's so many good prompts to choose from aaaa but i think i'll go with "You're the best thing to have ever happened to me" with Solomon hehe thank you!! I love your works 🫶🫶

𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃

~ solomon ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : when Solomon’s staring at you you probably have no idea of the amount of things that go through his head

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff

‧₊˚ a / n : omg thank you sooo much Ven!! I really called upon my inner poet on this one, hope you enjoy! thanks for loving my writing i love you 🥹🫶🏻

prompt list

Solomon’s gaze is fixed on you, and it has been for a while. He examines your pretty lashes, your smooth skin, alluring lips. He swears he’s engraved the curves that form every single one of your hair strands on the back of his mind. He’s been so absorbed in the sight of you that he can hear his heated up heartbeat drumming in his ears. Humanity’s strongest sorcerer has been bewitched by you.

The curse of immortality is a heavy one. He has lived a life that counts as many, he has stories for days, for months. His pupils have seen heaven and hell, he’s seen creatures that are believed to be fairy tales and some that don’t even exist anymore. His body has felt all kinds of emotions, fear, surprise, adoration, betrayal, grief. He’s been hurt and rejected, praised and admired.

And yet when you’re close to him it all ceases to exist. All the pain, the loneliness and despair make sense. All the marvelous experiences pale in comparison to being in your presence. All of the things that are encapsulated in his immortality are suddenly worth living again if it means he’ll get back to you in the end.

You raise your eyes and stare at him, the curiosity that shines in them each time you see him makes his stomach get tied in knots.

“What is it, Sol?”

And heavens he has never in his long life felt what he feels when you call him like that. For a short second his throat closes up, he’s not able to properly put into words what being privileged with your attention feels like.

“It’s just…” he isn’t even able to remember everything he’s been through, but he’s certain that he has never spoken truer words as the ones that stumbled out of his mouth in that moment “you’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

Shades of pink bloom across your cheeks, and he is almost certain he’s able to name every single one. Flustered, you blink repeatedly and look away.

“That’s so out of the blue” you’re terrible at receiving compliments and he loves it.

Telling you all sorts of flirty comments and romantic words just to see you blushing breathes life into every single one of his cells, it almost gives immortality a whole new meaning. Solomon is in love with you to the bone, and when you’re around he knows you’re the reason he’s lived all this years. He had never been cursed, he had been blessed.

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Peace Offerings Pt. 14

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: In the previous chapter, Reader was separated from Joel and placed her trust into another member of the group to find their way to him. When they stop into a house to find food and shelter, they run into a man named David and things take a turn for the worst.

Chapter warnings: MDNI 18+, Jackson! au, No Ellie! au, extreme angst, cannibalism, mentions of murder/death/loss, suicidal ideation, cursing, attempted SA, Reader is locked in a cage, broken bones, Reader is knocked out with chloroform.... lmk if i missed any other fun things! :)

