#Mindspace back road

[kreativewritin444]

back to me/ r.c

authors note:  hiii my lovelies, how have y’all been??  :)) i have been super busy and honestly my mindspace for awhile was just not there lol, so i took my break. slowly have i realized on here y’all have gone through a following of my transition as a person and a writer. for i write from experience and truth even though everythings fiction...

 anywhore my new thing is star wars atm totally in awe with everything so this may or may not caught some ideas up in it....

 summary// you were dating rafe, the boy chosen to fall

warnings// abuse, mention of murder, rafe lol also this is toxic

 you were walking down the side of the road, the sadness filled within your heart. everything was lost, rafe was out of control. after dating for a year you’d think you know a person.

 till you found out the truth.

it first started with the drug abuse. watching his character slowly change into someone you barely knew; especially the fights between his family. yet when sarah and john b went missing at sea, things changed with everyone. 

 he was accused of murder, and you so blindly trusted him. thinking not rafe... not possible. he would do a lot but murder?

you were hung up with rafe through it all, sometimes he did feel sad. most of the time he acted like she didn’t exist or that he cared, until she and john b came back. 

 that’s when everything slowly began to change for the worse. he said he was stepping up, going to be a bigger man. some rant about his family status being more serious. sarah gets back and things slowly start to be revealed. 

after one night, you escaped out the room leaving behind a passed out rafe. sarah met you face to face, before she pulls you in her room. her desperate plea to her case; you finally opening up about your side of things.

 now supposedly rafe shot sarah, is in on stealing the gold and even has gone off the fucking walls. this led you into a three day depression room sinkhole.

 until now where you are walking down the streets, tears streaming down your cheeks. this was a walk to clear your mind, after all you have been hiding from. stupid idea. the sun set so now it was street lights leading your way.

 a car passes by and you ignore it, wiping your tears. not paying attention your foot slips, body slipping forward. the feeling of your ankle twist makes your hiss, as your hands and knees were scraped up.

 “fuckin’ great.” you mumble to yourself, tired of this day. a heavy sigh escapes your lips as you push yourself up, noticing the blood along your knee. your back pocket starts vibrating.

 pulling out your phone, trying to avoid the harsh feeling along your palm. rafe cameron’s caller id appears across the screen. hesitating as you bite your lip, you wanted to hit the red button. you wanted to decline it.

 “hello?” your voice wasn’t exactly happy but it wasn’t just with him. your knee was bleeding while only your left hand really held scrapes. your ankle was sore but you knew not broken. as you didn’t hear a response, you focus in hearing rafe’s tense breathing over the phone.

 “where are you? what’s wrong?” his questions make you roll your eyes. “i am no where, and nothing i-i am fine.” you hate the way he knows you, even after all this shit. it hurt because you were still in love with someone who has headed down a path extremely dangerous.

 he scoffs, “tell me where you are, i’ll come get you.” you shake your head even though he couldn’t see that. “no! i mean no rafe, not right now. i need, i need-”

his voice cuts me off, sounding desperate almost. “don’t do that shit to me y/n, don’t tell me you need space.” 

your lips tremble, “rafe i don’t know what to do.” the confession was raw, pure, innocent. 

 you truly were defeated by your feelings and the fact of things. he went quiet for a moment before he lowers his voice. “let us talk, please?” he pauses for a moment.

“ let me come get you, i know you y/n. something has happened.” you almost wanted to laugh. “nothing has happened beside everything else that’s so obvious.” your voice cracks softly towards the end, making you want to curse yourself.

 “y/n, tell me where you are.”

 “i-” a defeated sigh escapes you, glancing around you notice a street sign. “i am on lotus street, i-i was walking and i tripped and fell.”

 you swore you heard him mumble something, “okay. i’m on the way. call me if anything happens.”

 you hang up, hobbling to sit along side the road. choosing some bricks to sit on. you didn’t even have a bag, but you see a nice big leaf on a tree nearby. getting up once more, heading over to it. you pull off a few leaves, the branch sways as you walk away.

 sitting back down, you sniffle softly as you wipe the blood trailing down your leg. biting your lip as you wipe around your knee as well.

 less than ten minutes, the familiar truck lights are seen coming down. you sit up straighter, lifting your hand up to block some of the light. he pulls up beside you before parking it on the side of the rode.

 he gets out rushing around the vehicle. you stand up quickly, nose contorting in pain, forgetting about your ankle in the moment. he steps closer but your hand flies up instinctively. he stops in his tracks, eyes meeting yours with a wild look.

 “y/n.”

 you shake your head at him, “you’ve lied to me rafe!” everything has been building up and now seeing him.

 “who told you that? sarah?” he tilts his head and you stare at him in pure awe. his reaction was just pure dumb and it angers you. “wh-what? it’s not about that rafe. you lied! you did things... you are changing.”

 your eyes trail on how his shirt was damp and he had a bruise near his jaw. “those fuckin’ pogues are turning you against me! bet they’re telling you all sorts of lies, huh?”

 “i don’t know who you are anymore rafe!” you wince as you step back.” th-the things you’ve done... the things you plan to do.” you sob out, and he takes in your appearance. how your fall was, how you were in pain. emotionally and physically.

 “just get in the truck y/n. we can talk about this somewhere else.” he tries to persuade you, but your head shakes for a moment. without a beat your hand clutches your chest, as if it would give some relief. to the weight that felt like it was crushing you inside out. as you were sure your heart was breaking.

 he wasn’t the person you knew anymore.

”oh my god, rafe. you almost killed your fuckin’ sister, you were accused of murdering pet-” he rushes forward pointing at you. his one hand wraps around your biceps, jerking you slightly.

 “don’t you ever say that shit again.” his finger now digging in your cheek, makes you scared. shoving his chest, watching him stumble back surprised for a moment.

 your chest heaves up and down, moving away from the bricks you were once sitting on. staring him fully on as tears blur your vision.

 “you could come back!” your voice cracks as you plea with him. “you can come back, come back with me.” please choose this, please choose to do things different.

 he shakes his head, “you know i can’t do that.” 

 your heart sinks, lips trembling. “why is that, rafe?” please don’t say it. you plead with yourself even though your stomach felt sick.

 “we got the gold, i can’t- i gotta’ go with my dad!” he shakes and you stare at him in horror. the final realization hitting, everything made your mind swirl.

 “rafe...” you look at him and tears stream down your face. you hated this. you hated him. you hated yourself. for not being able to help but want his embrace to comfort you in this.

 “you can do right, we can do right. we can figure this all out okay?” you try to ease on him, but his eyes glare into yours.

 “we could figure this all out, rafe. you can come back to me, before all this shit. be the old us? right?” he looks away from you, making your heart drop. “right rafe? you love me right? we can do right, give the gold back. get away from here!”

 now his attention is back to you. “did sarah or the pogues put you up to this?” he almost laughs and you shake your head desperately. “no! rafe i love you!”

you step closer to him, slowly due to your ankle. “rafe, this is insane. it’s gone too far with barry before a-and this now?”

 he shakes his head, “do you trust me y/n?” you wanted desperately to say yes. to forget everything, run away from the problems but you hesitated.

 his eyes go cold, “let me take you back home?” he makes it a question but it was more of a demand. you felt defeated, stranded in a forest with no compass.

 “wait.” you freeze hesitant of it all. coming more to your senses.

 he stops at the sound of your voice, turning to face you. “people who get in your way...” you trail off almost hesitant to say it. “they don’t end up well.”

 his head cocks to the side, “what do you mean by that y/n? you think i would hurt you?”

 “you didn’t say you loved me back.” the truth made you step back from him.  “i’m going to call someone else to get me, rafe.”

 “i love you, y/n. don’t you see? the goal involves you, i’ll always protect you!” he steps closer and you shake your head. your throat hurt from keeping the tears at bay, but as he gets the look of realization. the tears slide down your cheek.

“i don’t think i can trust you anymore rafe. you are going down a path that i-i don’t think i can follow.” your hand trembles as he glowers at you. “y/n... don’t turn away from me too.”

 your hands shakes as it comes up to your face for a moment, covering your mouth of the sob that escapes. the emotion in both your eyes was readable, from anyones point of view.

 “i love you rafe... please.” the desperate plea from your lips. you looking stupid begging for an unchangeable man, too well change.

 your phone lights up with sarahs name popping up, catching rafe’s attention. “liar!” he moves in a haste, snatching the phone. “no wait r-”

 he tosses it off into the grass somewhere, before snatching you up. he shoves you against the truck, the truck was off. the street light was farther down and it was dark. you two were in the dark.

 his hands wrap around your throat, your hands clawing at his hands. “r-afe.” you manage to choke out, as you start seeing spots. eyes rolling back he drops you backing up.

 you start coughing heavily, as the air starts to fill your lungs again. “oh my god.” it barely registers as you grip your throat desperately, as if it could ease the pain. “y/n,y/n... i am so sorry.”

 as you look back up at him, the view of the fading light barely shows his face. yet you made out the look on his. he didn’t look exactly sorry. he just didn’t look like the rafe you knew at all.

 “yo-you just...” it hurt to speak, but what you didn’t notice was when you fell. you hit your head, leaving your forehead dripping blood down your right cheeks. your hands touch the spot, making you wince as your eyes try to focus.

 the sight of your fingertips covered in blood makes your stomach churn. feeling lightheaded and unable to catch your breathe. 

 you desperately call out, “rafe...” he stares down at the wound in need of attention. one he caused in rage. “i’m scared.”

 spots fill your vision and everything starts to fade. the last thing you felt was rafe scooping you up.

[transtanium]

Dreamwalker's Drive

The dreamwalker hunches down, shaking her tired head as her '62 Continental barrels down the barren highway, drifting between sharp-edged reality and the hazy fade of mindspace, uncertain sunset gleaming off unpolished paint, Riviera Turquoise Metallic 12745 reflecting doubt.

The engine rattles, as tired as the driver, both fleeing across the empty landscape like some kind of prey animal, the Lincoln moving like a refrigerator gifted with the very concept of fear, the bright-eyed dreamwalker's scuffed dress shoe sinking on the pedal.

Faster, faster.

Her horns ache, the two tapered spires protruding-- like tiny radio towers-- from her scalp, the same colour as her deep-blue skin, but softly pulsing orange, the same orange as the piercing eyes that scan the rearview mirrors for predators, hunters, the goons trying to stop her.

Dreamwalking this much, driving in and out of mindscapes and phases at this speed, it's taking a toll on her, but it's the only way to avoid detection.

She tugs at her pressed shirt collar, wishes the A/C worked. Her purple tie is somewhere in the backseat, twisted up like a dead snake.

She can feel it before it happens, as the Lincoln slips out of someone's dream and onto the winding ribbon of a desert interstate, she's made a mistake.

The Mercedes behind her jolts, the driver recognizing his quarry, jamming on the pedal, German V8 screaming as he takes chase.

The goons whoop and holler, monstrous forms leaning out the windows, guns raised as the 300SEL rams into her, pockmarking an already-dented bumper, fucking with her steering as she's already fumbling for something in the glovebox.

Goddammit, fuck, it has to be in there somewhere.

The Lincoln is ventilated courtesy of Thompson and Wesson, bad guy's ballistic punching dozens of damnable decisive dots into the paintwork, the rear window exploding in a spray of gleaming glass shrapnel, covering the bug-out bag strapped into the back and the long-forgotten tie.

