#abandonment; by choice or by accident. not being what you Should be; not living up to expectations. simply losing touch or losing way.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

something about love, abandonment, and desire

[bunji-enthusiast]

ahhhhh, im.not the one who requested it buy I love the oneshot about catnap with the child he took care of after the hour of joy because of the kitty thing. Even though I'm not the one who requested it, is it possible I can request something in the same premise of it. Where catnap after taking care of the child for a long time is starting to run out of the food reserves the factory had, and he has to find other ways to feed them. Through feeding them like how he feeds the smiling critters in the playhouse on "meat" from you know who, or forcing the child to leave so they have a chance to find food. But catnap being catnap wants to keep her there despite so decides on the first choice, even though he had let the child get attached to dogday.

(I'm sorry this may show up on your ask box twice I ment to not send this anonymously but I did by accident so I wanted to correct that, anyways thank you for your absolutely amazing writing remember to take breaks when you need to and stay amazing❤️)

Seeker

Note || awe, no worries. Happy to see you in!

WC || 1,034

Sypnosis || emotions are scarce, food is too. It seems factory is getting to everyone, CatNap is left with unprecedented levels of risks.

The conditions of the environment were no doubt not very liveable ones, so he had tried his best to adapt to the conditions so that you may be able to live in his room comfortably or even walk anywhere else in Playcare. Even beyond the whole place in any case, he just wasn’t sure what to do anymore. CatNap was at an odds end within himself at deciding what to do, what would be best for you.

Should he force you to leave the factory in hopes you find food? No, you’d just get lost and scared, no doubt manhandled by an incompetent people that may pass you by in the process. You were just a kid, lonely and in need of companionship and being surrounded by people you could truly trust.

Though the colorful disposition and creepy toys in this place far proved the idea he needed to keep you safer more often. Knowing that you may as well get attached to some of the other toys you come across, CatNap was admittedly worried. 

You were often inquisitive, curious to find everything your attention was captured by. That wasn’t of any good in his honest opinion, but he had to remain with a steady and cool head. So that when it may be, he can take care of you more properly.

CatNap didn’t want you to leave, he had become far too accustomed to your presence. Hearing your joyful laughs and giggles, staying so hopeful and strong in your own unique way. You certainly brought on a joyful aspect to his lonely life, even with all the others he had punished for being heretics. 

DogDay, oh yes, he had to take some chunks from him. That was the last thing he wanted to do with all that has been said and done. But he truly had no other option, but his worst thought being as how you began to get attached to DogDay.

In retrospect however, he will admit that you can be cute and quite charming for just being a child at most. 

“Mr…” You began, the crayon stilling to a stop. DogDay perked his head up, though the effort to move is indeed extraneous on his war-torn body (both literally and figuratively). “Hm, sweetheart?” He spoke out, his voice spooking you a little bit as he hadn’t spoken very often. You didn’t expect him to actually answer you or at all for that matter, but DogDay seemed kind to you. You wanted to get to know him at least, but to him, he was slight afraid – on your behalf, you didn’t know better on a lot of things. Especially the vying point is how his legs had been taken from him, most of it being fed to the smaller toy versions of the smiling critters and you too. Did you even know what you were eating?

You hesitantly stood up, leaving your paper and crayon to abandon. “Why are you chained up like that?” You asked with a tinge of nervousness, almost afraid as if you were going to incur some sort of angry emotion from the large dog. If he could truly move his own gaping black mouth, he would’ve been frowning right now. DogDay was concerned for you, as to why you were put in this situation. 

“I am… just not a very good person, sweetheart.” His gentle tone carried an aura reminiscent of a father if you ever heard one. Your eyes were wide with curiosity, knowing it was okay to continue speaking with him the way you were. “But, you don’t look bad to me. You're even nice to me!” Your innocent tone had brought back a fragmented memory for DogDay, he chuckled with a warm spell about the air.

DogDay let out an audible sigh, “Not all things are as they seem, CatNap included.” His words incited a bout of curiosity in the flames of your stomach. Now this was something you needed to understand, “Stretchy kitty?” DogDay nodded, a chuckle escaping him once more. You simply were the cutest thing he had seen in a long while. 

“I.. would say he’s not, kind or gentle as you would think him to be.” DogDay was nervous, irradiated by a different presence he had quickly taken notice of, but had continued on anyway. “CatNap, had uh, punished me Sweetheart. Wasn’t nice to his god.” 

‘God?’ you thought, “what is that Mr?” You spoke out in reply, sitting down and closer next to him then you were previously. You were rather oblivious to the presence of such an omniscient aura, menacing enough to be sure. DogDay wasn’t sure how to explain the term finely, but you were curious, wanting to satiate that curiosity by always asking questions. 

You deserved to have every single one of them answered, no matter how silly they may seem. DogDay had hoped the best for you, he had gotten rather attached to you. In spite of CatNap’s many warnings to not talk to you or even glance in your direction, not wanting him to bore your head with lies and spiteful attempts to turn you against him in any way possible. Well, DogDay had felt quite an intense hatred against CatNap right at this very moment, and found the courage to move on forward with his words. No matter what may happen to him, “God is uh, let’s say a very inspirational person… powerful even. But he can be a hypocrite too.” He nodded, tilting his head as if he was speaking through his movements.