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Fourteen

I didn’t know what to do. In the new world, it wasn’t a custom to politely introduce yourself anymore. Usually you’d hold a gun up and pray they wouldn’t shoot you first, but this man was standing in front of me and holding his hand out to shake. It felt completely unnatural. I couldn’t help but wonder what Joe would do in this situation. I concluded that he definitely would not shake the man’s hand, so I backed away and stood with my hands crossed over my chest. “Hello David.” I said, trying to sound as intimidating as possible, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He chuckled lightly and began to pace across the living room, “Well, you see… You and your friend have wandered into my commune, and I take the safety of my people very seriously. I need to be sure you’re not a threat.” I swallowed. Commune was a scary word, and made the man’s welcoming, yet unsettling demeanor make sense. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was dealing with a cult leader of some sort. If so, I had to get out of there, and fast.  “Look, David, I can assure you that my friend and I are not a threat to your people. We were just passing through the town and hoping to find something to eat along the way.” I explained innocently. He nodded and stared at me as if he was deciphering me like some sort of code. “You’re hungry?” He asked, his voice lacking the enthusiasm it once carried. “Well, I’m okay but my friend is-” The man cut me off, “Well then you must come with me to our mess hall. There’s plenty of food to go around here.” He smiled. My stomach flip flopped, and upon instinct I blurted out a “No thank you.” His smile quickly folded into a frown. “You’re really going to pass up a free meal? Since when has anyone offered you one of those in the past twenty years?” He questioned suavely. He sounded like a salesperson. “I normally wouldn’t, but my friend and I are in a rush to get somewhere. Just point us towards the exit and we won’t be in your hair anymore.” I said. He pressed his lips together and turned to look over his shoulder into the kitchen. “I’m not sure if your friend will be going anywhere anytime soon.” He said wearily as he looked back at me. “Wha-” My question was caught in my throat when I followed his gaze around the corner and caught sight of Jacob who was sprawled across the floor with a knife buried into his neck. My heart began to pound in my chest and the familiar feeling of adrenaline pumped through my veins. I turned back towards David with my fists balled, but suddenly a strong, sweet smell filled my nose as a cloth was pressed against my face. I tried not to breathe, knowing it was a chloroform rag, but it was too late. My fighting slowed as my vision darkened and I fell unconscious. 

~~~~~~~~

The sound of a knife hitting wood rythmically slowly pulled me into consciousness. My head pounded and the sweet, alcoholic smell was stuck in my nose. Every limb ached as I  examined the small metal cell that encapsulated me. I stopped short when I saw where the noise was coming from. Horror filled my body as a human arm fell to the floor as the figure brought down the cleaver once more. My hand flew to my mouth to push the bile back down my throat. The dizziness from being knocked out caused me to fall back into the metal, causing the rungs to vibrate at the impact. The figure paused momentarily and then called out, “David! She’s awake!” I scrambled to sit up against the furthest side of the cage, ensuring that he had no way to get to me through the bars, and eyed him aggressively as he walked into the room. 

“How are you feeling?” David asked as he bent down to my level on the opposite side of my enclosure. My hands were pressed up against my chest, instinctively making myself smaller. “Super.” I blurted. He dropped a tray that he’d been carrying onto the ground and slid it through the gap between the bars and the floor. The gap I wished I was small enough to slip through and disappear. “Here, eat. You’ve been out so long… Must be starving.” He said softly. I stared at the contents of the tray. The majority of it was some kind of meat with a pitiful amount of rice. “What kind of meat is it?” I asked reluctantly. “Deer.” He answered stoicly. I scoffed at his blatant lie and kicked the tray with such force that the contents flew across the cell. Some even landed on his shoe. “You’re a fucking animal.” I grunted through my teeth. He leaned closer to the bars and his lip curled up into a sneer, “Oh… You’re awfully quick to judgement. Considering you and your friends killed how many of my men back at your little camp site?” My mind traveled back to that fight outside the tents. Those were his men? And then it all made sense. He captured me for revenge for killing his precious followers. 

“They didn’t give us a choice.” I said emotionlessly. “And you think we have a choice? Is that it? You kill to survive... and so do we. We have to take care of our own. By any means necessary.” He demanded. “So now what? Are you going to chop me into tiny little pieces because I killed a few of your delusonal prospects?” I questioned mockingly. “You killed husbands, fathers, brothers. That is nothing to joke about. But I’d rather not kill you. I figure you telling me your name would help me convince the others not to either.” He said in a dark tone, all while trying to keep his patience. I was sick of being looked at like his next meal so I shakily pulled myself up to stand in the center of the cell. David rose off of his knees and to my eyeline. “I’m not telling you shit. Killing me or doing whatever the fuck you’re going to do is not going to bring back your men, so just let me go.” I demanded as I stepped closer to him. He stood on the other side of the bars unmoving, but his lips curled into an even more threatening sneer. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. See, there’s this saying… ‘an eye for an eye.’ Ever heard it before?” He asked patronizingly. I gulped as I nodded slowly. “Right. Now, four men equals four eyes and unless I’ve counted wrong… you only have two.” My nails dug into the palms of my hands as I waited patiently for him to get to him to get to his point. He moved to the doorway, but continued, “Luckily, your brother counted as two more.” 

I hurled myself towards the metal bars, banging and pushing as hard as I could. “What the fuck did you do to him?” I growled at David. He walked over to me and wrapped his hands around the rungs. “Let’s just say… his life will help many others to prosper.” He whispered softly. My heart nearly stopped. Though nearly blinded by anger and adrenaline, I still saw an opportunity and wasted no time as I brought my elbow down onto his knuckles, slamming them onto the horizontal bar below. A loud cracking sound filled the air along with David’s pained scream. I reached through the cell door and ripped the key ring off of his belt loop and it ripped away as David fell to the ground. I kept my eye on him as I immediately began fumbling with the lock. David was snapping out of his pained state, but I was faster, and pushed the door open before sprinting down the hallway. 

My coordination was low from the dizziness as I tried to navigate our way through the kitchen and to the nearest exit. We ended up going further into the restaurant and found ourselves in the dining room. “I thought you’d be smarter than to think you’re getting out that easily.” David’s voice called out. I quickly crouched behind a booth and peeked over the seats to see him standing there with a machete hanging from his right hand. After throwing a piece of shrapnel away from me to make sure he was heading the opposite way, I began to move, lunging between boothes to stay out of sight. I neared him and planned to take him from behind with a strangle move I’d seen Joel do. 

I was inches away from him now, close enough to see the sweat gathering on the back of his neck. I seized the opportunity and launched myself onto David’s back and wrapped my arm around his neck, squeezing with all of the strength I had in me. Sickening gurgling sounds left his mouth as I continued to strangle him and I felt his knees buckling under him. The burning in my arms was only motivation to keep my grip on him, and he finally fell to the ground, taking me down with him. I gasped for breath as I stood up off of him and turned to run out of the door that was feet away, but a sharp sting spread through my calf. I cried out as I toppled to the ground, my head landing inches away from David’s. A sick smile spread across his face. “You’re weak.” He said through his teeth as he pushed himself off of the ground, “Just how I like ‘em.” I tried to sit up and grasp for my leg, but he pushed me down harshly by my shoulder and proceeded to push his body onto mine. I squealed, pushed, and kicked in attempt to get him off of me, but he was too big, too determined. “That’s it, keep fighting.” He breathed. Nausea filled my stomach as I felt him reach down and unzip his pants and began trying to rip my clothes off.  I continued to fight, digging my nails into the ground and bringing my knees into his stomach over and over again. Suddenly my hand connected with something hard. Something metal. It was the machete. I grasped it and wasted no time burying it under David’s ribcage. A look of shock occupied his face before his whole body fell onto me. 