The dreamwalker, Bright-Eyes, scowls, turns around with something the vague shape of a pistol in one hand, hard to percieve, difficult to actually see, and yet putting holes in the Merc just the same.

Not enough to stop the assault, the heavy German sedan trying to muscle her off the road and into a cactus-lined ditch, but enough to make those fuckers keep their heads down.

She knows how to get away, or, hopefully get away, but she hasn't used it yet. It's... Untested, unverified, something a crackpot friend of hers welded up one evening while the two were high out of their skulls on expensive weed and mad scientist's dreams, both stolen.

The dreamwalker eyes the switch on the dash, a small pull-lever akin to a mechanical choke, only labelled "GO BABY GO" in shitty pink label-maker tape.

She's brought back to the present by the Lincoln bouncing off a guardrail, a doll with a tommygun cackling as it jams a new drum into the implement of war, the discarded empty clattering onto the highway, already forgotten.

With nothing else to do, she holds her breath and pulls the switch, a heavy mechanical TCHUNK issuing out from her car's long hood.

Within, a mechanism seals, a belt starts spinning and whirs to life with a song like an angry turbine engine as air starts to be forced into a normally self-aspirating manifold. Not just air, but dreams, the supercharger manifold sucking in pure egregoric ichor out of the atmosphere, Unreal-forged tubes mixing it with the primal fire gasoline, sending the long limping Lincoln rocketing into mindspace, the highway spiralling and splitting and spinning, the Mercedes falling away and disappearing as she runs through the fields of sleeping posthumans' minds like a bullet through an unlucky contractor's brain, her vigour renewed as that sweet sweet stuff runs through the ventilation ducts and into her lungs. She disappears into it all, letting it carry her where she needs to go, trusting the road, trusting the mind.

[our-inspire-verse]

Weird introject/pseudomemories vent below

Inthrum: Im kinda in like this. Paralysis. Sorta. Im just so, so sad and grief ridden. I am missing my last life, im missing who i was back then, and most of all I'm really missing the people i knew. The people. Dan, hes sorta here. And Cadance. A few others. But Alder. That "sorta" hurts a lot. It hurts way more than i ever EVER would have expected it to.

Is it my this life parental issues, the reminders of losing him last life, or the jarring emptiness that comes with a fragment headmate that is making me fall apart? Is this just the straw on my back? Am i just experiencing the normal weight of emotions one would experience facing this sort of thing? Or am i mentally ill? Delusional? Focused on the wrong things? Maladaptive daydreaming is in our history... particularly mine would make sense. Why couldnt sherl front earlier? Wouldnt he be better for up front?

Lol. I dont know. I feel like mentally i know the answer to all this. That its all okay. Like, that maybe Alder's going to eventually figure out his memories and feel okay and attached enough to be fully formed in this life. That we could have a real conversation outside of music, or signs, or memories. Or that weird amalgamation of energy levitating in mindspace that looks like him. Feels like half of him. Doesnt feel all the way alive. Maybe he isnt, maybe he hasn't been.

Why didn't he cure his lycanthropy? It's not his fault, i hold no resentment, and i understand in part. But it made his genetics hard to treat in the time we had. All the raging he'd done. All the work, and all the unknowing time. It passed. And so did he and i had to experience that regardless of anything before and afterwards. I had to live that.

And now, i was doing the math today. Alder said he was 33 when i came to him, and the first birthday i actually understood and celebrated with him was 35. He was 67 when he passed. Did i really only get like, 32 years with him? Only. We dont even onow what 32 feels like in this life yet. Flip the numbers. 23. Still 9 years to go. In 9 years ill be the age i was then, in that stupid hospital room with a view. Thata not exactly how he wanted to go, but better than a facility that gave us a .09% survival rate. I would have had him die up there in my distress, but he asked to be taken off high tech support so he could be on his own planet at the time it happened.

And i remember fighting about it. I didn't make it easy, and bless Alder he talked me down. A lot. And then he wasn't there to soothe me. He told me he was never sorry for dying, he didn't want to leave me wondering later in life if i should be guilty for making him feel like that.

He said thank you for being strong, so we can find each other in the afterlife. Strong energies gravitate to one another, and he said he felt stronger than ever with me. That man really loved me, he did. He showed it and he proved it and he did. Again and again, and he still does. I miss him. And I've never seen his face.

But right now, every day for the past just about week, I've been overwhelmed with memories of this person. This guy. Random guy. Could have been anyone. I remember my first revealed memory that he was a person the christmas lights in the truck! And then the next memory i got, when he met me. When he saved me. And then he saved me. And then he saved me again. Again. Again. Again.

He showed me how to be after i didnt get that chance. When i was cast out by the beings who birthed me. Not family. Never was. Just the group of strangers who used me and cast me out. Abandoned on the side of the road. He gave me the chance. Grabbed my hand firmly and gave it to me. Pushed it into my chest.

He walked me step by step by step into the light and he showed me how to feel the grass under my shoes and breathe the air. All of it literally and metaphorically. He was there. Theres pieces of him here, but such is the way of finding paradise, then watching it go away to move on for the next life, one of pain and nightmare. You have to carry these memories into places no one will bring you lessons. I have to remember him to survive. And i dont know how to do that.

[theheadquatersofficespace]

Dwaraka One

Dwaraka Group is a prominent name in the Indian business landscape, boasting an impressive 43-year legacy. With its headquarters in Hyderabad, the group has cultivated a prestigious reputation across multiple industries, specializing in Roads & Infrastructure and Office Space Construction & Leasing. Dwaraka’s Construction & Leasing division has revolutionized the way businesses work by offering state-of-the-art workspaces with flexible lease terms.

Our unique concept of flexi-offices allows businesses to adapt their spaces during the lease period, whether it involves expansion to accommodate growth or optimization by eliminating excess space. Our flexible lease terms also facilitate relocation to different buildings within our portfolio, offering increased convenience and versatility.

We’re currently operating in 14 buildings along with our affiliate, The Headquarters, providing solutions in four formats: Managed Office Spaces, Fully Furnished Offices, Co-working Spaces, and Hourly/Daily rentals of Conference Rooms and Event Spaces. Strategically located near public transit terminals, our offices ensure a seamless and efficient commute to work.

Whether you’re a startup or an established company, Dwaraka Group has the ideal office solution to meet your needs.

Features / Amenities Dwaraka One is located in the heart of Hitech city adjacent Raheja Mindspace and Westin.

Distance from:

Metro: 700 Meters, Bus: 200 Meters, Food: 100 Meters

100 % Power back up (DG) 24*7 Access Adequate Bike & Car Parking Facility Bore and Manjeera water facility CC TV Surveillance in common areas Customized Interiors Fully Furnished / Plug & Play office

Address: Dwaraka One, Plot no. 6 & 7, Survey no. 85 Madhapur Near Raheja Mindspace, Hyderabad, Telangana 500081

[coworkingspacesblog]

Dwaraka Group is a prominent name in the Indian business landscape, boasting an impressive 43-year legacy.

Headquarters in Hyderabad, the group has cultivated a prestigious reputation across multiple industries, specializing in Roads & Infrastructure and Office Space Construction & Leasing. Dwaraka’s Construction & Leasing division has revolutionized the way businesses work by offering state-of-the-art workspaces with flexible lease terms.

Our unique concept of flexi-offices allows businesses to adapt their spaces during the lease period, whether it involves expansion to accommodate growth or optimization by eliminating excess space. Our flexible lease terms also facilitate relocation to different buildings within our portfolio, offering increased convenience and versatility.

We’re currently operating in 14 buildings along with our affiliate, The Headquarters, providing solutions in four formats: Managed Office Spaces, Fully Furnished Offices, Co-working Spaces, and Hourly/Daily rentals of Conference Rooms and Event Spaces. Strategically located near public transit terminals, our offices ensure a seamless and efficient commute to work.

Website : https://www.dwarakagroup.com/

Features / Amenities:

Dwaraka One is located in the heart of Hitech city adjacent Raheja Mindspace and Westin.

Distance from:

Metro: 700 Meters, Bus: 200 Meters, Food: 100 Meters

100 % Power back up (DG) 24*7 Access Adequate Bike & Car Parking Facility Bore and Manjeera water facility CC TV Surveillance in common areas Customized Interiors Fully Furnished / Plug & Play office

Website : https://www.dwarakagroup.com/property/dwaraka-one/

[swetasamota]

Hello Runners Inorbit Mall is hosting its very first Run in open parking and run will happen on Mindspace back road. Inorbit Malad Run 2023 is on 9th April and flag off will happen at 5.45 am for 10k and 6.30 am for 5k. This. Run is AIMS certified. Register on https://bit.ly/InorbitMaladRun by using FIT10 code for 10% OFF. #run #runnergirl #mumbairunners #malad #runnerspace #inorbitmall #inorbitmalad #running #swetasamota (at India) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqiFmjYrf2n/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[interpreterslinguistics]

Conversations with Leviathan #3, Silken Tofu 21/2/23

He's inviting me back to the mindspace in order to talk about something serious - or more so the word in my mind is something "lingering" with the implications of how incense smoke sticks to things. To glass.

I see him near my computer in my room, and the scene is visibly darker and more serious than usual; not as dangerous as a predator hunting prey but as ominous as walking alone down a country road at the middle of the night with the blackened, cloud-covered, churning nightsky overhead when suddenly the streetlights turn off. Not inherently dangerous, just immense, and black. 

He's hunched over something, long pitch-black hair dripping like a blackened peacock's trail. In and through the dark are thick black tendrils, thicker at points than his body it seems, curling outwards like ink through water and hovering over whatever it is he's concerned with. It's a book, it seems, leather bound in a way I can't describe beyond the cover being strikingly and purposefully symmetrical. There's an almost mechanical detachment from it in that way. 

"I need you to get the implications of this over crystal clear, do you understand?" His voice is deep like it's smeared through time. I'll do my best. 

He points with one long, clawed finger to the window: outside are baying dogs, or more so they push and pull and seem to bark silently like souls in a river moving like the tides, barely holding their dog shape as they claw and reach - their expressions are tinted mad, more hysteric than angry, though that may just be the presumptions of a human brain friend to real dogs. I don't know what these are. They circle the house though and I'm led back through a wire-like line down through this scene, across my bed and on to the floor, to his feet where it blends and dissolves into the shadows under his black leather shoes. The same shadow from which these huge, engulfing tentacles are prying forth like elongated spiders' legs.

He tells me something unrelated and therefore not needed to be recorded in order to test our connection, to see if I'm listening that is. I am.

Back to the book in his hand. A small peek into what's written - on the physical plane I feel my back, which is directly facing where he's showing me he is in the vision, cold and wet as if exposed to the night rain - and its contents are strangely compartmentalised, it's not symmetrical but repeated like lines on a blackboard, the impression of a script and language I'm unfamiliar with.

On the horizon beyond the dogs is a viscerally fear-invoking, burning red, not that of sunrise but that of war's tangibility: burning cities, fire lighting, bombs dropping. And it directly echoes a scene he keeps showing me as vital and integral to his divinity: the End of the World, the sky illuminated red on the horizon as the coding of God's Creation breaks down and sings its final moments to the detuning of the Sun's pull... And I see, though we look in this vision at what seems to be incoming war, the march forward of the tangibility and inevitability of the sacrosanct civilisation ruined as neighbours and family alike are impersonally torn limb from limb, chemical dissolution in the name of whatever cause they march in on, I see him smile, resting on the cluttered windowsill. Or it would be cluttered, it's not? This is the Astral, isn't it? He nods. Well, the Astral is not submerged in war - he replies an ominous "Yet." and I can't tell if he's joking or not. It is really the Astral he's leaning in, several hours behind: it's still responding to him in a shower of brilliant impersonal blue sky. But regardless mentally he overlays his position and shows this oncoming march, and he is not afraid.