“Sweetheart, you follow your own heart alright?” DogDay spoke hopefully, hoping to see that his words had gotten to you a little bit. “Never let anyone tell you otherwise.” You nodded with a fire in your eyes he hadn’t expected from you, but this a youthful you, easily impressionable and inspired. DogDay will forever be hopeful for you, and grateful he ever had gotten to speak to you in the past few days anyway.

A distant crying was unheard of, a lonely digressable cat, heart heavy and hurt. He began to cry silently, tears are there yet there are none.

I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything.

[crownmemes]

Caring & Reassuring Sentences, Vol. 3

(Sentences from various sources for muses that care for each other. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"We all need to be touched."

"Things don't always work out the way you want."

"This has been going on for almost a week. You want to talk about it?"

"I get the feeling you're not used to anyone taking care of you."

"You've got a choice. You can spend the rest of your life trying to make up for one mistake, or you can live with it and do your job. You can't do both."

"Sometimes, bad things just happen."

"We stay with the hurt we know rather than risk being hurt again."

"Accidents happen. That's life."

"Whatever you do, don't worry."

"I see myself in you."

"Don’t forget that some people will love you no matter what."

"Believe me, we all fuck up."

"I won't let you go alone."

"You know, you could do with loosening up a bit."

"I know what you're afraid of."

"If you ask me, I think that if a relationship can break you, then sometimes a relationship can also heal you."

"Something will happen. It always does."

"You say that you've failed, but you only fail if you give up."

"You can't help me. No one can help me."

"Never give up on a miracle."

"Would it soften your opinion of me if I confessed that I've always had a particular affection for you?"

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. We can just sit here in silence."

"When you're in contact with something evil, the people closest to you are going to find that difficult."

"We've all been hurt, some more than others."

"You should trust your instincts more."

"I see now that you've got something I never had."

"You don't have to lie. Not to me. I understand."

"I know what it's like to be abandoned - how you think you're worthless and unlovable, and your heart hardens to the person who did it to you."

"If I could take the slightest bit of your pain away, I would."

"There's nothing wrong with being alone."

"We make the bad things that happen to us our fault. It's a way to imagine we have some control, which we don't."

"One should never be ashamed to cry."

[super-ion]

Valiant

(Original post, Chapter 1)

Chapter 2

"Ellie!"

I blink awake. It's dark, the lighting hasn't switched over to morning mode yet and the sky is still black through the warehouse skylights. In fact, the only light is the gentle blue-white from Val's core. The indicator lights from the diagnostic equipment I have set up are completely dark.

I feel a spike of panic. A black out could mean any number of things, from benign to literal end of the world.

"What's going on?" I ask, fighting my grogginess. "What time is it?"

"I have lost external network connection. My internal clock indicates that it is 2:36:74," she says. Her voice is tinny and distant, likely the embedded speaker that I've managed to patch up.

"Ellie, I am sorry," she says. Her tone is distressed and contrite. She continues in a rush, "local wildlife nested amidst the network antenna and I attempted to relocate the nest. However in the process, I have accidently shorted the main high power bus with my drone peripheral."

Ah. That explains that. She probably tripped the main breaker. It's a terrible design and I've been meaning to add some resiliency, but that keeps getting out prioritized.

"Ellie, I am sorry," she repeats. "I have committed a mistake and I have inconvenienced you."

What?

Oh…

She's having the equivalent of a panic attack. She is a hyper intelligent AI core designed for fleet coordination and battle modeling, where failure to follow orders and standard operating procedure costs lives. This comes with a lot of built in anxiety. I understand that modern starships are less prone to such things, but when she was commissioned, the goal was to produce many warships very quickly. They were ultimately meant to be disposable, which led to some programming shortcuts.

"Hey," I say softly. "Are you okay? That's all I care about right now."

I roll out of my hammock and press my body against the surface of her core so that she can feel the plasmic discharge induced by my contact.

"I am well," she replies, her voice still small and panicked. "My core is isolated from main power. I can provide full diagnostics if you desire."

"No, that's okay. I'm glad you're alright. Should we see what we can do to take care of this?"

"Yes, please…"

She pauses.

"I do not like being disconnected. I… do not like the dark."

My heart breaks a little. Eighty-seven years, that's how long she was alone before I found her. An AI like hers can enter low power mode, but that is still an unfathomably long time. Units like her were never meant to be alone.

I reluctantly disengage from her core.

"I have to go outside," I tell her. She knows this, but I'm hoping it helps to talk through the process. "I'm going to get the headset working, so I'll be able to stay in contact, okay?"

"Thank you"

I pat the surface of her core gently before checking the rf transmitter I rigged up at her access port. It's short range, but it runs on her internal power. We used it a lot before I got her connected to internal and external networks, pretty much for this exact purpose, so I could talk to her without being right next to the core.

Connection looks good. I slip on the ear piece.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you Ellie," she replies.

Her voice through the earpiece is warm and smooth, even under the panic. It's her chosen choice and… well, it makes me feel… okay, I'll just say it, it's a very sexy voice. The speaker mounted on the access panel doesn't really convey the full timbre of it. Needless to say, I was blown away the first time I heard it in high fidelity.

I think I might be in love with her.

There's a lot to unpack there, but there's no point in denying that the feelings exist.

I throw on a sweater and a spare pair of boots and make my way up the scaffolding that leads to roof access. About halfway there, I pause for a moment to catch my breath. I chance a look down and my breath is stolen from me.