I was numb. David’s limp body was still draped over mine, but I didn’t have the strength to move it. I’d begun to accept defeat. My brother was gone and Joel nowhere to be found. My last two motivations to be alive were now gone. So there I laid, under my captor on the grimy floor of a restaurant that was being engulfed in flames. The smoke burnt my lungs, but I didn’t care. I breathed in further, hoping it would make my demise come quicker. As I lay there, my mind went back to when Matthew and I were younger. Sitting next to our father’s strawberry plants and stuffing our faces, causing red rings to form around our mouths. I smiled at the memory and felt a tear drip down towards my ear. 

Suddenly a loud bang rattled the walls of the restaurant. I stayed still, figuring that it was the ceiling collapsing, but flinched when I heard my name being called. I thought I was imagining it, that I was finally letting go, but then I saw Joel’s face over me. His eyes were wild with concern. “Joel.” I choked. He grunted as he pushed David’s body off of me, his face dropping when he caught sight of David’s undone belt and zipper. My hands floated up to reach for him and he quickly obliged, gathering my quivering form up against his chest. “S’okay babygirl. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He soothed as I sobbed against him. I began to cough between sobs from the smoke gathering in the air, and he quickly moved to carry me outside. 

It had snowed more since I’d been captured, and the air stung my exposed skin. Joel set me down gently onto my feet and hurriedly shrugged his heavy jacket off before draping it over my shoulders. “Here.” He breathed before his arm moved to wrap around my shoulders and he began to coral me into the woods, away from the burning building. Suddenly, I dropped to my knees and my breathing became frantic. I was finally processing that my brother was gone. That he’d been murdered, chopped up, and eaten. Joel knelt down next to me and wrapped his arm around me once more as I sat there heaving. I tried to speak, to explain, but I could only manage one word at a time between gasps. “He…. they…” Joel pulled me against himself again and pressed my head under his chin and whispered, “God I’m so sorry.” He pulled away and wiped the wetness from my cheeks and under my nose. “But you’re not hurt.” He said weakly, “Thank fucking god you’re okay.” He pulled me into him again before pressing his lips to the top of my head. I let my body go limp against his. I was relieved to be with him again, to be safe in his arms, but I was so very far from being okay. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: This was an INTENSE chapter but it's not a Joel fic without angst in every chapter lmao. I hope you enjoyed and as always thank you for reading!!

Taglist:

@ashleyfilm @ayamenimthiriel @demonsasss

Masterlist | Next Part

[tobiasdrake]

Between the Galick Gun, The Final Flash, and the Final Explosion, which of these Vegeta moves is A: The Coolest B: The most representative of Vegeta and C: The most successful

Answering these in order:

A - Coolest: Final Explosion.

This is Peak Vegeta.

Not in the sense of being the most representative of Vegeta, but in the sense of... literally being the peak of his character arc. This is it. This is the apex of the journey that Vegeta had been on since the day we met him.

We don't know what the full plan was originally for the Majin Buu arc. We know that Gohan was supposed to remain the main character and we can see that play out. This arc sees Gohan off to his own Climbing Karin Tower arc.

It's the same thing Toriyama did a lot with Goku. Gohan's missing in action and is undergoing secret ultra-training so he can return at the 11th hour and slay Majin Buu; The rest of us just have to hold the line until he gets here.

This changed significantly later in the arc, when Toriyama decided he liked Goku better and flipped the script on poor Gohan. We don't know when exactly that decision was made or know for sure what the original plan would have looked like.

But it's interesting to note that Vegeta only came back with Goku. Vegeta's return was a tool to reignite Goku's relevancy.

There is a real possibility that, had things gone according to the original plan, this would have genuinely been Vegeta's swan song. So with something like this, it's important to ask the question. What if this was it?

What if this were the final word on the Saiyan Prince?

It's not about what would be better or what would be worse. Just. If we never saw Vegeta again after this point, would we be satisfied? Would we feel that the story had said all there was to say? Would we need any more?

For me, I could have lived with this. If this was where Vegeta ended, I could have walked away satisfied with it. This was a powerful capstone on the story of an incredibly flawed man. A heroic sacrifice by a man who finally found something worth dying for, but whose heroism is tainted by the ugly reality that he made this problem to begin with; Itself a meaningful summation of the complicated and morally compromised life that he lived.

It did not end up being the final word. But it could have been, and it's no less beautiful for the later series walking back on it.

B - Most Representative: Final Flash

This is the technique that truly captures the spirit of Vegeta's martial style. In his heart of hearts, Vegeta's a blaster. He can fight hand-to-hand, to be sure. He's no slouch at it. But he loves to shoot, moreso than any other character.

He has multiple different named techniques for "Shoot the guy with concentrated ki REALLY HARD." Galick Gun, Big Bang Attack, Final Flash, they're all concentrated blasts. Vegeta likes to shoot.

I talked about this quite a bit before in my breakdown of Goku and Vegeta. Vegeta muscles through like a soldier, but his ki blasts legitimately are the most powerful ki blasts around (with possible exception of the Kikoho/Tri-Beam).

Final Flash perfectly encapsulates that, as an attack that could very well have vaporized Cell and ended things before the Cell Games were even an idea in his head... had Vegeta been willing to destroy the Earth to do it.

Given the damage we see it do to Cell, a wider beam would have been as catastrophic for him as it was for the planet.

This technique, moreso than the other two, best encapsulates Vegeta's style as a fighter.

C - Most Successful: Galick Gun

Both Final Flash and Final Explosion are powerful moments for Vegeta, but if we're talking effectiveness then they're held back by the fact that they achieved nothing.

Majin Buu and Cell both regenerated and kept on going like it didn't happen. In strictly utilitarian terms, Final Flash and Final Explosion both failed.

Galick Gun lost the exchange Vegeta used it in.

But it won him the fight. Goku had to push his Kaio-ken to x4 in order to pull this off, and that was a step too far for his body to handle.

At this point, Goku's cooked. He's still got ki to spare, certainly. He's not out of the fight completely.

But his body simply can't keep up anymore. His whole body is fried. Imagine a balloon that's been overinflated to the point that starts springing holes in it for the gas to spill out. That's Goku. That is his body.

It needs to be said that the Fake Moon/Oozaru trick did most of the heavy lifting for winning this fight for Vegeta. Like. Goku had no chance against this thing. Remember when Goku fired up his Kaio-ken and made Captain Ginyu shit himself?

180,000 is also the exact Battle Power of Vegeta's Oozaru form. True facts. At least, in the best of circumstances. Having to use the Fake Moon technique costs Vegeta a substantial enough amount of ki for it to be worth commenting on.

(Fun fact, Raditz was so weak that even as an Oozaru, he'd get his teeth kicked in by base form Vegeta.)

So. Yeah. The fact that Vegeta was an Oozaru is the key factor in his absolute shitstomp of Goku that followed the Beam Struggle. But the fact that Goku's entire body was so burned out he could barely offer any sort of defense is also a factor.

Could Vegeta have still shitstomped Goku if he hadn't done this? I don't know.

Could Goku have actually found a solution to the Oozaru if he wasn't already at the end of his rope? I don't know.

What I do know is that the Galick Gun brought Vegeta closer to victory than the Final Flash or Final Explosion, and so it wins category C.

[mildcharacterenjoyer]

In His Heart

Or Shadow finally understands what it truly means to keep someone in your heart.

(It's whump!) Emotional whump

It's like almost 1 and I've been rewriting this thing for six hours. I'll do word counts and reworks tomorrow.

Some triggers are like mentions of death and sickness. Also big emotional rollercoaster. Enjoy!