"Because whatever happens," he's suspended in water like an alligator, but with shadowed scaly body and gleaming eyes, implying the water is some sort of cushion to fire and explosives "I will remain, won't I."

I guess you will, my Lord. I prompt, subtly at least, to see what it is that he's brought me here to communicate. 

"Here, I'll show you." He beckons me in with the excitement of a dad who had found a cool bug. In the book is a tonne of blank pages, specifically both before and after, though the fact that the writing doesn't start at the beginning implies very clearly that there once was writing on all the pages before this one, it just has been utterly, tracelessly, erased.

In the book, I've known since the beginning-- "oh, don't spoil it -" are names. And they're strange, they all look the same but they are not written. In fact they're more so tangible, 2D, shorthand versions of bodies - hilariously the strange compartmentalisation and neatness seems to echo dug-outgraves. But these are living bodies.

He licks a finger and uses it to smear spit on to the paper, which fades like invisible ink into the form of another one of these boxes - oh! I know... They're not boxes. I've been seeing something akin to this, with these sorts of brackets and nothing inside them:

[                 ] [          ]      [                 ] [          ] 

[                 ] [          ]      [                 ] [          ] 

[                 ] [          ]      [                 ] [          ] 

[                 ] [          ]      [                 ] [          ] 

And I think what I'm actually seeing - he agrees with his energy, standing up and folding the book into his robes - is actually redactions of what's written which is an ongoing series of people's true names. These are... Oh. The severity is really sinking in now. Because this is, as I've known from the beginning... He nods. Is -

"A book of the dead." There's something about his smile; usually it is so true and so real, and so genuine and soft, but it's almost as if he's wearing his human face as a theatre mask. There's something behind all of it, a clockwork churning of black ink and black viscera, living void; his face becomes under the fake face a huge and deep tunnel of walls wet with black goo, like coagulating blood, leading to a point I can't even begin to see. Those tentacles behind his body spiral so slowly like the curled arms of a pinwheel, his form revealed to be as illusory and as arbitrary as the stone of a statue. The immensity... 

The blackened, cloud-covered sky feels immense until the clouds clear, and the starry sky feels immense until the mind connects with the fact that those stars, and thus the night sky, are inutterably, incomprehensibly, spatially removed from any sort of glimpse of locality... And yet even they and we, the Pale Blue Dot, are confined and neighbourly-close in the arms of the Void Sky itself. Existence expansive and encompassing.

On the physical plane possessing me he pulls two cards from one of my decks, a deck that he has writen on the backs of each card, giving two cards that say Doorway and Portal respectively. Another card from another deck shows a monarch on a throne with a sword built for unspeakable violence below the clouds clearing to the light of the Moon in the Void Sky, with the energetic implication that she cradles in her hand a huge dog...

"Our time is coming, boy." 'Boy' he speaks to me as if affectionately but seriously addressing one of his hounds. The screams of war flare like the fire on the horizon, the sounds of explosions and whatnot distant, but nearing. It approaches, the town we live in begins to be swallowed in war - and suddenly that immensity is like nothing but a child's imaginary game with toys as the entire scene distorts and is swallowed in huge, galaxy-spanning ripples across spacetime itself, by the immensity of the Black Hole in a dimension beyond the 3rd. 3-dimensional space becomes nothing under the weight of the Black Hole.

"All games, all wars, all play fights on the horizon nothing but children scared of feeling insignificant, hm? Soon the dogs will feast," he implies with energy that the dogs clawing at the window earlier were a manifestation of the Black Hole, "and all will come back to rest."

The book he once held lies in the depths of an unseen forest, the wind flicking through pages and lighting the embers that are currently burning through it; he appears in the far background like an apparition on a video tape blurred and alien, tendrils spiralling outwards though in a direction inverted to before, tearing through like a slowed down - prolonged, numbingly - version of the visuals that come with shutting off an old TV. I look over on the physical plane to see the hat I have that reminds me of his and get the feeling that his energy signature is... Everywhere. He is in every shadow, dripping from every place that the light can't touch. Every ounce of light wasting watts after watts of power streaming into existence attempting to drive something unspeakable - him - back, and yet he is in every single shadow. And when the light, exhausted by its own excessive energy use in fear of him emerging, begins to dim, he effortlessly flows back. As the rivers dry only to fill the clouds, as the clouds fall only to fill the rivers, immensity can never be drained.

One more card physically he gives me: A head sliced in two from which dark tentacles and blood drip, and coil around, and - 

My Lord, what is it that you do with that book? "Everywhere the light touches it leaves a signature, doesn't it?" Another card: A person attempts to hold two swords by their blades bleeding down on to them, pierced by six more. He chuckles, but there's an emotional tiredness to it, and the softness and gentleness returns. I see him fix his robes shut and they seem so normal, almost real though they still skirt reality and substance at least they try and front it. "No more. Steak for dinner. Thanks." The song we were listening to ends. 

[burtonbabygirlguster]

i havnt watched volume two yet, so idk if they defeat vecna or not- but anyway

i really honestly just hope jonathan gets vecna-ed. and not because i hate him- it’s because i absolutely fucking love him. and even though he has BUCKETS AND BUCKETS of trauma, and is genuinely such a sad character- he’s still underrated. i could go ON AND ON about why he’s underrated, all of his experiences, and so on so forth.

and so i just really really hope he gets vecna-ed. and then everyone realizes, oh shit. we don’t know his favorite song. nancy doesn’t know it, even joyce doesn’t know it. will does, obviously, assuming it’s “should i stay or should i go” or whatever song it is- and maybe for some extra stuff, that’s not his favorite song anymore, and only argyle knows it because nobody EXCEPT argyle actualy checks on him- and when he’s in vecnas…mindspace, it’s so horrible- it’s flashbacks and general scenes of things like

wills body

will getting caught by whatever was in the shed (whether it be demo or vecna)

steve comparing him to his father and saying his family are screwups

all the abusive shit with loonie

and a whole fucking lot more.

then will and joyce blaming him for the night will disappeared, loonie saying he was just like him, maybe the dead rabbit he killed and cried over, everything.

when he argued with joyce on the road

and so when he comes back it’s all just too much and he just really needs to fucking cry into someone’s arms, and let me tell you, it’s not nancy, it’s argyle holding and comforting him. and then everyone is like holy shit, WOW and more angst and stuff

because yeah. i want will to get vecna-ed for byler angst, but i would prefer jonathan angst over that 100x, as long as he doesn’t ACTUALY die

[adhdeancas]

Dean gets screened for ADHD

“I don’t really buy into the whole ‘shrink’ thing,” he blurted out as soon as he got in the door. The woman in the white coat raised an eyebrow at him, not unkindly. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a shrink, then.”

Dean floundered at that. He nodded and sat awkwardly in the chair across from the psychiatrist, perched on the edge, just in case. His fingertips bounced nervously against his leg. “Okay, yeah, sure, but- you know, the whole-” another indiscriminate arm wave, another soft smile. 

“Mental health?”

“My brother thought I should come.” he confirmed, sighing and resigning himself to his fate finally. He settled back further into the chair. “Well and my- my buddy.” he looked down, his heartbeat picking up a little. 

“I am going to have to ask you some questions, though.”

“Hm? Uh, yeah, go ahead, whatever you gotta do.”

Dr. Pearson took out her clipboard, an action which stopped Dean in his tracks. He was starting to feel a little boxed in. “So, first off, what are you here for? I mean, besides placating your brother.”

Dean grinned at her, the knot in his chest loosening a little. “Yeah, uh… so my brother and my… friend, they think I’ve got ADHD”

“Do you think you have ADHD?”

Dean blinked at her. “I- I dunno, I mean, I’m a little old for that, ain’t I?”

The doctor shrugged. “ADHD doesn’t have an age limit. And you’re never too old to improve your life.”

Dean held his hands up in defense. He didn’t want her to think he was just flat out dismissing it, but… “Don’t get me wrong, I’m fucked up in a thousand different ways, but for once… my life kinda feels… good. I got a good thing going. Don’t know how much I wanna change.” It felt like way too much to mess with, what if he messed it up? 

The psychiatrist nodded, interested. “Tell me about that. Your life now. It’s a recent change?”

Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Me and my family, we got past some pretty big stuff not too long ago, and uh… I got into a relationship, a good one,” he cleared his throat and wiped his palms off on his pants. “I moved and everything, and I kind of have a kid. And I have a job, a real job, for the first time in my goddamn life.” He looked up and beamed, so proud of his bar. His bar. He swore, everytime he talked about his life it sounded like a fever dream. 

The psychiatrist returned his smile, which made him feel like a third grader. “Those sound like some pretty big changes. Congratulations. And you said you had different circumstances before? Would you characterize any of your past life events as traumatic?”

Dean laughed, actually cackled then. “Uh, all of them?” From the patronizing smile the doc was wearing, he guessed she didn’t believe him. “I- I was a soldier, kinda. For a while. Seen a lot of bad shit.” The doctor nodded; she started scribbling something down on her paperwork. “I’m not, like, traumatized or anything, though.”

A genuine smile pulled at Dr. Pearson’s lips as she wrote, and Dean leaned forward, eager to see what kinda joke she thought he was pitching. “You know, in all my years of being a psychiatrist, almost no one has wanted to admit they have trauma.” She looked at him and shrugged. “Most people, at least, most people who come to see me, have trauma.”

Dean crossed his arms, knowing it made him look cartoonishly uncomfortable and not being able to stop himself anyway. “Okay, can we move past this part of the- whatever? Exam?”

She nodded, surprising Dean. “We can do the ADHD screening now.”

“What, so all the rest of that was for shits and giggles?”

“Background.” She was unfazed. “Okay, now I’m going to ask you some questions about your attention and work habits and how your day to day functions, they’re called executive dysfunctions, how they work and how they present in your mind. It’s going to be a lot of questions. You don’t have to worry about any right answers, there aren’t any. And if you want to expand more on an answer, please feel free. All information helps me get a more accurate picture of your mindspace.”

Dean blinked. Once. Twice. He didn’t mean to zone out, he really didn’t, but his brain just kinda glazed over the words, like they went in one ear and out the other without translating into English. The doctor waited patiently, and he nodded his go-ahead, hoping it was the right answer. “Yeah, sure.”

She cleared her throat and flipped the page on her clipboard, looking down at a list of questions she apparently had. There were a lot of questions, some of them confused Dean, and he had to think about them a lot. He’d never thought about thinking so much in his life. His brain just worked, what the hell was he supposed to say about it? 

“Are you organized?”

“Yeah, totally. Except when, y’know, if I’m going through a rough few days, then… nobody wants to do laundry when they feel like shit.”

“So your ability to maintain your cleanliness relies on your mental state?”

“Yeah, doesn’t everyone’s?”

“So, what goes through your mind if you’re having a rough day, or week, and you see laundry on the floor. Or dishes in the sink. What do you think, what do you do?”

“Well, I think I should clean it up, obviously.”