This room, this entire building, is a warehouse built for a machine of war to be abandoned and forgotten.

It's a squat for a scavenger trying to eke out an existence on the fringes.

"You're beautiful," I whisper.

It is a cathedral. It is a temple built for a goddess and her priestess.

Here in the dark, lit only by the radiation of her core, the space seems infinite.

Her core flickers in response, but she doesn't say anything. She might be embarrassed. She might never have heard those words before and doesn't know how to respond. She doesn't need to. I don't know if she feels the same about me. I'm not even sure if I should want her to. I would hate for her to feel obligated to return my affection solely by the fact that I am the only one who cares enough to repair her. I started this project because I couldn't bear the thought of her suffering alone in darkness, any romantic feelings I have are incidental... mostly.

I continue my scent and finally arrive at the roof access. The door opens with a squeal and I step into the frigid night.

"Oh!" I gasp.

"Ellie?" Val asks in my ear after a moment, worry creeping into her voice. "Are you well?"

"Oh, sorry…" I reply. "It's the stars. The high altitude haze from that dust storm last week has finally cleared. It's… spectacular."

There's a pause.

"Would you describe them for me?" she asks plaintively.

"Uh, sure… but I'm not sure if I can do it justice. Well, there's the glow from the industrial district, but it's not too bad tonight. We've got the arc of the Milky Way pretty much directly overhead. And there's like the fuzzy haze of the planetary disk. Looks like one of the ice giants too. And… well, stars. Thousands of them, just crystal clear."

I locate the main antenna and, sure enough, the drone is tangled up with the main power lines. It looks like there might have been some thin insulation that arced. The spidery drone itself might be salvageable. It is clutching an unfortunately empty nest in its manipulators, whatever wildlife must have fled when she disturbed it. The drone's head is tilted curiously back in a way that I don't think it's fully explainable by arcing.

"Wait, were you out here stargazing?

"The ocular system on the drone peripheral lacks the resolution and focal length to resolve individual stars."

It's not an answer and she sounds very vaguely guilty.

"It's alright if you were," I tell her as I bend down to examine the power conduits. "And I can see if I can get you a better camera system up here. Maybe something telescopic."

"I would not want to inconvenience you," she replies.

"Val, you're allowed to want things," I sigh.

She's quiet for a long moment while I move the drone and begin repairs on the power conduit.

"I miss the stars," she says finally. "There are many things I wish to forget about my past. Being alone amidst the stars was one of my few comforts."

I consider this. It's the most she's ever told me about her past. I've seen the diagnostic logs of her positronic activity indicating distress. Her equivalent of nightmares.

"You know any good stories about them?" I ask.

"I do not understand the nature of your query."

"I don't know," I say with a shrug. "I guess I'm just curious if you have any favorites or if you have any interesting facts in your database.

I'm not really sure how I expect her to respond. I just want to get her talking and not dwell on being trapped in the dark or feeling guilty about causing it.

"There is a star," she begins tentatively, "which according to local charts and my estimate of local time, should be located at azimuth 146.7, elevation 25.4. It is the brightest star in the southern sky, do you see it?"

I'm honestly surprised by this, and it takes me a minute to orient myself and find it.

"Yeah, the bright blue one?"

"Yes!" she replies, and as she speaks she gets more animated - her tone brightens and her cadence picks up. "Epsilon Orionis, Hipparcos 26311, also known as Alnilam. It is the central star of the asterism as viewed from Earth known as Orion's belt. It is among the brightest stars visible from this region of space. During first wave colonization, it was erroneously back translated to Al-Nilam, the Sapphire. Local neo-folkloric tradition associates it with either a maiden or queen…"

She continues on like that, and I find myself absolutely fascinated as I work. The detail is very encyclopedic, but there are aspects of it that she can't possibly have obtained from just a star chart. I quickly come to the realization that she must have sought out details about the folklore and mythology on her own.

This was a hobby of hers. There's no question in my mind now that I have to obtain a better system to facilitate her stargazing.

I finish the patch job on the conduit and heft the drone over my shoulder while she continues. I only interrupt her when I arrive back at the high power breaker.

The night lighting comes back up and she practically sighs with relief as she reconnects with the external network. I wearily drag myself back to my hammock.

"Ellie, I'm sorry to have woken you and taken up so much of your time," she says.

I sigh and press my hand to the surface of her core.

"It's okay, really," I tell her. "I'm here for you."

"Thank you for listening to me," she says, bringing a smile to my face.

"Goodnight, Val."

"Goodnight, Ellie."

I almost say "I love you". I want to.

[live-from-flaturn]

Chay, Hope, and “The New Hunger”

An unnecessary metatextual analysis by an excited English MA queer.

So it all started with this shot from Episode 7 of KinnPorsche:

I zoomed in on the novel next to Chay’s desk out of curiosity and discovered that it was The New Hunger by Isaac Marion. Not a super old book by any means, and definitely one that Chay would realistically be reading.

Also a brief cameo that lets this single comedic shot FORESHADOW SO MUCH OF CHAY’S TRAGIC PLOTLINE without likely intending to do that at all.

Because The New Hunger, published in 2013, is a functional prequel to Marion’s 2010 novel Warm Bodies.