~~~~~

Loss. Everyone went through it. That much Shadow knew. But he wasn't just anyone. He was the ultimate lifeform, a being designed to withstand the end of the universe's existence and possibly beyond. Which meant anyone he might meet, would cease to be while he lived on.

How could he possibly expect to enjoy his life when all he could think about was the losses he had yet to experience? Or the losses he already had? First Maria, his sister, taken from him before they could fulfill their promises to one another on the planet looming below. Professor Gerald, his creator, rotted in a cell crafted by the very same people he served today.

G.U.N. 'A former agent of GUN.' He would curse the name as he did the Black Arms that flowed within him. Why was he here? If only they knew the pain they had caused him. Of course he had to go and lose his memory only to wind up serving the very same corporation that provided him with his first taste of loss.

His hate ran deep, but in truth his sorrow is what flowed into his core. The anger, just a cover up to encapsulate his true emotions from emerging. Maria had always told Shadow that "he had a good heart." What good is a heart corrupted by sorrow and rage yearning for nothing but revenge for this overwhelming loneliness he experienced?

Shadow could fall deeper into his despair and anguish if he wanted. How quick he could be to throw his old self to the wayside and be reborn as the visceral hatred he harbored, but he would only become that which he had already destroyed. The battle for his blackened heart begins again. A continuous war for control over the ultimate lifeform's very existence. Black Doom had nearly claimed his victory over Shadow's mind each time the hedgehog would focus solely on his pain and suffering. It was the memories tied to Maria that kept him fighting the wretched fool from dragging him into a pit of his own darkness.