“And you do?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “It’s a lot of work.” He shakes his head. “No it’s not, I know that stuff would take me like three minutes but… I gotta get up first.”

“Do you find it hard to concentrate on work?”

“Yeah. I mean, sometimes. Research, fuck yeah. I swear to- I swear, I can’t read more than three pages before I-” He waved a hand in front of his eyes. She seemed to get it. “But if it’s like- cars, then I can work for hours and just - zone the fuck out.”

“What about watching tv? Can you sit on the couch and relax?”

“Yeah!” Dean started confidently, but then wavered. “Well, unless, I’ve like- I dunno, sometimes I just need to do something with my hands, y’know? Or some days, my car is my couch. All I need is my Baby, the open road, some music… But I can watch a good marathon, don’t get me wrong. One time I watched John Wayne’s entire life’s work in one sitting.”

“Do you lose things often?”

“All the fucking time. It’s why I try to be organized. My keys, my guns, my wallet, I know where that stuff is, I always put it in the same place.”

“Like a cubby or a bedside table?”

“Uh…” He scratched his head. Maybe he was batshit. Every answer he said made him sound crazier and crazier. “No. So, I put my keys on this one shelf of the bar while I’m there, my hus- Cas got this cutesy little key holder from a garage sale, so that’s where I keep ‘em at home. Wallet on this one ledge in the kitchen, and I’ve got a gun in basically every room.” He was hoping she wouldn’t fixate on the gun thing. Luckily, she didn’t. 

“But other than those things, you lose?”

“Yeah. I- I found this one ring I lost years ago in my trunk a few months ago, and I’ve been wearing it every day. But I took it off because-” He coughed. He took it off because he and Cas were fucking on their living room couch while Jack was with Sam for the weekend and he hadn’t wanted any… roughness to his fingers. “I took it off and set it down, and I knew where I set it down, right? But then I was afraid of losing it again, so I didn’t look for it, even though I know I knew where it was. So like four days later I finally look for it, and it’s not there.” He sighed heavily, and looked up just in time to see Dr. Pearson looking at him like he was a mummy who’d come back to life and started talking about the intricacies of hieroglyphics. Okay, so he had ADHD, apparently. That was ADHD. 

Dean left with a prescription for a when-needed stimulant and a weirdly light feeling in his chest. It took him five weeks to find his ring, right where Cas had put it in his bathroom drawer. He had laughed at Dean when he yelled at him, which brought Dean back down to a self-deprecating laugh. Later, Dean forwarded him an article about ADHD and object impermanence, and Cas started immediately giving Dean things he found if he thought he’d lost them. Which. Was A Solution.

[shewhospeakswiththunder]

Perhaps you’re feeling bored at home or, if considered an “essential” worker like me, you need a little fun and stress relief. Here is my masterpost of fic recs from my two years of reading so far. Maybe you’ll find something new, or reconnect with an old favorite. Either way--

Enjoy! 😷💕

Reylo Fics that Deserve All the Love

Near Kinsman by englishable

Englishable is just one of the best writers I’ve encountered in fandom. This historical western mail order bride AU is top notch quality.

The Masochism of Self-Defence by greyorchids

The Reylo dynamic in this Boston PD AU is steamy, but also heartfelt. 

So Much Thin Glass by walkingsaladshooter

Never knew I loved modern day Gothic AUs until I ran across this one.

Heaven Forbid by DarkKnightDarkSide

I was stunned by the author’s creativity in this Priestlo fic. So smutty. So... inventive 😉🔥

Sonder by deathbyhumidity

Two strangers passing each other by on the train. Soft, dreamlike, somber, poignant. Modern AU.

And Still I Would Remember by Inmyownidiom

A Victorian era AU of two souls that parted and come crashing back together.

So, You've Decided to Glamour a Human Girl. by selunchen

Faeries AU! Ben, a fae, and Rey, a human. Shenanigans ensue.

Live Long, and Prosper by SaintHeretical

For the Reylo Trekkies. Hell, even if you don't do Star Trek, read this. PHENOMENAL.

Mr. Solo & Miss Wellfound by LinearA

“Regency/Victorian AU, Ben sees Rey's stockinged ankle by accident.”

Diyari by Nervoustouch

Modern archeologists AU. Snarky banter with dashes of Indiana Jones, The Mummy, and Sahara vibes.

Drawn to the light of your burning sorrows by Kyriadamorte

The Mothlo AU you didn’t know you needed. Both gritty and soft.

Crown Glass by RebelRebel

Fantasy AU, with lots of beautiful imagery and engaging character dynamics.

Kohelet 3:16 (Call Me A Cab) by LinearA

NYC Jewish Leia and Ben. Skillfully layered plot, nuanced characterization. Smut is HOT.

By the Shores of Varykino Lake by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)

Unhealthy dynamics, definitely read the tags. “There’s a lot of fucked-up-ness”, in the author’s own words. But it’s good writing. Fair warning.

Let Me Put My Darkness In You by ArdeaJestin

Canonverse. Hux is an insufferable, pompous ass and Kylo Ren writes terrible, melodramatic poetry.

Wintertide by Zabeta

Whimsical and primitive in turn, this lives up to the style of a true fairytale AU.

The Forty Thieves by PoetHrotsvitha

Peaky Blinders/Gangsters AU. Rey starts as Ben’s bartender and ends up as so much more.

I Said to My Soul, Be Still by LinearA

Dark!Rey takes her man. 🥵🔥💕

Hux's Rousing Pep Talks by Riels_shorts

This fic is hysterical. It’s not Reylo, and I don’t care. My list, my rules.

It's All I Can Do To Leave You Alone by TazWren

Office AU. Silly, spunky, with a bashful Ben. 

Sip the Honey Sweet by dietplainlite

Anne of Green Gables-esque/Edwardian era AU, the title really says it all.

The Pull to the Light by HarpiaHarpyja

Entrancingly macabre. This modern/fantasy/monsters AU catches your attention from the get-go, and never lets you off the hook.

lay then the axe to the root by sciosophia

All the Bronte goodness, plus smut.

The Golden Age by TourmalineGreen

Golden Age of Hollywood AU in which Ben is a jaded actor in serious need of an image fix, in the form of fresh-faced actress Rey.

Never Be Your Curse by Kate_Reid 

Kylo Ren is a go-go dancer in this AU. That was enough to get my attention 😘

Gallows God by Killtheselights

Bursting with deliciously grim imagery, an intelligent take on Norse mythology.

Thunderstorms, Clouds, Snow, and a Slight Drizzle by aNerdObsessed

Who doesn’t love an ugly sweater Christmas party? Ben Solo, that’s who. All the nostalgic wintertime feels in this modern AU.

Though My Soul Has Set in Darkness by englishable

It’s not long, but it’s good. A lyrical dive into the mindspace of child Ben Solo. A true gem. Also not technically Reylo. Still don’t care.

I Dare You by tinylittlebrain

Daredevil Kylo has pissed off ER doc Rey Kenobi for the last time. Spicy!

stuck in colder weather by redbelles

Professor Ren stops grad student Rey from biking home in a snow storm. And takes her to his home. You can guess where this goes 😉

Between Sky and Sea by nessalk

Serious Indiana Jones vibes with a Caribbean flair. Painstakingly researched, and moments of true beauty and joy.

But Before Tomorrow by Kate_Reid

Such good writing. Canonverse.

The Sword of Prince Hector by englishable

Exploration of what redemption might feel like for Ben, canonverse. 

if compassion be the breath of life, breathe on me by Victoryindeath2

All the angst and unknowns that we were left with in the wake of TLJ are soothed in this canonverse piece.

build a ladder to the stars by redbelles

An exploration of events post-Crait. Fantastic, beautifully written.

nor are we forgiven (which brings us back) by TolkienGirl

Both Kylo and Rey get to see what life would have been like if they both got exactly what they thought they wanted after TLJ. Fascinating read. 

Forsworn by Erulisse17

This Mando/ST crossover has everything you could want--action, witty banter, space romance! So much fun!

Reylo Favorites & Classics

One Shots

59 Minutes by delia-pavorum (literaryminded)

For Science by KyloTrashForever, ohwise1ne

He Made It Through the Wilderness (somehow he made it through) by LovesBitca8

light carries on endlessly by lachesisgrimm (olga_theodora)

Grey by ocjones

The Idiot's Guide to Flirting by Violetwilson

High School/College AU

I Caught Fire by KyloTrashForever

Mountain Springs High School by animal

Epithumia by pontmercy44

Soul Searching by OptimisticBeth

Office/Workplace AU

Sensual Storytime by andabatae

The Food of Love by LovesBitca8

Historical/Dystopia AU

Hiraeth by Ferasha

a manner of virtue by neonheartbeat

The lamb's thirst by animal

Wanted by Inmyownidiom

She Who Would be Queen by sasstasticmad

go i know not whither and fetch i know not what by voicedimplosives

ABO

Knot My First Time by KyloTrashForever

Canonverse/Canon-divergent

variations on a theme of you by diasterisms (Reydar)

i will be the wolf by diasterisms

Sky Marked Souls by AnonymousMink

The Death of Kylo Ren by nymja

World In My Eyes by sasstasticmad

i'm always in this twilight (in the shadow of your heart) by diasterisms

Catch Me I’m Falling by violethoure666

Sword of the Jedi by diasterisms

You'll Be the One to Turn by postedbygaslight

Dark Crown by Violetwilson

Harry Potter AU

Nocturnal Studies And Other Peculiar Magic by WaterlilyRose

Otherwise Modern AU

Pretense by Celia_and

Insta-heart by slipgoingunder

Serotonin and Dopamine by pontmercy44

The Elusive Mating Dance of the Porgus Adorabilis by andabatae

Hanging by a Moment by crossingwinter

WAR DOGS by fulcrumstardust

miles from where you are by Mooncactus

Charcoal by luvkurai

Stay by jeeno2

coarse and rough and irritating by frak-all (or_ryn)

Blades Crossed by the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Embers by sciosophia

Mitan, Midi by animal

Janus by englishable

Say My Name by Graendoll

Thank You for The Music by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)

darling, so it goes by akosmia

This is the Sign You've Been Looking For by RebelRebel

Broken Things by midnightbluefox

One-Night Stand by delia-pavorum (literaryminded)

The Rebel Side of Heaven by jeeno2

On The Bumpy Road (To Love) by violethoure666

we could plant a house, we could build a tree by Like_A_Dove

I’d Like My Obituary to Hint at a Sequel by Violetwilson

Only If You Want To by Violetwilson

Not Reylo, Still Awesome

Gingerflower/Gingerrose, Armitage Hux/Rose Tico 

Between Sand and Sea by Brit Hux-Tico (birchwoods01)

If Ever I Would Leave You by Weddersins

Her Yellow Rainboots by Weddersins

Merrical, Cal Kestis/Merrin (Jedi: Fallen Order)

The Stars Alight by FlyingMachine

Heavy Ice by FlyingMachine

Caltrilla, Cal Kestis/Trilla Suduri (Jedi: Fallen Order)

No One Else by xanderwilde

call it what you want by xanderwilde

tear you to pieces by xanderwilde

Dramione, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter Universe)

Now Is A Gift by SenLinYu

Sex and Occlumency by Graendoll

Zutara, Katara/Zuko (Avatar: the Last Airbender)

oracle bones by an orphaned account

Fics by Me

Virtue Ethics

Reylo College AU (completed)

Dr. Ben Solo, adjunct philosophy professor and part-time martial arts instructor, discovers a young woman in his Intro to Philosophy course whom he thinks may not actually be enrolled at the University.