Warm Bodies is by far one of the most beautifully written and engaging re-interpretations of Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” probably ever written (and I spent 3 summers at Shakespeare camp, so this approval is not coming from a casual fan perspective). There are zombies, apocalyptic drama, Daddy issues, and a LOT of stuff about not losing hope in the face of annihilation, loss, and loneliness. 

R spends most of the novel talking TO HIMSELF and coping with HOW TO BE ALONE. He is doing exactly what Chay is forced to do for survival: Create his own joy and entertainment. He’s abandoned by the world around him and must fight at every turn to maintain a sense of agency, all while desperately clinging to the idea that hope is everywhere. Here are some of my favorite Warm Bodies quotes for perspective:

“It frustrates and fascinates me that we'll never know for sure, that despite the best efforts of historians and scientists and poets, there are some things we'll just never know. What the first song sounded like. How it felt to see the first photograph. Who kissed the first kiss, and if it was any good.”

“What wonderful thing didn’t start out scary?”

“You should always be taking pictures, if not with a camera then with your mind. Memories you capture on purpose are always more vivid than the ones you pick up by accident.”

“’What's wrong with people?’ she says, almost too quiet for me to hear. ‘Were they born with parts missing or did it [love] fall out somewhere along the way?’“

“The sky is blue. The grass is green. The sun is warm on our skin. We smile, because this is how we save the world. We will not let Earth become a tomb, a mass grave spinning through space. We will exhume ourselves. We will fight the curse and break it.”

“Deep under our feet the Earth holds its molten breath, while the bones of countless generations watch us and wait.”

BUT THEN YOU HAVE THE NEW HUNGER.

“Nothing is permanent. Not even the end of the world.”

“Enough white lies can scorch the earth black.”

“What happened? How did I get here? How could I have known that my choices mattered?”

“Crying. Expelling grief from the body in the form of salt water. What's its purpose? How did it evolve, and why are humans the only creatures on Earth that do it?”

He has not reached the point of exhumation yet. 

Porchay must first be burned down. He must experience the hopelessness, loss, and devastation of betrayal first. 

Like yeah, sure, this is a throwaway shot and someone on the set probably grabbed a handful of random books to use but HOLY FUCK they really could not have made a better (potentially) accidental choice!

Like... Jesus Christ in Heat do I love these books more than life itself. Warm Bodies is my second favorite book of all time and again, I read books for a living. You should go check them out if you like romance, comedy, zombies, or really just feeling good about the end of a novel. Isaac Marion will fundamentally change your life and the way you look at the world and it’s a wonderful experience.

But also the accidental foreshadowing of Porchay’s world being burnt up... of his memories being tainted and blackened by Kim’s lying and Porsche’s secrecy... Ugh it hurts. I am having some feelings in this Chili’s tonight. 

[catty-words]

i’ve made no secret of the fact that nhie season two nearly single-handedly demolished my deep, abiding love for - or, less dramatically, my minute-by-minute gleeful enjoyment of - the show, but i’m in an ongoing struggle to articulate to myself why exactly that’s the case.

i mean, there is, of course, the way the season handles devi’s agency, with her largely being a victim of circumstance rather than a character making terrible-if-sympathetic choices. the ‘devi abandons her friends when they need her most the second she’s acknowledged by paxton’ vs. ‘devi running her mouth and revealing a secret about aneesa that she didn’t even know was true in the first place’ dichotomy. even the act of dating ben and paxton at the same time is written with such incidental, ‘oh no, this is all so fast’ energy where devi’s concerned, that the storyline is nearly robbed of all characterization intrigue it held because the writing manages to make it feel more like an accident than a choice.

given how important devi’s agency is to the themes of the show, the fact that season two mishandles it so monumentally is honestly a satisfactory enough explanation for why season two irks me the way it does, yet my brain continues to puzzle. and, so long as you’re already indulging me this rant, i think i unlocked something tonight that’s essential to both my discontent with season two and my developing thesis that season three is the rightful continuation of season one: season two messes with paxton and ben’s roles in the triangle in a way that confuses the emotional gravity of devi’s grief.

at this point, it’s well-covered ground here on catty-words dot tumblr dot com, but for the sake of thoroughness, let’s establish what those roles are. paxton is devi’s escapism, ben is devi’s accountability. paxton’s attention offers devi the chance to be the normal girl who’s so hot and cool, it doesn’t even matter that she ever found herself wheelchair-bound in devastation. ben’s attention forces devi to reckon with hard, unflattering truths about herself that she cannot simply rebrand away, to the point where he plays a major role in devi overcoming her denial of her dad’s death.

and this should not be read as a value-judgement on who’s the better romantic interest for her. once again, if you’ve been following me for any length of time, you know i have my preference, but also that i find both relationships narratively rich, swoon-worthy, and important to devi’s development. she needs both the escapism and the accountability to process her grief; there’s a time and place for each.

season three honors these roles by interrogating how it makes devi feel to date a paragon of her own creation (spoiler alert: it makes her feel the need to escape into a different relationship even further removed from the grieving freak she feels herself to be) and by restoring ben as a constant source of tender advice dressed up in snide remarks.

season two, on the other hand, tries casting ben as the unattainable dream, with all his ‘one that got away’ energy and his placement off in the background giggling with aneesa, and paxton as the snide remarker, with all his anger over devi messing up his swimming career (another incidental circumstance, not one that devi manufactured in any meaningful way).