He could hear her now, playing and singing to her heart's content. Her voice had calmed him. What would she say if she could see him like this? So full of spite and anger. Would she too be angry? No. He knew her too well. She would cry.

"Shadow! No! Please! This isn't you! You're not like this. Please stop it. I can't bear to see you like this! I want you to be happy Shadow. Shadow! SHADOW!"

All at once, the storm that raged within him ceased. There hung an uneasy balance between his thoughts and feelings as they attempted to locate the source of the sudden peace. Within the stillness, something flickered as it fell into the recesses of his corrupted heart. The surrounding blackness explodes violently, cracking and melting as it had done so many times prior. The storm swirled angrily above as the sorrow began to flood into every fiber of his being. It fought to contain its hold on Shadow's heart, plugging each bubbling spring with its black tendrils. The flicker flashed mightily from within, shattering what remained of Black Doom's hold and his dying anger.

Waves of sorrow erupted from within Shadow's heart crashing against themselves and everything they touched. He missed her. He missed her more than his anger towards G.U.N. He missed her more than his hatred towards Black Doom. He missed her more than his confidence in himself, the ultimate lifeform.

She was everything to him. Now all that were left were memories of a shadow that no longer existed, and a girl that was robbed of her childhood; killed, before her sickness had a chance to claim her life.

He grieved. He would bottle everything up he had ever felt until he could no longer take it and he would spill. Time after time again Shadow would push himself through this self-destructive angstfest. Would it ever stop? How could this unhealthy cycle be any different from the next?

He had always ignored that flicker in his heart that had sparked his sorrow and quelled his anger. The one that softened his heart and gave him a small sense of the Shadow he used to be. He had been afraid of what he would see had he turned his attention to it. The fatigue of his latest emotional rollercoaster gave way to his curiosity.

He took the plunge into his sorrow, swimming through all the emotions he hid behind so much anger. Ironic, how exhaustion kept him going past some of his most somber of feelings. As he reached for his heart, the flicker began to brighten, responding to his approach. He pushed forward, noticing the sorrow around him beginning to fade as the light fully enveloped him.

The first thing he experienced was warmth. It was not something he expected to feel. The closest he could remember encountering this was during one Christmas with Gerald and Maria. The memory suddenly appeared before him, springing to life in all the ways he recalled it. Maria singing carols, Professor Gerald teaching them how to make Christmas cookies, and Shadow opening up his first Christmas gift from Maria: A pair of skates.

The memory dissolved and was replaced with the box of skates. Panic rose within Shadow. He could run. He could escape, close his heart up, and never have to look at these memories again. He hesitated. But, when was the last time he was happy? Had it been 50 years ago? It was...nice...but there was no Maria. "But she is here." Shadow's own voice boomed. "And so am I."

Maria appeared. "You found me. I missed you so much Shadow. I was so worried you had lost your way." It was a memory from when they were playing hide and seek on the Ark, but Shadow took a bit longer to find her.

"Remember Shadow," The calm and collected voice of Professor Gerald rang throughout the hedgehog's heart and mind. "Anger is a tool. You must not let it control you. Keep what is close to you in your heart so that you might always know what you are living for."

"Shadow." Maria called out again from another memory. "Do you want to know why I keep you in my heart? It's so that I will always have you with me when we are apart. You also help me when I'm scared of the monsters under the bed or if I had a nightmare. The thought of you helps me chase so many bad thoughts away." Maria then hugs the younger Shadow in the memory. The flicker was back and in strong effect. "Oh Shadow. I hope that one day you have lots of people in your heart to help you with your bad thoughts."

-----

"I want my friends in my heart." Shadow exhaled breathlessly. He had showed up to Rouge's place not 30 seconds ago looking like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"W-what?" Rouge stuttered. Omega also sat up slightly perplexed. They studied Shadow, noticing just how exhausted and beat up he looked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm tired of hurting alone. This isn't what Maria would have wanted. And...it's not what I want either." Omega and Rouge shared a very concerned look.

"WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH SHADOW?" Omega asked.

"It's still me." Shadow explained flatly. "I keep losing this same emotional battle I've been putting myself through even if I win. I...don't want to do this by myself anymore."

Shadow turns around to see Rouge and Omega staring at him intently for what he was about to say next.

"You both were right there beside me for so many years and I let my anger and hate get in the way of the true friendship I could have had with you two. Will you let me back into your lives again, even after I've been so distant?"

Expressions of overjoy and relief spread across her face. "Yes!!" Rouge exclaimed!

"TEAM DARK REFORMED!" Omega proclaimed.

Shadow allowed himself a small tired smile as he was drawn into the group hug, enjoying the embrace of the teammates he once thought he lost.

"And for the record," Rouge continued, squeezing him tighter. "You were already in my heart."

"HE WAS IN MY HEART FIRST."

"Can it you!" The banter continued on in the background as Shadow allowed himself to slip into unconsciousness, knowing he was in good hands. Somewhere in his heart, he knew he was telling Maria all the fun adventures Team Dark went on. He could feel that flicker of warmth burn bright within him. He just knew Maria would be proud of him.