Chiasmus

Reylo Role-reversal canonverse AU (WIP)

Scourge of the galaxy, Kira Ren, is tasked by the First Order to eliminate the last of the Jedi. When she captures hotshot podracer Ben Solo to extract Luke Skywalker’s location from him, things do not go according to plan. 

This Dance of Light, This Sacred Blessing

Snapshots of a modern Reylo AU. Smutty, prosey one-shot.

Listen Up, Kid

Canonverse Reylo Post TLJ one-shot

The ghosts of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren's past are back to haunt him with a vengeance. A well-meaning, familial kind of vengeance. Or, A Star Wars Carol.

Ben’s Body

Reylo Modern AU (completed)

Rey is an up and coming sculptor specialising in human shape and form. Her new next door neighbour has a body to die for and she's determined to preserve it in marble forever. Now she just has to convince dashing and reclusive Ben to model for her. Preferably naked.

Growin’ Up

Reylo High School AU (completed)

Ben Solo was supposed to only be ruining his own life with his bad decisions. Rey Niima was just trying to pay attention in class. Both get stuck in detention.

Seven Texts, 2 AM

Reylo Modern AU, smutty one-shot

Ben has good reasons not to have sex with his neighbor, Rey. She has other ideas.

Song of the Forest

Reylo Fantasy/BatB/Fairytale AU (completed)

Once upon a time, a girl with an unknown past appeared on the doorsteps of a lord’s manor, and now the forest at the edge of the lord’s property is calling to her.

A Season of Frost & Warmth

Modern Reylo P&P AU (completed)

When Ben shows up to a Halloween party with no costume, it only confirms Rey’s certainty that he is the world’s biggest jerk. Until it comes to light that maybe... he isn’t. 

Follow Me Home

Modern Werewolf Reylo AU (completed)

Rey gets stone drunk and brings home a big cute husky she found in an alley. The next morning, she finds a naked man built like a fridge sleeping on her living room floor, and no dog in sight.

The Gentleness That Comes

Reylo Modern AU one-shot

Underground boxer!Ben is resigned to his life of violence, until he meets a pretty new bartender one night.

Unlikely, Unbidden, Unbound

Gingerflower canonverse AU (WIP)

General Hux is imprisoned by the Resistance when the First Order falls. He had known his death was coming, it was simply a matter of course. He’s disappointed to learn the Resistance has other plans, and an unwavering policy of giving people second chances.

@thereylowritingden @reylofic @nancylovesreylo @grlie-girl @lilia-ula @greyforceuser @tazwren @mhcalamas

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Household Planning (2/2)

Summary:  

“It was Levi’s household. The plates were arranged and sorted by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook.”

Levi gets sick and Hange is left to navigate household chores.

Link to other chapters: 1

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: Set in the same verse as  “Rough day”  and “Sugar Rush”

“You’re strong enough to make it to the payphone now at least.”

“Only barely, the nurse is pushing the wheelchair."

Hange smiled. It had been four days since his surgery. There were good days. There were also bad days, bad enough for Hange to have to manage her expectations on when things would go back to normal.

She knew it was a long shot. When the doctor said Levi would be in the hospital for a week, she had expected that that meant she could go back to working as soon as her leave was up.

When the doctors tried to get Levi back into physical activity though, Hange was made aware of the harsh reality of the situation. His wound was deep. The infection that ravaged through his digestive system had left its mark and Levi was finding it hard to eat or even sit up for long periods of time.

She sought solace in the small bouts of progress that came with each day, the food trays that got emptier and emptier every time she visited, the amount of time he spent sitting up which only increased as the days went by. The breakthrough came in the form of a surprise phone call, and Levi’s voice seemed stronger and clearer than it had been the past few days.

"I'll be there after I drop Luke off at school."

"You made sure to pack his lunch?"

"I won't make the same mistake again."

She made sure to pack Luke dinner as well. Luke was going to be staying over in a friend's place for the weekend. Her son had been more than enough the past few days to help her understand Levi's cleaning habits.

He was still seven years old though and no seven year old was supposed to be teaching their mother how to manage a house.

She had made that weekend a project for her. Levi was due to be discharged by Monday and the least she could do was try to make the house spotless herself.

She kept that part a secret though as Levi drilled her on how to do laundry using the washing machine he had bought a year back.

The white bottle with the green cap is bleach, you only use it for white clothes.

Separate the lights and the darks.  

Leave it out to dry outdoors or it will stink up the whole house.        

She spent her Saturday alone going through all those points as she did the laundry.

Levi had mentioned separating the lights and darks on three separate occasions when she had mentioned her intention to do the laundry. The whole process had gone smoothly and peacefully enough that Hange had more than enough of a mindspace to think and reflect on the past few days.

Would Luke have been able to do the laundry?

Hange thought back to all the help and effort the young boy had offered to her. She had told Levi about it during her visits while their son was in school.

"When you're at work, who do you think has to keep the kid company?" Levi had said back then.

It dawned on her. She was out of the house for twelve hours at a time, sometimes she was out on weekends too. She had always been on the road, jumping from project to project. She liked the long days. It helped her stay focused. Her preoccupation with her job though had left her completely clueless on household chores.

The washing machine and the basket of clothing felt unnatural to her touch and when she emptied the laundry basket into the washing machine, she found herself wondering whether Levi would have stopped her to point something out if he were there. She still had a lot to learn.

As she waited for the clothes to finish their cycle in the washing machine, she occupied herself by tinkering with the vacuum cleaner.

Levi liked the floor spotless and the vacuum cleaner was a godsend for him. Hange was aware enough of this particular new cleaning tool because it was definitely one of the more popular developments next to the washing machine. Also, Hange had seen Levi using it a few times on the days she was home.

Hange looked down at the floor as she placed the vacuum in the middle of the living room. The floor looked good enough to her. Levi though had an eye for discoloration, delible patches of dirt and a penchant for rubbing them off and Hange had come upon the realization that she owed him enough to at least try to conform to his idea of home.

Hange did not know how often Levi vacuumed or cleaned out the house. Hange though had become aware of the slight changes brought about by his five day absence.

Although Luke had done his part to keep the house clean, being seven years old had limitations.The upper shelves in the kitchen were slightly untidier than the lower shelves. Hange guessed it was because she could never straighten them out perfectly or find the most optimal arrangement for storage. She could not pick out the exact reason though even as she snuck glances at it between other chores. She was sure though Levi would have something to say about it.

Hange's pile of clean clothes was smaller than she had ever seen it before which reminded her of the fact that Levi probably did laundry everyday.

Parts of the house had started to have a faint and unfamiliar musty smell and Hange was sure it was because Levi had left the house completely spotless  before and took pains to make sure each room was aired out everyday. The initial traces of the odor could only be hints to the recent neglect.

Hange found herself in a wistful mood as she tried to think back to her experiences in the house when everything had been arranged perfectly and the only scents that lingered in the air were those of detergent and cleaning liquids. It was the way Levi liked his home and Hange had taken it all for granted.

As Hange emptied the washing machine and  brought out the clothes to dry, she found herself thinking back to their conversation with the doctor when they discussed Levi's discharge.

Four to six weeks. No strenuous physical activity.

Strict bedrest.

Hange knew Levi well enough to know he would be in hell, forced to stay put in a musty and disorganized house. It would be impossible to keep him in bed

I could at least try. That was where Hange even got the motivation to attempt Levi's method for double cleaning everything. If she could at least keep the house clean enough that Levi could rest well would be a good enough achievement.

Going through the motions of mopping, sweeping and vacuuming were easy. Trying to calm herself down as she pondered every possible speck of dust she might have missed was what made the whole ordeal difficult. Hange had to pull herself away from the task and move on to the clothes, two hours after. At that point, she had only finished up the living room and kitchen, having made three rounds around both areas.

The sun was already about to set when Hange decided for herself that she was satisfied with her job on the floors and on the walls.  

It was dark by the time Hange started folding the dry clothes and placing them in the dresser and she was starting to feel the emptiness of the house. The only light on was in the room she shared with Levi. She was alone with her thoughts and consequently, had enough time and space to notice Levi,'s meticulous folding method that left no creases. Hange placed the clothes she had folded next to those at the bottom of the drawer which Levi had left a while back. The two shirts next to each other only reminded Hange that she would probably never be able to replicate it.

Her last task was her own dresser. She opened it to see her own blouse right on top, still neatly pressed, waiting to be worn.

As she looked back at the pile of clothes waiting to be folded and stuffed into the drawer, Hange became aware of her habit of just pulling out blouses and pants from her dresser first thing in the morning and just wearing whatever she could get her hands on.  If she put all the clothes she had just washed right on top, she would might find herself the next morning in the blouse she wore just yesterday

Yet, every piece of clothing in that drawer was worn a fair amount of times.

She eventually figured out how exactly Levi's system of organizing her clothes worked. Completely aware of her lack of regard for fashion and her constantly being on the go, he most likely always emptied her dresser before putting in the new clothes. Just to make sure, she wore something new everyday.

It was a small detail. With nothing else to ponder in that dark room though, it was the one that occupied her the most because it meant something so much more than that.

She thought back to the faint musty smell, the fruit bowl, the nights she would fall asleep to the sound of metal to wood, the flutter of clothing. She had her difficulties with parts of the house which were Levi's territory. She had never cooked, cleaned or did laundry. For the parts of the house, she did usually find herself interacting with, it was as if they were all tailor fit for her.

Levi was aware she always took a piece of fruit before leaving and had organized the fruit bowl in such a way that nothing would fall when she took one hurriedly.

He was aware she always took the first blouse in a pile so he made sure the one shirt on top was always the one she hadn't worn in a while.

Suddenly, her senses were heightened and as Hange prepared to go to bed, she notice, in the small details, stark contrast between how she went about her homemaking and how Levi went about it.

As she showered that night, she noticed the lack of order in her toiletries.

Conditioner, soap, shampoo

Before Levi got sick, it was always organized in the manner most convenient for her.

As she lay in bed, she noticed the way she had evenly spread out the pillows. Levi on the other hand, had always placed three pillows close to her side, since she had the habit of hugging multiple pillows while she slept.

She lay awake for a long time. She wanted to attribute it to the uncomfortable positioning of the pillows or the faint unfamiliar scents that plagued the house. Those were just amplifiers.

As she rolled from side to side on the bed, trying to find the most comfortable position, Hange had started to become aware as well of the cold spot where Levi used to sleep.

Of course it was cold. He hadn't been home in almost a week and she usually kept to her side of the bed. Hange's heart was heavy as she lay on his side of the bed, trying to warm the cool sheets beneath her.

She missed the warmth, she missed the grunts she'd hear as she rolled towards him in the middle of the night after a nightmare. She missed his arms around her and his whispers of "just sleep."

Hange went out to the living room, sat on the sofa and looked out the window. She had tried to lose herself to the clear night sky, which would help her daydream enough to tire her out. It had done the complete opposite though.

Levi was outside. He was a taxi ride away. All she had to do was put on a coat and call the taxi.

I wonder if he's asleep now.

She eventually gave in. She called a taxi, grabbed a jacket out of her coat and waited outside in the dead of night.

It took around an hour but it felt like ages.