which is not to say the boys absolutely have to be married to their roles - they can and should grow and change as the story requires - but abandoning them entirely when season one had such a strong sense of their purpose does necessarily give season two tonal dissonance.

and, more importantly, the triangle becomes a less useful, far murkier mirror in which devi’s grief can be reflected back to her. mohan’s voicemail becomes the centerfold of devi’s identity (i.e. casting devi as mohan’s ‘perfect girl’ and forcing her to reckon with all the ways she’s failing to live up to that) as well as the escape from her messy life when she gets too stressed. and frankly, having the one manifestation of devi’s grief for the season filling ben and paxton’s season one roles while season two ben and paxton create bland, teen-romance-driven problems in devi’s life is the shittiest possible iteration of both the otherwise complex, well-balanced love triangle and the story of devi’s grief.

the season takes the beating heart of the whole freaking show - devi having to process the death of her father - and makes it feel very one-note. it also robs the love triangle of its profundity; the boys aren’t there to represent the paths devi can take to heal and grow, the three of them are just being kinda shitty to each other for the sake of drama.

[eunchancorner]

OK SO

First things first!

THIS is my wonderful little baby Rara!

Her name is just the first syllable of racoon repeated. She has wereracoonism that she CAN’T SEEM TO TRANSMIT TO ANYONE NO MATTER HOW HARD SHE TRIES. It affects her in more ways than just transformation, though. It has permanently altered her brain chemistry to the point where she acts like an actual feral animal, complete with digging through the trash, being absolutely mesmerized by shiny trinkets and being scarily good at stealth.

She will absolutely maim anyone she comes into contact with…

Except for Dexter.

And for some reason, no matter how much he tries, he can’t seem to bring himself to harm her. Almost like some part of him knows that without him, she’d likely bite someone, end up in jail, start a prison riot and get killed.

He’s also found out the hard way that she doesn’t do vaccines.

The second thing (Candy Kevin backstory fic) is under the cut :3

Screaming.

Pain.

Fear.

All of these things were what Kevin was accustomed to.

Ever since he’d signed himself into this experiment in a desperate attempt to make rent, ever since he was brought to this weird fucking lab, it was all he knew.

He’d wanted to escape, but the scientists would tell him what would happen if he was in the public. Something he’d been forced to forget for ‘his own good’.

”They’ll eat you, Kevin. It’ll feel ten times worse than this…”

“They’ll lock you up, they’ll use your blood as syrup. After all, that’s what it is now, isn’t it?”

“They’ll brand you a monster. Lock you up, treat you like livestock.”

“You’re not human anymore, Kevin. What makes you think they’ll treat you as such?”

He’d listen to them. He’d believe them. If he couldn’t depend on the people who literally handled his body on a daily basis, who could he depend on? It wasn’t like he had a choice. He’d signed the contract. He’d gotten himself into this mess, besides, they wouldn’t just abandon him on the side of the road, right?

Well, funny story, that’s essentially what they did. More accurately, they sedated him before dumping him behind the facility, only having used him to prove a point, never for any scientific value. Dumping him, and all of the memories. All of the trauma.

All of the screaming.

All of the pain.

All of the fear.

And all of the rage.

And he knew he wasn’t the only one in that facility. Late at night, when they thought he was asleep, he’d hear the screams of fellow test subjects. Of others tortured for the scientists’ own egos. He’d never been able to count how many, he just knew he wasn’t alone, not by a long shot.

He should have suspected it would come to this. To the facility burning down around him. To the other test subjects rebelling. To the destruction of every single damn experiment in this lab.

But it wasn’t like he expected. He hadn’t seen anyone come rushing out, before or after the initial explosion. He hadn’t seen any living person in the burning wreckage, and he was sure he’d notice if someone escaped.

Maybe the explosion was too big. Maybe they were too close. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe they’d acted as suicide bombers.

Whatever they’d done, it worked. The facility crumbled around him like a hollow cake, everything that was flammable was flaming, everything that was meltable was melting. It hurt to be so close to it, but at the same time, he was unable to draw himself away.

So what was he supposed to feel? Happy it was over? Satisfied they were gone? Jealous that he wasn’t the one to do it? Upset that it seemed few of them suffered?

Some part of him felt everything at once… but another part of him, a part of him that he would gladly cut away if he could, felt grief at the loss of the people who’d basically taken care of him for all of this time. Was it all of these contradicting feelings, or was it the alterations to his brain…?

What made him feel so numb above all else? What made every feeling so small in this moment?

Maybe it was just shock that it was all over… Maybe it was his brain trying to cope with all of this. Maybe he shouldn’t question it, lest he find a different, more horrifying answer…

He let his gaze wander around the facility as he snapped out of the daze he’d found himself in. Burning wood, burning bodies, burning dreams of scientists who never got to plead for redemption, of test subjects who’d forgotten the outside world. Smoke thicker than his candied blood filled the air. His lungs would be burning if he still had proper use of them. He felt hot, sticky, pained. He couldn’t tell if he was sweating or if his skin was just melting. He would’ve taken a deep breath if he had use for one, but all he could smell was his own sugary scent. 

Slowly, he sat down in the center of the wreckage, staring up at the fire in the center of the facility, behind thick walls and broken windows. He had half a mind to just stay here. Let it swallow him up. Become one with everything he used to feel part of. But he knew he’d leave. He knew he’d run. He knew he’d try to find a place to stay, or someone to help. But for now he’d stay here. With the fire. With the memories. And with everything he knew from before.