And she was.

~~~~~

[music-interpretation-review]

TW: War, severe injury, suicidal ideation

Metallica's song One is based on the concept of a World War I soldier who had been devastatingly injured by an exploding mortar, losing his limbs, jaw, sight, and hearing. Metallica later learned of the movie Johnny Got His Gun, which has the same base concept, and used clips in the music video.

[cybershock24601]

Listening to Night Club again and California Killed Me is the most V Cyberpunk song I've heard. It really hits on the Night City as the City of Dreams with no happy endings theme that runs throughout cyberpunk and the weird mix of upbeat yet chill and melancholic beat with the depressing lyrics really encapsulate the way V just cruises through Night City doing anything everything while their inevitable death hangs over their head like the sword of damocles threatening to drop at any time but there's nothing they can do about it so they might as well just enjoy the time they have left living it up in the major leagues despite everything it cost to get them there.

A golden cell Heaven is hell They keep on lying

No words can tell My head’s not well I feel like dying

‘Cause I’m a victim of this Twisted fantasy And I’m addicted to the Darker side of me

I’m gonna drown my dreams in the sea You can tell them California killed me

California killed me

When they come to find my body Tell them California killed me

[movrning-fxlsifier]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤPROJECT ACLEIISTOS

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ a play of charades with ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ spilt blood .

SYNOPSIS .

thanks to an error in genetic code , there is a slight probability that a child will inherit an ability . most individuals do not possess these oddities due to them being errors , not common traits passed down in families . those born with powers are ostracized , viewed with fear and repulsion , isolated . in this world , a group of adults who have left their jobs due to various reasons have met to create a nightmare parade that defies the standards society imposes on them . that being said , there is a little more than meets the eye to these individuals , whether that be for better or for worse .

CAST MEMBERS FEATURED .

lyle renssalaer vernon . the director , 27 , male , h!him , rebel evil , entp , 12/24 , stringed suspension . the director is the leading figure in this tale , an enthusiastic man who coaxes his troupe to play their part . however , beneath all the glamour and glow he showcases , there are thick layers of deceit yet undiscovered . lore unknown .

orion vice hallere . the inquisitor , 29 , male , h!him , social impure , estj , 1/5 , assimilation . the inquisitor joined the director's troupe shortly after an incident in the bar he used to hold a job in . his previous lover abandoned him after charges of murder were placed on his record , and it was only when the director gave him another chance at survival did orion find a path to live while in secrecy . lore unknown .

cade cole chandler . the rule maker , 28 , male , h!they , lawful evil , entj , 8/13 , impersonation . the rule maker is a slippery man , someone who has a bit of an unclean record on his name . having worked as a news reporter and disappearing soon after his charges came to light , his name and record suddenly vanished days after his abrupt departure . lore unknown .

diane jess florence . the investigator , 25 , female , s!her , rebel good , estj , 6/24 , recreation . the investigator used to work with actual crime , much like her title suggests . having dealt with formal investigations and searching for the culprits of murders , she never pictured herself being the one to accidentally commit a crime herself . consumed with guilt and swept over with despair , she left her occupation , running into the director , who convinced her to join his troupe . lore unknown .

naomi lindsay miranda . the visionary , 22 , female , s!her , lawful moral , infj , 11/9 , encapsulation . the visionary , a young woman still in her studies , was accused wrongfully for the murder of her best friend . the case soon became popular , as the defendant did not utter a word , instead accepting every charge that was given to her name . the rule maker intercepted later on , and brought her to the director before she could be brought to her cell . lore unknown .

mercedes madeleine loraine . the performer , 26 , female , s!her , rebel moral , esfj , 10/21 , fluidity . the performer was a bright lady , a beautiful young woman who sang for others . the spotlight always made her the star , and her voice was one of the heavens . after an ' mishap ' in her show , however , she disappeared , and the lovely voice of the swan soon became a rumor of woe . lore unknown .

ian alistair ephraim . the manhunter , 30 , male , h!him , lawful neutral , istj , 2/23 , target focus . the manhunter was a graceful man . full of poise and professionalism , there truly was no greater privilege than being under his tutelage . he had an odd combination for professions: a hunter for invasive animal species and a fencing instructor , though most suspected that the latter served as a hobby . with silence as his first tongue and instruction as the second , he became renowned . then came less-than-favorable charges that stained his record black , ensuing his disappearance . lore unknown .

xander callum myron . the administrator , 31 , cismale , h!t!it , neutral impure , istj , 1/11 , morphism . the administrator is an uncovered tragedy , a thing or man that escapes all definition of normality . born under the care of a loving marriage , it has disappeared not once but twice , both of which were due to precarious circumstances . after his second disappearance , they encountered the director , who brought them into his troupe . lore unknown .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤPROJECT ACLEIISTOS

[sourpatchys]

May I request France era Daryl? Reader sees how stressed he is and, though she is feeling the same way, she wants to take his mind off things. Cue some sexy times.

Title: The Theory of Touch

Rating: NSFW❤️‍🔥 18+

Word count: 1.6k

Time: Daryl Dixon ep 1

Summary: Daryl and Reader haven’t met eye to eye since they were in America, with Daryl’s guilt over the situation, reader can’t seem to get through to him— until finally, they do. FEMALE reader!

A/N— please ignore the fact that the reader didn’t have a bra or shoes on. Just pretend she took them off to dry or something idk. Also! I haven’t written smut in over a year so I do apologize if it’s not up to par with my other works!

France. You hated France.

You couldn’t read any of the signs, you couldn’t understand any of the labels, you didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know how to get home.

You were lost, in a vacuum of uncertainty.

Daryl wasn’t really helping. Once you’d washed to shore, it was as if a switch flipped and he turned into a shell of the man you knew. He wasn’t speaking to you— he couldn’t even look at you.

You knew— he felt guilty. He was the one who started the fight that got you here. He wouldn’t talk to you in the cell either, apart from a grunt or a nod— he even shrugged you off when you tried to hold his hand.

You missed the man you’d married. He’d had his moments in the past— but they’d never lasted this unbearably long— not with you— never with you.

Finding that little abandoned boat was probably the best thing that’s happened to either of you in weeks. Not only was the past owner English speaking, but he had laid out a map, and unknowingly gave you the strength to keep going.

Even so, the issue with Daryl persisted long into the night. His spark was gone.

“Daryl.” You called, scooting over to him on the creaky floorboards. His back was turned to you as he stared up towards the cloudless sky, picking at the bones from the fish you had shared earlier in the day.

Of course, he didn’t answer.

“Daryl talk to me.” You borderline begged, reaching your hand up to grasp at his shoulder, begging to whatever god may be listening that he wouldn’t shrug you off again.

He didn’t, though he didn’t seem to be paying you any mind either. His coastal blue eyes still staring up, a newfound gleam settling itself over them. He was fighting back the urge to cry.

“I love you.” He finally cracked out, his head falling as his body shook.

He just didn’t know what to do. He had promised you so many years ago, that he’d protect you, that he would keep you safe no matter the cost. All he’s managed to do is cause trouble. He didn’t deserve your kind words. He didn’t deserve your love.

But his love was all he had to give. Not salvation, not protection, not even a roof over your pretty little head.

Wrapping your arms around him, you held him close, peppering small kisses along his tear stained cheek.

“I know you do, I know you do— I love you too.” You repeated over and over again, begging him to see you, to see that you were okay, to see that you loved him just as much as you did yesterday, just as much as the day you’d met him. He was your life, your reason for living.

The kisses continued, soothing their way up and down his neck, behind his ear and along his hairline. You needed his touch— and he needed yours.

After what felt like hours, he finally turned your way, his calloused hand making its way up to cradle your soft cheek as he leaned in, his lips finally encapsulating your own.

This kiss— it felt just like the first kiss you had ever shared, the absolute desperation in your body’s screaming to be satisfied. You couldn’t live without each other’s touch.

You quickly became breathless as his body pushed into yours, his teeth dragging along your lower lip as he begged you for permission to deepen the kiss— you of course, complied.

His tongue felt like fire against yours as his hands ripped their way under your clothes, his cold fingers tracing the indentation under your breasts, warming themselves up before engulfing them whole, squeezing and twisting your malleable skin.

Soon you felt your own hands doing much the same, sneaking their way to the hem of his shirt, begging for him to rip it off.

The cold air of the night long gone between the friction of your bodies.

Soon both of your shirts were long gone as he pushed you to the floor, the freezing feeling of the damp wood bringing you down from your high as Daryl crawled his way between your parted legs, his head darling straight for your neck as his hands once more moved to cup your breasts.

His mouth traced every vein and artery you had, sucking in perfectly round bruises as he skillfully made you lose your sanity.

The ache between your legs unable to be soothed as his hips were angled just perfectly to make it impossible to create friction.

“Baby please—“ you begged, silently groaning with half lidded eyes as you clawed your fingers down his spine, unable to take the sweet torture after weeks without it.

He didn’t listen to your begging however, he only moved his body downwards, making sure your legs had no chance of coming together. He wasn’t a sadist, but he did love to see you beg— to see you completely undone.

His tongue darted down your chest, leaving bitter kisses down its path, avoiding your nipples all together— he had a different craving that day.