Being part of the patient's immediate family, she was allowed straight into his room, even beyond visiting hours. She opened the door to find him sleeping on his side, his back to the door.

"Levi, it's me…"

Years of fighting for his life, had made Levi a light sleeper, and Hange had expected her voice at least to have woken him up. Levi did not respond. As Hange approached the bed, she made out  an empty glass with medicine wrappers inside it which Hange guessed probably had something to do with it.

She gave herself some more leeway to make noise as she moved a chair to the side of the bed and plopped herself down.

She bent forward and pressed her forehead on his and kissed his nose. The familiar scent of her husband lingered on her nose and she smiled as she studied his face closely. For a man who had experienced enough war, violence and loss to last a thousand lifetimes, Levi somehow still looked like a child in his sleep.

Hange put her arms on the bedside, rested her chin and stared for a while longer.

"I love you. I'm sorry I took you for granted."

                                  Household Planning

"Hey four eyes, wake up."

Hange woke up to a hand on her head. She looked up to see Levi sitting up in bed. Despite his harsh tone of a while ago, he didn't look at all annoyed to see her.

"You got tangled up in my tubes. I couldn't move properly."

"Sorry…" Hange rubbed at her one good eye as she made sense of what was happening.

"Why are you here anyway?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I couldn't sleep either, kept wondering about what else you might have fucked up at home."

Having been with him long enough, Hange had already gotten used to his offensive and crude humor. She still found herself tearing up, possibly from the implication of his joke or the accumulated stress of the whole ordeal.

"I'm sorry okay... For not knowing how to run a household... For forgetting about Luke… For you having to teach me everything." Hange tried hard not to raise her voice. Too distracted by the whirlwind of emotions that forced itself out of her though, Hange could not tell if she had been shouting.

"Hey, I think you're doing fine." Levi's voice was notably softer. "You think I would have done any better if you asked me to make blueprints for a tram that runs through the capital. It's not like you left me to do the cooking and cleaning while you were out drinking or lazing around. You work just as hard."

"Managing a household is a team effort," Hange argued.

"You have the future of Paradis in your hands. The only thing I have to manage is you and Luke."

"Did you ever feel like I was taking you for granted?" At that point, Hange mustered up the courage to look up at Levi. She managed to catch his look of surprise.

Within a second, Levi’s face softened into a subtle smile. "I don't clean the house or cook dinner for praise. I'm pretty satisfied just making sure you two don't have to worry yourself over these types of things. And to be honest, I'm just losing sleep over the fact that I can't be there to make it any easier for you."

"Are you disappointed about how I went about things while you were here?"

"I’d be lying if I said no. I only realized when this happened that I never really taught you how I did things at home.” Levi lowered his gaze. “It’s my fault."

I should have tried to learn it too. Hange admitted to herself. As she imagined the nights she went straight to the shower and into the bed, the times she brought Luke out for a walk on her days off while Levi cleaned the house or did laundry, Hange realized that she never really thought twice to offer to help.

If Levi asked for help, would I have helped him? Of course she would have. She would have been happy to do so. Levi never did ask for help in anything though and the few times Hange did even consider offering, she assumed he had wanted to do things on his own.

Hange decided against another apology. The best way to give back was to improve from there on. “So I guess you’re going to have to teach me huh?”

“Take the whole month off if you need to.”

                                        Household Planning

When the week long break Hange requested for ended, the former commander found herself back in the office with a similar request. Getting permission from the queen was easy. When it came to Armin though who would be handling a lot of the work, Hange hesitated to even ask. By then though, most of the former members of the Survey Corps had caught wind of the state of the former captain and Armin and Mikasa had promised to step up in her absence.

“You never did take breaks except when you had Luke. After all the work you put into this, a month long break is well deserved.”

All she needed was the blessing of her comrades to find the strength to leave the letter and say her goodbyes. They had promised at least to keep her informed on any new developments so she would at least still be in the loop when she gets back.

As she stepped out of the office once again and into the courtyard, she let the early afternoon breeze greet her like it always did and she let all her thoughts of work wash away with it. She was going to take the whole month off and she had no intention of wasting it. `  

Hange decided to walk home, using that time to clear out any other small bouts of hesitation or regret from her brain. This is for your family. Hange reminded herself too many times on the way home, it seemed like a mantra.

She did not expect to be distracted from any doubts from work when she opened the door of her home. As she stepped into the house, she made out a figure on a chair in front of an open fridge, all of the products which were supposed to be in the refrigerator arranged neatly on the dining table.

“Levi!”

He had only been discharged that morning, unable to make it to the bedroom himself, Hange had to act as his crutch the whole way. A few hours after she had helped him settle in bed, he was once again doing what he always did.

A part of her wanted to smile, laugh at the whole situation. Her apprehensions and her commitment to taking care of her partner though, took over. “What are you doing? I told you I’ll be doing the chores. Just tell me what to do.”

“We’re gonna make it easier for you mommy.” It turned out Luke was next to Levi, concealed by the open refrigerator door just a second ago.

“It’s washable, so I think it’s fine,” Levi added.

Hange went directly behind Levi to get a better idea of what the two had been working on. She looked at the inside of the fridge and once again at the two boys. The different compartments of the fridge had been written on.

Vegetable, Dairy, Cut fruit, Meat,

What made Hange howl in laughter as she made sense of the situation was the fact that every sign had been written by a kid. Levi had at least coached Luke on the right spelling for each label.

As Hange turned her head a little to the side, she had to hold in a snort when she saw the messily written notes on the compartments of the refrigerator door.

Eggs behind cheeses. BE CAREFUL WITH TRAY.

Berries on the top shelf behind juices

Leftovers

EAT ME

COOK ME

Luke’s Lunch

“What’s with you too?” Hange managed to ask as soon as she had gathered enough oxygen inside her to be able to talk again.

“The cheeses and the blueberries went bad, I forgot to tell you about that back in the hospital.” Levi explained, so seriously, Hange almost thought he was answering her question.

“I’ll put everything back, I think you’ve given me enough signs on what to do.” Hange turned to Luke. “Don’t you have homework?”

Luke pouted. “I wanna help…”

“Let mommy learn. You’re too good at this already.” That was enough at least to bolster the young boy’s confidence.

“Just call if you need anything.” Luke grinned at the compliment before retiring into his room.

“And you?” Hange glared accusingly at Levi.

“I’m staying here. You’ll need someone to coach you right?” Levi looked uncomfortable on the dining room chair that had been moved in front of the fridge. It was evident his surgical wounds were still hurting him.

“At least let me move you to the sofa.”

With little to no prodding, Levi obliged. As Hange helped him out of the chair and toward the sofa, she noticed that he had placed all his weight on her.

“You’re tired? Does anything hurt?”

Levi did not answer. Hange knew him long enough though to know that if he wasn’t saying anything, his answer was probably a yes. She lay him gently on the sofa. She took one of the blankets from her room and placed it on top of him. He did not protest the gesture.

“Throw out the cheeses and the blueberries,” Levi reminded as Hange looked through the food scattered on the table.

“What if we just remove the ones with mold.”

“Just don’t risk it.”

Hange separated the rest of the food from those Levi had singled out. “I guess I’ll just follow the compartment labels with these.” Hange gave the pile a once over then looked to Levi.

“The rest of the eggs go in the ‘Cook Me’ compartment. Sliced strawberries in the ‘Eat Me’ compartment. Other than that you’re good.”

Hange went through the motions of it all. The labels had made the process quick and there was little to no reason for error. Levi remained silent the whole time and Hange ended up looking back at Levi multiple times to check if he had fallen asleep. Every single time, he had been staring intently back at her as she refilled the refrigerator, product by product.

“What do you think?” Hange moved out of the way of the refrigerator.

“Three out of five. Passable.”

“I just did what you told me to do.”

“Some of them were crooked, minus one.”

“And the other minus one?”

“You did a shitty job with not cooking. The food I left in the fridge and the food I made you buy were supposed to last you the week. Did you eat out everyday while I was at the hospital or something?”

“I can make us some tea.” Hange brought out two tea bags and two tea cups from the cupboard. “Luke bought some more for you.” Levi liked black tea and she hoped that digression would have been enough for him to forget that particular misdeed.

“So you did eat out everyday.” Levi said matter-of-factly.

Hange let the whistle of the kettle answer the question for her. She placed the tea bags on the cup, and silently waited for the steam to rise to the top.

Hange brought the cups of hot tea to the living room where Levi lay comfortable. “Scooch.” She regretted the command when she saw the subtle wince in Levi made as he sat up to give her space to sit.

She gently edged herself close to Levi, placing the latter in a good position to rest his head on her lap. “I probably would have cooked more if you pointed that part out.”

“I thought food going bad was a given.”

“I had to learn a lot. Give me a break.”

“Blueberries and cheese are expensive. I’m not letting you make that same mistake again.”  

“Then I guess adding those labels was a good idea then.” Hange took a sip of the hot tea. As she imagined the scribbles on the refrigerator once again, she smiled. “I can’t believe you let Luke do that though, his writing looked messy, even for me. Not like you to allow something like that.”

“Hey, it was a team effort.” Levi rested his hand on his side, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Hange surmised that with the pain he was in, he probably would not have been able to bend down and write it in all the compartments himself. “So I guess from now on, I get a say on where things go too.”

“Why not? This is our house after all.”  

[vindicatedvirgil]

i’m not the bad guy (part two) / anxciet

part one

i wanted to write some more about my faves, and i had a cute idea for a way to continue this. i’m definitely considering doing a part three or more.

this includes: subtle anxceit, a flashback to before virgil left the dark sides (including some unsympathetic remus during that time period). if i’m forgetting something i should mention please let me know!

(masterlist)

Virgil was laying with his head dangling off the foot of the bed, headphones on and blasting music so loud that he could no longer register what the artist was saying. His eyes were closed and he felt like he was drowning in his emotions. He had no idea how long it had been since he started laying there and he didn’t know if the others noticed his absence (sometimes it took them a while to realize that he had gone into his bedroom).

Hands touching the sides of his face startled him. His eyes shot open to see Janus standing over him, hair a mess and his coat unbuttoned. Virgil slipped his headphones off of his head and glared at Deceit, waiting for an explanation. The snake was out of breath.

“Have you…” a huff, “seen… my hat?” Virgil groaned and sat up on the bed, turning his body to face Janus. “I… need it.”

“No, I haven’t seen your hat, Janus,” He responded, crossing his arms. “Did you check with the twins?” Janus grumbled and sat beside Virgil on the bed.

“They both said they hadn’t seen it.” He said plainly, running a hand through his patchy hair. Virgil tilted his head, watching him carefully. “Logan and Patton are also unsure. But... everyone is keeping an eye out.”

“Did you just… misplace it?” Virgil asked hesitantly. He had never seen Janus so panicked, and he couldn’t even count on one hand the times that he had seen his hair this way. It was patchy on the left side, but on the right, his snake side, there was no hair at all. Virgil knew that it made Janus feel self-conscious. “I’ll help you look for it. We can check every room, yeah?”

“Can I borrow your hoodie until we find it?” Janus asked. His voice was so small, like he was nervous to even ask, but Virgil just unzipped his hoodie and removed it, then held it out for the other side. Janus smiled weakly and removed his coat then slid on the hoodie, placing the hood over his hair. “...thanks.” 