All of the screaming.

All of the pain.

And all of the fear.

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

So, it's eh- complicated.

Trust me, shit's not on fire, but I have more contact to Luddick than I ever wanted, I found the Strahov and I know how to get there. I'm still not sold on blackmailing the reporter since he got caught in this...unfortunate mess on accident, but I have no choice. And I will surely not get back to Paris without solving this mystery. I am locked in my hotel room and shoved the cupboard in front of the door and shut the blinds. Hello paranoia!

Transcript of the first and second page: I contacted Luddick and it went as expected, he's furious over my threat and I really did not intend to upset him this way. But do I have a choice? He said he would call me, I will wait until he does so. He did, and fed me information that can be considered secret shit again.

What I gathered in the call: - Vasiley had ties to the Madia and owned something they wanted. They "set the Montrum on him" - The corpse was not to be found since said mafia cleaned all uo and the evidence is mostly gone - (in the middle of his gibberish I suggested to myself to look for the woman who talked to him for infromation) - He knows who Bouchard is, mot much detail, and is oblivious to his death - aaand I should never call him again and the Strahov won't let me in anyway.

What I gathered is not much, but it raises -of course- even more questions. New information is that if the Monstrum was set on Vasiley it was an assassination, and I think I know now the Monstrum is related to Eckhardt for sure, and the woman he talked to has to be Lara Croft, who he probably got into the Strahov. New questions that have risen are how to get into the Strahov without raising suspicion and if the mafia-plot is a cover up for The Agency or are they the same or related? That would tie all to Eckhardt. There's supposedly a Sanitarium in or close to the Strahov, is that my way in? And, Boaz might have had her own place to work at, but did her coworker Grant Muller, too? Is there a botanical research facility?

Transcript of the third page:

Hahaha, you won't beleive it, even if I teleported you to see for yourself. The oldest Sanitarium in Prague is located UNDER the STRAHOV. I don't think that's a coincidence. So there's of course not much to fing on the whole building, who operated it or what the institution behind it was; all I got is this:

it's not even 23 years old, yet was abandoned and it not used anymore

it was built by an unknown party, yet financed by the Argentinian government (Boaz!)

it used to be a place to stay, including a cafeteria, rooms for entertainment, a medical facility and a research area

there were not only Czech people there

it has 8 floors, all being cellars and the eighth is the lowest, where the people lived

there's even a pool for swimming classes

and after an incident it was shut down and never oficially used again.

So it's...a lost place, right?

Transcript of the fourth, fifth and sixth page:

There used to be several parts of the institute that were used accordingly. The overview is as follows:

Dining Room; used as a cafeteria. All patients were to gather and eat together. The food was usually something easy to process and handed by the staff. The tables were for groups only, so no one would be left out. Laboratory; Filled with a lot of paperwork and shelves with information. The patients which required therapy in person were talked to and the notes were analyzed for better treatment. The files were printed (back then that was cool) and categorized. Also, the individual prescription of any of each person was noted among the process of their recovery. Testing Room; A room to evaluate a patient's condition and character. There was a lie detector to not allow contradictory information on the patient's condition, as a huge amount of information on their health is gathered as today via person-to-person evalation. Acupuncture Room; A place to relax and get some Chinese acupuncture. In a lot of medical conditions it is known to bring relief without actual pharmaceutical drugs. The patient would lie on a bed or semi-bed and relax, then one would select the place according to the pain on the body and get punctured by needles. Sometimes the relief came immediately, sometimes one had to redo the treatment every so often. Acupuncture is known to be relatively gentle to the body and psyche. Morgue; When people lived int he Sanitarium and died due to age, rarely due to illness, they were kept int he morgue after death. It's basically a lot of fridges on the wall where bodies are kept fresh until a pathologist would check on the cause of death. Later an undertaler would be called to pick up the dead and contact the family to schedule the burial.

So far, so normal. Not sure if all of the 8 floors contain the same rooms or if they have more specializted floors that have all of the basic rooms. There used to be a visitor's entry which is now closed, you can only enter if you pass the Strahov. Great. I have to find another way...what if there os another way in? I need to check if Muller has his own facility, liek Boaz apparently did. They surely wouldn't use the same place. Could this have been hers?

Transcript of the seventh and eighth page:

I have tried to get in touch with Luddick again, but he doesn't answer. He has yet to update his socials and there is no new article or post by him. It's been a day and a talkative guy like him would not just disappear. He'd love to yell at me at the phone. Where the hell is he? I have aquired an ID for the medical center (which is being sold at the black market for urban exlorers) which should open me ways in, shouldn't it? I sketched a map of the center and my plan to get in, in case the doors are still to be used. If not, I might have to use force, or...something.

My path so far: I'll try to get in and update my way.

UPDATE 1: I just had to cross some loosely made barricades. The doors to the reception room were open. UPDATE 2: My security card worked! It's such a silly thing to say, but it opened. I'm pretty sure this is part of the urban exploring. I'm heading downstairs and there's dust and spiders everywhere. They surely made this look cool. UPDATE 3: I could use the lift, and I prayed to five different deities since this place is running on stolen electricity from somwhere. There was a door labled "The Biodome", I'm still contemplating whether or not to use the lift further down. I stopped since it started making weird noises. UPDATE 4: The electricity is down! I have no idea if that was my mistake. Thank god I haven't t puched the lift again, but I also cannot go back now. I mean...this place is being explored usually, so someone will find me, even if I cannot use the lift now. But maybe the Biodome is the place I'm looking for?