He traced all the way down to the hem of your pants, tracing his fingers across the seams, sucking away at the spot right above where you needed him most.

You were almost in tears, feeling the hot building pressure begging for release. You dared not beg as you thrashed your body around, you needed him now, you couldn’t handle it any longer.

Ripping your hands from above your head, you threaded them into the archers hair, pushing his face where you needed it, almost growing as you did so.

He chuckled, his first real laugh in heaven knows how long, as he slowly undid your button and zipper, ripping down the rest of your clothing before sliding his hands under your thighs, pushing them up, refusing to give you the power you so desperately wanted.

With your body open to him fully, he took a glance at your beautiful wet folds, how they quivered in the newly chilly environment, as he brought his head down to you once more.

The first dart of his tongue was nothing but that— a tease to rile you up, purposefully missing all of the parts that needed attention.

“Daryl— Daryl please I can’t handle this— please!”

This time, he did listen to you, his tongue darting out once more, immediately circling your clit in a way that had you arching your body in utter relief.

His skillful tongue flicked and prodded, finding all of your weak spots using nothing but muscle memory, the hot boiling feeling building in the best way possible as you came closer and closer to your sweet release.

Soon his lips closed around your sensitive bud as he started sucking and lapping, his hand releasing your thigh as he slowly slid a finger into you, his calloused fingertip immediately finding the soft spot that drew you mad.

Your moan was quiet as you finally got your release, it came like hot boiling lava. You were positive you’d never had an orgasm so unbelievably blissful.

He rode you out throughout your high, slowing down his motions as your body began to twitch, your thighs quivering uncontrollably.

Soon his mouth and hand were removed, his eyes glancing into your own, both pairs half lidded.

A small laugh filled the space between the two of you, you were finally becoming yourselves again.

Daryl had planned on giving you time to recover, you were still heaving, your eyes completely glossed over— though you had other plans as you shoved your heel into his side, urging for him to continue.

You still needed his touch— you weren’t satisfied.

You watched as his beautifully crafted hands popped open his jeans, sliding them down to his knees.

He never was a guy who enjoyed underwear— and today was no different.

His cock sat firm between his legs, the tip already glistening with precum as he stroked himself, preparing his body for your warmth.

“I love you Daryl.” You whispered, looking him in the eyes as he began to trace the tip of his cock between your folds.

Instead of replying, he once again smashed your lips together as he slid himself inside you, the stretch once again igniting that soft burn between your legs.

The first few thrusts were deep and slow, his body colliding with yours over and over again as he began to create a blissful rhythm.

Your lips stayed connected as you once more fought for dominance, your tongues dancing with the melody of your body’s.

Daryl’s hands were gripping your hips so hard with every thrust, you knew you’d be sore, but just knowing he was touching you, that he was feeling you— it was worth it.

Every thrust lit a fire under your skin, constantly hitting that soft bundle inside of you— your head felt like static, all you could feel was him— his body— his breath. You were in heaven.

The build up of his vigorous hips happened much faster than before, your body was already beyond sensitive, as you felt the elastic band inside you snap, you once again spilled your high squeezing yourself around his cock as your warmth overtook him.

“Gnh—!” He growled, snapping his hips a few more times before ripping himself out of you and spilling all over your breathless, heaving body.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, catching your breath, listening for any change of sound around you. As quiet as you both tried to be, any noise is still noise.

Once the coast was deemed clear and the two of you had calmed down and gotten dressed, it seemed your relationship had been put back into place.

Lying on the floor, your head cradled into Daryl’s chest, you spoke one final time for that night,

“We can get through this, I know we can.”

[claudemblems]

One of my friends asked me to write for this prompt from the list I posted, and one of you requested Sherlock for it, so here you go. Enjoy the angst 🥹

Sherlock Holmes - Moriarty the Patriot

Prompt 18: hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time

Why didn’t he kill Jefferson Hope when he had the chance?

It was a horrible thing for a detective to consider, especially one that was determined to save as many innocent people as he could, but if he’d taken the offer presented to him, would things have turned out different? Would he have had the Lord of Crime bound and shackled, harbored in a prison cell for the rest of his life? Would the people no longer live in fear of seeing yet another murder plastered on the newspapers' front pages? If he'd taken the offer by killing Hope, Sherlock would have had all the information he needed to find the mastermind. The hard part would be proving his guilt.

But if he’d pulled that trigger, he would have not only learned the true identity of the Lord of Crime, but he would have put an end to Hope's suffering. He’d practically begged Sherlock to take his life, but, out of kindness or conscience, he couldn’t.

Honestly, how pathetic of a detective did he have to be to second guess not killing a man in cold blood.

“...Sherlock? Sherlock?”

The sound of your voice rang in Sherlock's ears, gradually dragging him out of his thoughts and back into the sitting room he rested in, his body splayed out across the couch.

“Are you all right?”

No would have been his first answer had he not cared about worrying you. With all this baggage weighing on his shoulders, he was almost tempted to let himself crumble underneath it.

“I’m fine,” he answered, finally sitting upright. The room still smelled of smoke from the cigarette he’d had earlier. However, when he looked down at the ashtray, it appeared he’d ended up having several more than that.

“For a detective, you’re a terrible liar. I hope you know that.”

Sherlock sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, dear.”

“I’m not joking around. I’m worried about you!”

Well, there went his efforts to not make you worry.

"I...I'm just thinking about a case, is all."

"It's the one where you were offered the name of the Lord of Crime, isn't it?"

Somehow you always knew exactly what had been troubling him.

"I just keep thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes, I imagine what it would have been like if I'd pulled the trigger. Would it have been a good thing to put that man out of his misery? Would I have caught the mastermind by now? Would London have been freed from his reign of terror...or am I just a foolish man who's no different than he is?"

Sherlock buried his head in his arms, fighting back the frustration that wanted to burst out of him. What should he do? What was the right thing to do? For once in his career, Sherlock had no evidence, no confidence, and not a clue of what to do next.

But in all this gloom surrounding him, your ray of light encapsulated him, determined to drive out the darkness in his mind.

"Even for a famous detective, it's okay to not know the answer," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his head next to your heart, its slow and steady beat a soothing lullaby. "You're human, and no human can be perfect. We're bound to be ignorant, to mess up, to get lost along the way...but that's to be expected. All we can do is rely on our morals and ambitions to keep us going. If we can't do that, what else will we have left?"

"...Do you think ill of me because I questioned if I should have killed that man?"

"No, I don't," you answered without hesitation, "because I know you never would. Truly, Sherlock, if you found yourself pulling the trigger, it wouldn't have been to learn the Lord of Crime's name but to save that man, Jefferson Hope, from the misery that consumed him. Your heart went out to him, didn't it?" Gently, you stroked Sherlock's hair, watching as the stress from the past few days slowly began to leave his face. "He killed the monster who had kidnapped his wife and put her through so much suffering. But even with him dead, Mr. Hope can never forget what was done to his beloved wife. The thought eats him alive day by day, and you understood that. Who wouldn't have compassion on a man that wanted a peaceful life for the woman he loved, only to have it ripped away from her?"

Sherlock clutched the edge of your shirt, and though he made no sound, you knew that he'd begun to cry.

"You're no monster, Sherlock. You're a man that wants to save all of London, but you can't. You can't save everyone. You know that, yet you still try."

"If I don't try...then who will?"

Tears fell down Sherlock's cheeks and onto your shirt like light summer rain, and you held him in the warmth of your arms, intent on sheltering his broken heart until the storm had passed.

"One day, love, you'll find the answers you're looking for. For now, take a deep breath, and you can think through all of this when your mind has cleared."

Sherlock cried for a long time, and your hold on him never once faltered. There, in your embrace, you knew he felt safe, and though no words were spoken, being in your presence was all he needed. Eventually your sunshine chased away the clouds, and Sherlock found himself ready to go searching for answers once more.

London needed him. He would not fail.

[dieasthedevilwp]

max!!! 'tis is!! i wanna spread dead agenda and ask questions.

MAZZY -

i thought of this as a joke, but now i think that mazzy dies. you said that she doesn't, but i think its fitting for her character. or, part of her character.

deep down, i think that mazzy never stopped being the soldiers shadow. she mimics and pays attention. i often wonder if bucky said jump, if mazzy would still ask him how high.

i think no matter if her code words are de-activated, and no matter what happens to her, she will always be the crying girl. i think she will die for bucky, because whatever is going to kill him, she will do her best to prevent it.

even if it means she dies.

okay anyways :))) dead mazzy agenda. (please dont set ur readers on me)

now questions!!!

if older!mazzy was a big thief/adrianne/arcade fire/the antlers/radiohead song, which would she be?

if rosie's life was a song, which song would it be?

if fraser's life was a song, which song would it be?

which OC changes the most from younger to older?

if rosie and negan were a song, which song would they be?

when negan starts to forget rosie and fraser, because that will happen, does it nearly kill him? does he pause and try not to cry when he realizes that he can't remember fraser's face anymore? maybe it was in that jail cell in alexandria, maybe his memory of fraser did with rosie.

if your oc's were a marvel character, which one would they be?