The two left Virgil’s room and headed to the kitchen. Virgil tried to be attentive, to see if he could find the hat. Janus suddenly grabbed Virgil’s arm, head down. “Hey… don’t worry, Jan. We’ll find it.” When they entered the kitchen, Patton and Roman were in there, decorating some cookies. “Are you sure that neither of you have seen the hat anywhere?” Virgil asked. Patton shrugged and Roman shook his head.

“Can’t you just… conjure a new one?” The prince asked. Janus shook his head sadly.

“That hat… it can’t be replaced. If I conjured a new one… it wouldn’t be the same,” He said softly. Virgil was reminded of a time long before he left the dark sides. 

---(flashback)---

“It just keeps falling out,” Janus was laying on the floor, hand on his head. The three sides were all lying on the dark floor. “What am I supposed to do?”

“It’s just hair, Jan,” Virgil said, scooting over to lay closer to Deceit. Remus giggled from a bit farther away.

“It makes you look like one of those stuffed animals that you see laying on the side of the road,” He cackled. Janus frowned deeper. “You know, unwanted.”

“Shut up, Ree.” Virgil hissed. The creative one rolled his eyes. Anxiety sighed, and held out his hand, conjuring a black bowler hat. “Here.” He practically forced it at Deceit. Janus sat up abruptly, taking the hat carefully. He set it on the top of his head, then looked at Virgil, who nodded and gave an awkward thumbs up. “Looks good.”

---(end flashback)---

“Helloooo~? Virgil?” Patton was waving a hand in front of Virgil’s face, smiling brightly. “You kinda tuned out there, kiddo.” Virgil just smiled weakly and shook his head.

“Sorry. I was… remembering something.” He muttered. “Let us know if you see the hat, okay?” He led Janus out of the kitchen and the two continued to make their way through the mindspace. They passed the door to the darkness, and Virgil shuddered. “You haven’t… been back there, right?” Janus shook his head.

“Not since I told Thomas my name. Kind of like what you did to get out,” He said, pressing his hand against the door. “Ree did go back in last week, though. Said it’s… dusty, but still just as empty as ever.” The two continued to search and ended up in the greenhouse that Patton and Logan had been tending to. Janus separated from Virgil’s arm and was looking around, and then Virgil saw it.

It was on one of the workbenches, next to a pot of dirt. He picked it up and brushed off some specks of dirt that had landed on it. “Jan, come here.” He turned around and smiled his small smile, and Janus rushed over. “It was here on the workbench.” He reached out and removed the hood from Deceit’s head and then put the hat on top. “There. Looks good.”

Janus leaned up on the tips of his toes and pressed a gentle kiss to Virgil’s cheek, catching the anxious side off guard. He pulled back, watching the other very carefully. “Thanks, Virge.” He said, the human side of his face turning red. Virgil cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Um. Yeah. Sure.” He felt like he was choking over his words. “Anytime.”

(click here for the final part)

[astrohawritings]

(Step) Mama-Bear Stength

Rating; Fluff?

Warning ⚠️; Mentions of a car crash.

Word count; 1.3K

Member; Sanha x Reader

Prompt; based on "Ordinary people do extraordinary things". Also this idea may have reminded me of my mama bear @kesmonsterwrites

“Good Lord,” Y/N grumbled. “Just when I thought today could go no worse.” A sigh followed the muttered words, the young woman dragging a hand through her messy hair. The nursery was way too messy for her liking, and yet she could not for the life of her find a place to start. Should she start with the blankets over the arm of the rocking chair, neatly folded and waiting to be put away on their rightful shelf? Or the cute little onesies freshly washed and sitting in the clothes basket? She might have chosen one of those choices on any other day, but today she chose to clean up the mess on the rainbow patterned baby sheets in the cot. Another sigh, and she began to strip the tiny bed, grimacing at the mess as she dropped the sheet on the ground near the door, along with the exceptionally soft, blue blanket. Y/N searched through the drawer for a set of sheets that caught her fancy. Tugging a fitted sheet with a peach pattern out of the drawer, she turned to see her boyfriend, Sanha standing in the doorway.

“Hiya. How’d you go?” Y/N asked, sending him a small smile as she walked over to the crib. “Was Skye hard to dress?” She questions over her shoulder, making sure the sheet was tight on the mattress then straightening up again, checking the fit with her eyes. She was well aware of the risks of a baby as young as the 5-month-old relaxing in her father’s arms and lazily watching the process. Her little face, Y/N noted as she turned to face the both, barely showed signs of her wailing from moments earlier. “I mean, she’s not feeling well, so tougher than usual,” Sanha chuckled, smiling down at the baby in his arms. “but then again, she is a baby and they tend to move around a bunch anyway.” Skye mumbled some gibberish, her tiny, chubby limbs flailing around and weakly hitting Sanha's shoulder and upper stomach. Y/N laughed her soft laugh, moving forward to gently adjust the small, white top reading ‘I found my prince, His name is Daddy’ in gold, glittery font. A pretty, rosy skirt matching a floral bow in her light brown hair. Pink, slightly-above-ankle length socks kept her shoeless feet warm. Leaning down to gather the messy bedding, She moved past Sanha, calling an explanation over her shoulder. “I’ll pop these in the wash, then let’s go for a walk.”

The weather was characteristically warm for the middle of spring, when the sun wasn’t that strong. Y/N pushed the stroller, slipping easily into conversation with Sanha as they walked. The walk was going well, up until a woman sauntered over, filling Y/N with a sense of uncertainty. Skye also seemed to be put on edge by the woman, letting out a nervous murmur. “Hi, Sannie!” The woman trilled, barely sparing either of the other females a glance. “How are you, honey?” Sanha visibly flinches, but for the sake of appearances accepts the hug offered- or rather, almost-forced- to him.  “I’m alright, Abby, thanks.” He replies curtly, stepping over toward the stroller protectively. The woman then seems to notice Y/N and Skye. Abby crouches in front of the pram, smiling fakely at the child. “Ah, yes. Hello there...” She pauses, looking up at Sanha. “What did you name our child, Sannie?” Abby asks, placing emphasis on ‘our’. It took everything Y/N had to not roll her eyes. Sanha sighed, rolling his eyes and sparing his girlfriend a glance. “Skye.” Abby gasped sarcastically, straightening up. “Really cute.”

She then glared at Y/N.

Not speaking, she turned away, pulling her phone out. Talking into the phone, she laughs shrilly, and Y/N flinched, pushing the stroller away before the high-pitched noise could upset Skye, and the young girl began to cry. 'I'm going to put her back in the car.' She mumbled to Sanha as she passed. Sanha could only nod in agreement, having the same idea. Finding the car again, Y/N busied herself with moving around the car, readying the vehicle to put the baby back in. she could ear footssteps approaching as she put Skye in her car seat, carefully buckling her up.  Assuming it was Sanha, she ignored him, ensuring Skye was secured properly. Once Sanha had put the pram in the back of the car, they set off, intending to head to another park. But before they could get too far, the car was thrown sideways, both back wheels trying desperately to stay on the road. The car stopped with a jolt as soon as the other door was pressed into a metal pole. As soon as everything had settled and it had clicked for Y/N, she turned in her seat, not thinking to check on herself.

Skye’s wails filled the air, and from what Y/N could see, she was unhurt. A quick glance told her that Sanha was not hurt either, just stunned. Leaping from the car, Y/N ran around to the back door closest to Skye; which was seemingly the less damaged door. Tugging at the handle did nothing, and the door remained stubbornly shut. Skye’s wails were seemingly growing louder, and it was putting Y/N into a Mindspace somewhat like tunnel vision. With a sudden bout of “Mama-Bear strength” or hysterical strength, she ripped the door open, only and solely focused on getting Skye out and making sure she was okay. She could faintly hear the other driver apologising to Sanha, explaining that their brakes had failed.

Sanha, though curious as to why he had been hit so harshly while going at such a slow pace, was more worried about his partner and child, stared distractedly over the driver’s shoulder, watching as Y/N snapped at a few people to clear a space for her to put the car seat down, humming quietly to Skye. Sanha, who eventually escaped the other driver, joined her, watching nervously. Looking around, he was reassured by the sounds of approaching sirens. He caught Abby standing at the back of the crowd, looking on uninterestedly.  “Good riddance,” He thought. “The last thing we need is to have her hovering around in such a scenario.”  As he finished that thought, the ambulance arrived, paramedics jumping out and starting to do their jobs, checking over both Sanha & Y/N, but finding nothing out of the ordinary. They found no injuries on Skye either and allowed them to leave. Well, after they had spoken to the police officers on scene, that is.

Wanting to go home and be together, Y/N, Sanha and Skye caught a taxi home with promises of having their car towed to be repaired, though neither of them believed it could be fixed.

Somehow, Y/N mused, just somehow, cleaning up after Skye earlier was preferable to what had happen in the past hour or so. Even though Skye wasn’t her biological child, and that Abby had practically dumped Skye on Sanha when she was born, she treated Skye as though she was her very own child, which, she pondered, is probably where the “Mama-Bear strength” came from.

Skye, well, little Skye had forgotten, mostly, about what had happened. Maybe. She looked like she had, but then again, she was 5 months old. She was happily bouncing on her butt in her little play pen, closely watched by both of her parents.

Sanha was simply happy that both his girlfriend and his daughter were okay. He was still shook up, unbelieving that his car had been hit. As a result, he clung to Hailey’s side, almost fearful that if he didn’t; if he wasn’t close, that something would happen. And he couldn’t - he wouldn’t let that happen ever. To either of his girls.

[coworkingspacesblog]

DWARAKA ONE

Dwaraka Group is a prominent name in the Indian business landscape, boasting an impressive 43-year legacy.

Headquarters in Hyderabad, the group has cultivated a prestigious reputation across multiple industries, specializing in Roads & Infrastructure and Office Space Construction & Leasing.

Dwaraka’s Construction & Leasing division has revolutionized the way businesses work by offering state-of-the-art workspaces with flexible lease terms.

Our unique concept of flexi-offices allows businesses to adapt their spaces during the lease period, whether it involves expansion to accommodate growth or optimization by eliminating excess space. Our flexible lease terms also facilitate relocation to different buildings within our portfolio, offering increased convenience and versatility.

We’re currently operating in 14 buildings along with our affiliate, The Headquarters, providing solutions in four formats: Managed Office Spaces, Fully Furnished Offices, Co-working Spaces, and Hourly/Daily rentals of Conference Rooms and Event Spaces. Strategically located near public transit terminals, our offices ensure a seamless and efficient commute to work.

Website : https://www.dwarakagroup.com/

Features / Amenities:

Dwaraka One is located in the heart of Hitech city adjacent Raheja Mindspace and Westin.

Distance from:

Metro: 700 Meters, Bus: 200 Meters, Food: 100 Meters

100 % Power back up (DG) 24*7 Access Adequate Bike & Car Parking Facility Bore and Manjeera water facility CC TV Surveillance in common areas Customized Interiors Fully Furnished / Plug & Play office

Website : https://www.dwarakagroup.com/property/dwaraka-one/

[pb1138]

Seeking Truth in Song: Prologue

This is a sort of prologue to what will be another 6ish chapters of a romance between my Orlesian inquisitor Melodie Poulin and Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast. 

The title will probably change. I’m not digging it super well but I can’t think of anything better right now. 

Pairing: Cassandra Pentaghast/Female Inquisitor  Rating: I’ll set it as teen for now, but it may be upgraded to mature later. As of yet, nothing explicit is planned.  Word count: 1474 Summary: Melodie awakens in a cold, dark room to discover that she is alone in a frightening new world. 