I can hear nothing specifically, it feels like the room after the door is enormously large. Sometimes I think leaves are rustling? I'm contemplating moving further in, or starting to panic and scream my lungs out. But if the Strahov is near I might as well be shot on sight.

Yeah, I'm eating a cereal bar and considering my options. I wish I had someone to talk to. It's getting lonely here.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 26 JON III (pages 355-366)

"You know nothing, Jon Snow." - Ygritte, Mother of Memes

Jon and the wildlings prepare to cross the wall, Ygritte finds a cave with secret tunnels galore and lore.

The Reader thinks they should be allowed to take certain 'romantic tropes' away from some authors, and warns drinking game players to switch to non-alcoholics again. I know one thing, Jon Snow: alcohol poisoning is bad for you.

-

... Ygritte reconfirming that Jon basically wildling proposed to her, even accidentally and I spent five minutes staring into space on a mental tangent. Modern AU, the boys are at a pub, and Sam is nervous about proposing to Gilly, and Jon's not being much help, he's a few beers in and his advice is all "just do it." Sam's all "but how???" So Jon gets up, "like this," he says, steps over to a young lady nearby, grabs her attention, drops to his knees and proposes to her. She pauses, then "oh my gosh yes!" And the entire pub breaks into cheers. Someone was filming unrelated tiktok shit and the clip of the "proposal" goes viral. Meanwhile, Ygritte is introducing herself to Jon and joining his table because there's a bloke she's trying to avoid lurking elsewhere in the pub. Shenanigans, misunderstanding, and friendships ensue. Several years later, Jon proposes in the same pub but for realsies. Sam managed to propose to Gilly by accident while he was attempting to explain the Jon/Ygritte proposal that has lead to their fake-dating rom-com.

Sorry, super tired tonight. Focusing, Let's Go!

(Legit though, Book!Ygritte ignoring Jon's clear attempts to shut that shit down in the previous chapter really do colour this relationship in a bad light, unfortunately, between the canon accidental proposal and the sheer number of times I've seen this same/similar set up in someone chasing someone else to the point of stalking and having it framed as romantic by the narrative, especially by male writers who seem to have a secret to desire to be considered that desirable no matter how much of a piece of trash they are or how often they (their character) reject affection it is still offered to them (their character), to (by proxy) live out the fantasy of someone wanting them no matter how they behave because they can't just contextualise being desired in a normal or healthy way... where was I going with this? ... oh right: I've seen this relationship redflag played for laughs so often it's become background noise which is perhaps the most terrifying thing about it as a recurring trope.)

... Focusing for realsies, Let's Go!

I have no choice, he'd told himself the first time, when she slipped beneath his sleeping skins. ... A part, he tried to remind himself afterward. I'm playing a part.

yeah, see, the problem with written word is that there's only so much context regarding tone.

I could honestly read this internal dialogue as either "Jon's trying to cope with being coerced into sex he genuinely didn't want, attempting to justify and rationalise what happened so he doesn't have to face the idea that he was raped" or "Jon's looking for excuses to justify doing it, because he genuinely wanted to, but he didn't want to admit that he had abandoned his oaths so readily when he's spent so much of his life convinced he wouldn't be swayed by sexual interest."

Cause on the one hand: this series doesn't shy away from various form of sexual abuse, but on the other hand, I have way too often seen this type of scenario written in basically the same way, and the author thinking it is genuinely healthy and romantic.

Which one did GRRM mean? I don't know and it bothers me.

... Ah, and there's "you know nothing Jon Snow" back for sex joke meme purposes.

...teenage hormones, the true foe of the Stark household.

... Arson Iceaxe sounds like the online handle of a 12 year old edgelord.

... and meme'd again. Is this the chapter where GRRM subconsciously sensed "you know nothing, Jon Snow" would one day become a meme? should I add it to the drinking game list, do you think? things I add to the list seem to bugger off more quickly once they're on... except for Lemons in that one Arya chapter... (I've collated the list at the bottom of the post.)

"- There are hundreds o' caves in these hills, and deep down they all connect. There's even a way under your wall. Gorne's way."

Oh? And will that be playing a role at a later date, or is this just more flavour text?

"The way under the Wall was lost as well?" "Some have searched for it. The that go too deep find Gendel's children, and Gendel's children are always hungry. (...) There's naught to east in the dark but flesh."

Cave cannibals. awesome. I think I saw that episode of Supernatural. Oh but legit, Cave Cannibals would be so terrifying. Like that movie, The Descent? I think it was called.

🎶Secret Tunnel🎶Secret Tunnel🎶Under the ice Wall🎶secret secret secret secret tunnel!🎶 uhhh, then it goes... uhmmm... oh right 🎶AND DIEEEEEEE🎶

"He's of my village. You know nothing, Jon Snow. A true man steals a woman from afar, t' strengthen the clan. Women who bed brothers or fathers or clan kin offend the gods, and are cursed with weak and sickly children. Even monsters."