maybe this is a spoiler, but what does yelena think of cori? does she despise her, or does she want to protect her?

am i insane or did rosie have middle name "starling" at one point???

writing question (please help)

how do you find the confidence to publish a fic? i have a fic ready to post, but im too scared. i aint confident and im scared it'll flop. how do i find the confidence to publish it?

and a final question, what are silly things that agnes and devin do? if they were a song, which song would they be?

bye max!!! g'night!!!

yayy!! ziggy questions!!!!

dead mazzy agenda:

i haven't yet planned out the very end of mazzy's story, because i need to see what happens in thunderbolts* before i can do that, but i never planned on killing her originally. but you are very convincing..... we'll see how bucky's storyline goes in the films. i have to keep her alive to see dr doom in the body of her father, but after that..

older!mazzy as music:

big thief: "time escaping" encapsulates the messy sort of mindset older!mazzy has very well !!!

adrianne lenker: "steamboat" is super mazzy coded, because even when she leaves home to be on her own, she clings to bucky the moment she reaches the city. she wishes she were better at being alone!! i also feel like "feel better" can be applied to her.

arcade fire: "deep blue" for sure for sure

the antlers: "the universe is going to catch you" is extremely mazzy-ish. "well it was fine until you fell off / of the face of the earth / 'cause we would call you at home / and no one picked up the phone"

radiohead: "knives out" about tony, "how to disappear completely" about herself, and "let down" in regards to the crying girl. one day, she is gonna grow wings (be free from the monster that hydra put inside of her, whether that be in death or in life)

lives as songs:

rosie: every lyric in the song "get a life" by daffo can also be applied to a stage of rosie's life!! also, my friend nora sent me the song "monsters" by slaughter beach, dog, and the second half of that song is very very rosie coded.

fraser: "youth" by daughter and "angels" by adrianne lenker are both extremely fraser-ish songs.

bonus: rosie and fraser together will always "live that way forever" from the iron claw. that song is sososososo them on the beach. them battling with themselves for their own lives.

oc progression:

juni absolutely changes the most throughout her story. she goes from being the sweetest, most kind-hearted and understanding girl to ever walk the earth to someone who is so consumed by her anger that she can't see straight. while all of my oc's have character progression and change a lot throughout their stories, juni's change is by far the most dramatic. it makes me sad :(

rosie and negan:

i have always thought the song "some things last a long time" by daniel johnston is extremely rosie and negan. his picture is literally, to this day, still hanging on her bedroom wall, and it most likely will for the rest of eternity unless daryl decides to take it down. but, of course, all of my oc's have an "i'm your man" by mitski dynamic with at least one other character in their fic, and negan is rosie's "i'm your man" figure.

as negan gets older, he tries desperately to keep a grasp on the memories he has of the banks siblings. his memories of fraser are already foggy and distant by the time he's locked in that jail cell in alexandria, and when rosie dies, he realizes that he is likely the last person alive who remember fraser banks—a realization that reaches its hand into his chest and rips his heart out in one fell swoop. from then on out, he begins to write down every lasting memory he still has about the banks kids in a notebook. they deserve to be remembered, and he needs to keep their existence preserved.

marvel characters:

rosie would be yelena, i think. they both miss their older siblings more than anything in the world, they're both incredibly strong, fierce, and intelligent, and they're both pretty funny.

juni would be steve rogers. they are both the most clear examples of good in their universes.

mazzy is a mixture of tony and bucky, of course, and i don't think i could narrow her down to one single character. maybe, if i had to pick between the two, i would say she reminds me of teen comic!bucky barnes.

warren is his papa :) (or :( maybe idk)

cori's grief and anger and abrasiveness makes me feel like she's an agatha girl. but she's also got a lot of yelena in her.

agnes is matt. they are mirrors of each other.

devin is like tony stark if tony stark wanted to kill people a lot more than he canonically does.

ruth is a bit of peter parker kind of person, except way more shy.

cori and yelena:

this is a bit of a spoiler for what is to come, but yelena loves cori!! and cori loves her back! when yelena finds out that it's clint who's gotten custody over cori, she is not happy, and she wants cori for herself. which leaves cori with a dilemma that will be addressed in later chapters of totbl :)

rosie's middle name:

rosie's middle name is starling!! full name is rosie starling banks / dixon depending on where you are in the fic. the first mention of her middle name is at the beginning of the saviors arc and actually ties into the lineup, which—not to toot my own horn, but—i think was clever of me :)

writing question:

when i first started publishing future ghosts, i really didn't think of it as something many people would read, so it didn't feel like that big of a deal to publish it. so i may not be the best person to ask for this advice. but the good thing is that, as long as you're not using your full name, is pretty much anonymous! so you can take it down and edit it and put it back up, and if you someday really hate it and feel embarrassed, you can just create a new account and pretend it never existed.

if you're worried about people not liking your writing or not getting a lot of reads, i would say don't sweat it. it takes a while to build up readers, and the more you write and publish, the more readers you'll get. also, it's not likely that you're gonna get a lot of hate, and if you do, then fuck them because if they don't like it, then they should just write it themselves. fanfiction at its core is for fun, so don't worry about anything anyone else has to say about it.

in the wise words of dwayne hoover, "you do what you love, and fuck the rest"!!

agnes and devin (who desperately need a ship name):

devin gets agnes into all sorts of trouble. devin is a very bad example, and matt does not appreciate that very much. when agnes decides to use her better judgement and not intentionally involve herself in matt's vigilante escapades, devin only eggs her on and gives her advice. but!! devin also encourages agnes to stand up to her mom, which is a very good thing!

here are some more silly agnes and devin things:

devin is a firm believer in the sidewalk rule. she will always aggressively shove agnes on the inside of the sidewalk to she can protect her from any "threats" on the outside of the sidewalk (she mostly just does this to feel like she's a protector).

agnes sometimes drags devin to church with her, and devin can't stop herself from rolling her eyes every few minutes.

devin has a very foul mouth that matt does not approve of, and whenever devin curses in front of matt, agnes correct her. for example, if devin were to say, "fuck this." agnes would step in front of her and say, "she means 'screw this'. that's what she said." 

devin steals candy from the corner store for agnes, but when agnes asks where she's getting all this candy, devin tells her that her brother buys it for her.

when they're older and actually start dating™️, they find it very amusing to remind matt and frank of that fact, considering matt and frank are not so fond of each other.

and lastly, if agnes and devin were a song, they would be "fell in love with a girl" by the white stripes from devin's perspective and "girl" by sobs from agnes' perspective !!!

as per usual, thank you for all of the fantastic questions ziggy!! you are my god made up stardust and brilliance!!!

[nhaneh]

the whole question of whether viruses are or are not really "alive" is kind of interesting to me because viruses are kind of like software if you think about it?

Like a virus on its own is a fairly inert thing - it's a packet of RNA code inside a protein casing and doesn't really do anything on its own except float around until they contact a matching cell membrane whereupon the casing gets hooked up and the RNA injected. In software terms, RNA is kind of like a segment of free-floating biological machine code, while the casing is the encapsulating data structure that allows it to interface with things, like the MZ EXE format of the DOS/Windows world or the ELF format of Unix and its relatives. What effectively makes biological viruses work at all is the fact that cells tend to absorb the contents of anything that can bind to their surface and have minimal if any protections in place against processing foreign RNA code. In computer security terms, cells are extremely vulnerable to remote code execution, and the antiviral protections that the body has is primarily a question of either identifying and eliminating viral particles before they get linked up to a cell, or murdering any cell that looks infected.

Okay that's interesting but what does that have to do with whether or not viruses are alive you may ask, so let me pull this analogy together a little by asking the following: Where does software exist?

This might seem like a silly question at first, but it's actually not as simple as it might seem. Consider this post you're reading - where is it? Well, on the servers of tumblr dot com you may say, but you're not looking at the servers right now, are you. Okay well a local copy on the device you're reading this on too then - and sure, there is definitely such a copy, but you're not looking at that either, not directly at least: that data only exists in memory as electrical signals and charges on a few microchips are not something we can see either. No, what you're looking at is an image most likely rendered on a screen through a complex interplay of code and data, of both hardware and software operating together, and only from that full stack of interoperating elements does the post you're reading emerge in a form that you can read.

Or, to go back to the main topic: viruses are code - code which comes alive when introduced to a living cell, but lies inert within the virus itself. They live in the sense that they have functional biological machine code, if you will, but lack the active process with which to execute said code themselves. Like software needs some kind of computer to run, a virus needs a living cell to run - they are alive but only when inside a cell, on their own in isolation they are just inert clumps of protein that depend on being picked up and executed.

A virus is kind of the ultimate expression of life as an emergent property: no one single part of the virus itself is really alive, and yet when introduced to a susceptible cell, its code will interact with the processes of that cell and real, living behaviour emerges. The life of viruses is not contained anywhere within the virus itself, it is something that only exists in interaction with other things outside of itself.