Dripping. The chill in the air was worsened by the dampness of the room and the biting of cold metal about her wrists, but it was the dripping that woke her. The room was dim, the stone dark, the smell of mildew and stillness all around. If she had to guess, Melodie would say she was in a dungeon of sorts. A guard stood in the corner, watching her with arms folded across his chest. If she had to guess, she would say he was a Templar based on the Eye upon his chest plate.

Her arm felt strange, heavier and tingling as if it had been asleep. A sudden flash of light and a jolt shooting up her arm ripped a gasp from her throat, made her whole body shake. Maker, what was that?! Three more guards seemed to have materialized out of thin air, making four of them who all had swords caging her, ready for the kill. Melodie nodded once, slightly, and stilled her body in an attempt to assuage their paranoia.

The green light continued to flicker and crackle intermittently, casting an eerie glow about the room, and she observed it closely. Her hand looked the same. It was still clearly her arm, uninjured though her sleeve now hung loosely from her shoulder in tatters. A fog roiled in her mind, one that hung thick and unyielding over any memory of what brought her to this place, try as she might to cut her way through. Wherever this green light came from, she was sure that she did not remember.

A door across the room burst open, two women storming in behind it. The one who bore the armor of a Seeker of Truth walked deliberately about Melodie upon the floor, her hand resting casually but threateningly upon the pommel of her sword. The hooded one stepped into the light, a flurry of furious emotions upon her face and in her posture from her stiff shoulders to her clenched fists. Whatever had brought Melodie to this place had obviously caused quite a stir.

The Seeker leaned down, voice harsh as she demanded, “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.” She took a few steps, leaving no pause for Melodie to reply as she explained, “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” She stopped in front of Melodie, finger pointed as the two glowered down at her.

Conclave? thought Melodie. I do not even know what that is. The threat in the room stayed her tongue, and she chose to remain silent for fear of implicating herself in her ignorance.

The Seeker lunged, hand grasping tightly about Melodie’s hand, and lifted it to her face. “Explain this,” she hissed.

As if on cue, her hand lit up again, the green glow flickering brightly in the dim room before the Seeker threw her hand back down. Melodie looked down at her palm which had settled back to normal once more, brows furrowed as she tried once more to cut through the fog. “I… cannot,” she admitted lamely.

“What do you mean you can’t?” The two women were pacing about her now, circling her like lionesses circling prey.

“I do not know what that is or how it got there.”

“You’re lying!” cried the Seeker as she leaned down to grab Melodie’s shoulders.

The hooded woman thrust her hand onto the Seeker’s chest and pulled her back. “We need her, Cassandra,” she said in an accent not dissimilar to Melodie’s. After a moment’s silence, she turned back to Melodie, her voice softer than the Seeker Cassandra’s but still dripping with authority and threat. “Do you remember what happened? How this began?”

Melodie’s frown deepened as she fought against the fog. Bits and pieces shone through—traveling with Knight-Commander Marteau and his Templars on the long road from Montsimmard, slipping amidst the encampments to eavesdrop and gather what information she could, watching from the shadows as Marteau and the others first met with the Divine Justinia. She started to shake her head, to tell the hooded woman that she remembered nothing of extreme importance, but a few more bits came through—an explosion, screaming, and then she was running. “I remember… running. Things were chasing me. And then there was… a woman?”

“A woman?” repeated the hooded woman with interest.

“She…” Melodie shook her head. “She reached out to me… but then…” Her eyes closed as she fought to recall the face of the woman who had called out for her though not by name, but it was no use. Whatever had happened, the memory of the woman was overshadowed by the creatures that had been pursuing her.

The Seeker, seemingly quieted with this meager piece of information turned and guided the hooded woman towards the exit. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana,” she said with no small degree of exhaustion in her voice. “I will take her to the rift.”

The hooded woman Leliana nodded once and started out the door. Melodie watched as the Seeker came back to her side and braced for a hit which never came. Instead, the chains connecting her manacles to the floor were removed. Melodie watched the gloved hands work for a moment before she met the Seeker’s eyes. “What did happen?” she whispered.

Strong arms lifted her to her feet before Cassandra turned to lead the way out the door. “It… will be easier to show you.”

The cold air struck her like a brick, immediately removing any last remaining bits of grogginess Melodie held in her bones, and the glaring light of the sun reflecting off the snow blinded her for a good long moment. When her eyes finally adjusted, she looked about to find Cassandra had stepped several feet away and was talking, gesticulating towards something in the sky. Melodie looked towards Cassandra’s attention and went rigid with fear. “—into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour.”

Melodie swallowed hard as she stared into the raging maelstrom which turned the sky a sickly green just beyond the mountains. Though born from a mage, Melodie knew little to nothing about the world of magic. She did not even possess any understanding of the magic of potion making beyond which potions did what and to what extent. Standing here underneath this… what did Cassandra call it? A Breach? Melodie felt so small.

Cassandra, still talking, turned towards Melodie. “—caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

“An explosion can do that?” Melodie breathed, incredulous. She had never heard of something so powerful.

“This one did.” She looked on Melodie with some sort of expectation, hinting at something to which she was unaware. “Unless we act, the Breach will continue to grow until it swallows the world.”

No time was afforded Melodie to process Cassandra’s meaning. A bolt of what looked like lightning shot from the Breach with such force she could feel it in her feet, and at the same moment pain wracked her body as her hand began to glow in such a way that it mirrored the maelstrom in the sky. Her knees gave out beneath her before the electricity in her hand settled, and she was left breathless, mind racing with questions.

The Seeker seemed to give no concern as she knelt before her, tone as cool as the chilly mountain air. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads. And it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

Thoughts blurred through Melodie’s mind so fast she wasn’t sure she was actually thinking at all. There was nothing coherent to pick out, no one strand to latch onto. She could only look at the Seeker kneeling before her, waiting for some sort of response with such a forceful air of expectation and requirement.

 “I…” Melodie swallowed and shook her head to try to clear out the buzzing bees of unspoken thoughts rattling about in her mindspace. “I do not… understand. But if…” Her eyes flicked up towards the sickly green torrent of evil that hovered overhead, then back to the soft brown eyes of the Seeker. Though she could not say why, she found a comfort in them, some sort of safety despite still being this woman’s prisoner. If Cassandra’s words were true and everybody who had attended the Conclave was dead, then she had no one now, no one left to have her back, no one to protect her. For the first time in her life, Melodie Poulin was alone. 

Perhaps it was what the Seeker represented, the demand for truth and justice, the familiarity of the Chantry bared upon her breastplate which brought her to say, “If there is something in my power to do to help, I will do it.”

[sapphire-weapon]

hi i can you elaborate more on tseng thinking he use the same methods as jenova? which novella was that?

it’s in chapter 35 of the kids are alright

i’ll copy/paste the entire passage for context (and i’ll put in dialogue tags too)

There had been an incident where the revival of a dead person had caused the deaths of many. It was Jenova’s doing. Tseng recalled that it was a story he heard from Professor Hojo, who was in charge of the Shin-Ra Company’s Science Department.

“According to records, a long time ago, Jenova almost destroyed the world. The method it used was very clever, indeed. First of all, it took the form of someone important to whomever it wanted to deceive, in order to get close to them. For example: a parent, sibling, friend, or acquaintance. It would also sometimes take the form of a dead person. Jenova had just such a power. It then gained their trust, and influenced them. ‘Somebody bears a grudge against you.’ ‘Somebody wants to kill you.’ Once you start telling people these kinds of things, they start getting suspicious.. And, before you know it, people start fighting. It’s self-destruction, really.”

Professor Hojo was the person who was in contact with Jenova for the longest. In the end, it was believed that he had gone mad, but perhaps he had actually fallen under Jenova’s spell and ended up destroying himself because of it. What kind of illusions had the doctor seen? He was a prodigy, but surely even someone with values as twisted as his must have had people who were important to him, right?

* * *

Tseng: “We will protect you. There’s no need to worry.”

Kyrie: “Why?”

Tseng: “You’re a friend of Evan’s. Evan is someone important to us. You heard about that, right?”

Kyrie: “No.”

Tseng proceeded to tell her about the relationship between Evan and Rufus ShinRa. “…and that’s the situation. We are protecting Evan. And, of course, you too.”

After saying that, it crossed Tseng’s mind that, perhaps, his own methods were the same as Jenova’s.

basically, tseng recalls the story of jenova -- a story in which a dead person comes back to life and proceeds to infect and ruin the lives of everyone around them by spinning an elaborate web of lies.

in the following scene, tseng is saying literally anything he can think of in order to get kyrie to trust him. he doesn’t care about her. she’s not his priority. he’s not actually going to protect her from anything.

but kadaj is after her, and tseng wants to trap kadaj. so he’ll tell her anything that he thinks she wants to hear so that she’ll leave in his (tseng’s) custody.

by comparing himself to jenova, tseng is basically stating that he (and possibly the world) would have been better off if he’d actually died at the temple of the ancients. all that’s left for him are lies, trickery, and deceit -- all wrapped within a cocoon of unfeeling, unsympathetic nothingness.

he doesn’t care that he’ll be using kyrie as bait. he doesn’t care about her feelings or her boundaries or her safety or her life. all that matters is his end goal. the road there no longer matters to him.

and that’s never been who he was. but it’s who he is now.

also, by comparing himself to jenova, he’s admitting to feeling as lesser of a person than he used to be. he thinks of himself as nothing more than a hostile entity wearing the illusion of a man who once went by the name “tseng” -- and is using his likeness to achieve whatever end it desires.

and that’s fucked up, bro.

doubly so when you realize that tseng’s character arc never properly concludes from this. by the time the compilation ends, tseng is still in this mindspace. he never moves forward from it.

triply so when you reach the end of the chapter and realize that rufus is using the same methodology:

Tseng walked away from the helicopter, took out his phone, and dialled a string of numbers he knew by heart. He had ordered his subordinates not to save it in their phones. The person picked up immediately.

“Jenova may be surprisingly close, Sir.” Tseng told the person on the other end, Rufus ShinRa, who simply responded with a single word, “understood”.

“Do you remember the girl named Kyrie? …Yes, that’s right. Kyrie said she met with a friend who should have been dead.”

Rufus understood what he meant from that explanation alone.

“Yes, Sir. I think it’s worth taking a chance. But, I think it could put Evan and Kyrie in danger…”

“I have no reason to refuse,” was Rufus’s response.

up until this point in the story, the one thing that differentiated tseng from rufus was tseng’s bleeding heart tendencies. he’s sentimental and gets overly attached to people.

rufus attaches himself to no one. he keeps himself at a very well-guarded distance in order to be as utilitarian as possible. to him, it doesn’t matter if his half-brother dies in the crossfire during the fight with jenova, because destroying jenova is what matters. evan’s life isn’t worth the lives of everyone else on the planet.

up until this point in the story, tseng would’ve pushed back on this mindset. he doesn’t anymore. and now? he’s the one creating the circumstances for rufus to make that utilitarian choice.

tseng looks at that mindset and thinks of jenova.

which is, ultimately, whether he realizes it or not, a statement on how he, at this point in his character arc, views not only himself -- but also rufus shinra.

the relationship that tseng has with rufus and also with himself has become completely, utterly, and possibly irreparably toxic.