Wildlings and old gods not into incest, and understand the correlation between inbreeding and the genetic degradation caused by inbreeding.

Yet more people smarter than Cersei and Jaime.

His guilt came back afterward, but weaker than before. If this is so wrong, he wondered, why did the gods make it feel so good?

I have a sinking feeling, I know which interpretation GRRM was going for.

*casually kicks GRRM out a window onto a safety net below* You live only because we still await the Winds of Winter.

Well, at least Jon feels some shame over breaking his oaths. Unlike Robb.

Drinking Meme Game:

"-There now, there now, yes, sweet, sweet. You know nothing, Jon Snow, but I can show you. -" ... "A dead end?" "You know nothing, Jon Snow, It went on and on and on. -" ... "- He died as well." "You know nothing, Jon Snow. Gendel did not die. -" ... "You're older than me." "Aye, and wiser. You know nothing, Jon Snow." ... "If you want to look, you have to show. You know nothing, Jon Snow." ... "You know nothing, Jon Snow. Noth-oh. Oh. OHHH." ... "He's of my village. You know nothing, Jon Snow. A true man steals a woman from afar, t' strengthen the clan. -" ... "- I thought you'd know to pluck me then for certain, but you didn't. You know nothing, Jon Snow." She gave him a shy smile. "You might be learning some, though."

You know nothing, Jon Snow = 8 x 🧋

[vega-tenala]

Their faces were pleading. Hopeful, even.

You sat back in your chair across from them in the coffee shop, your biological mother had a soft expression. She wanted you to come home, to come back. They didn't mean it, about kicking you out when you didn't develop powers on time.

Apparently.

You biological mother could lift tons. Your biological father could run as fast as light. Your Sister could teleport, and your little brother could command the air. All by their early teens. A sixteen year old without powers, in a family of supers, was at best a fluke, at worst a stain.

So when you were left on your lonesome, kicked out for being a stain on their name, you were taken in by a family friend. Ms Star, a Super with several superpowers. A rare thing, but she could fly, she was invulnerable, was strong and she was fast. She was the hero everyone looked up to. Even you. So when she offered to take you in, how could you refuse?

It was after you graduated University that the changes occurred. You had just gotten a degree in bioscience and it was raining when you realized that you weren't getting wet. When you felt the water pool at your finger tips. You had looked at your hand and watched a ball of water form as you thought about how cool that could be before it splashed to the ground.

Then you had accidently put your hand on the hot stove, not that you knew it was hot until your mom was pulling your hand off and looking to see what aid was needed, only to find that your hand was just fine and wasn't covered in burns. Curious, and before she could stop you, you put it down on the hot stove again. And nothing happened.

You had been scuba diving when your oxygen tank ruptured. You hadn't noticed until you were back on the boat what must have been hours later.

It was when you were witness to a mugging down the street that something more obvious occurred. Because as the mugger when running away, you were there to grab him and slam him into a wall with more speed and strength that you, who should be powerless, should be able to manage.

It was then you spoke to your mom, and she took you to see Mr Mind that the full extent of your powers were discovered.

She gave you the choice, then and there, of what path you wanted to take. Become a hero, or just continue on. A power dampener if you wanted it even, to live normally.

But as a wise man once said. With great power, comes great responsibility.

From there, it wasn't long until word got out.

Now here you were. The strongest in the world, and the family that didn't want you.

"You...kicked me out." You started softly. "You didn't want me."

"Oh darling, sweetheart. We didn't know who you would become...." Your mother said, again so full of hope. "We didn't realize that you would be so...not...useless."

You hated the tone.

"So now that I developed my powers, I'm what...good enough?" You asked.

"You have to understand son-" your father began "-we had to protect ourselves and your siblings. That sort of weakness makes us look bad. It makes us look like there is something wrong."

"Well clearly there wasn't." You respond dryly. "But even if I did present on time, your love only goes so far. Star took me in, raised me, helped me. She didn't care if I had powers or not. She did your job."

You saw your mother frown while your fathers expression turn angry. Your siblings just looked like they wanted to leave.

"And if you hadn't presented at all, but we let you stay we would have been pariahs-"

"Star isn't for taking me in. You couldn't handle someone being different from you, so instead of being understanding you decided that the problem wasn't yours. A parent is supposed to be there for you no matter what. Instead you abandoned me. So don't worry, problem solved...I'm not your son." You spat. "You made sure of that yourselves.

You were abandoned by your family for not having superpowers. The strongest superheroine adopts you and loves you as her son regardless. When you finally have superpowers, your former family wants you back but you don’t want to do anything with them.

[aquiescentraconteur]

Honesty is the best policy.

My darling girl,

I am one proud person. I know, Pride & Prejudice is no accident.

I pride myself in many things, many of which are personal accomplishments registered inside my heart – the moment I got to surpass certain fears, or that heartwarming compliment someone has given me. One of the things I’m good, but not excellent at, is being honest. I tend to hide and disguise a lot, I tend to use a façade with those who know me well. I love people to the extent that I never want them to worry, which is why being honest about difficulties and negative parts of my life is hard.

I intend to stop that part of my functioning; I want to acknowledge humanity and celebrate overcoming our own personal hells. As a way to achieve that, I’m beginning to be more honest with myself and others. I want you to know people are fragile, they break, me included. I never want you to feel like you can’t have bad moments or that you can’t talk about them, to me or anyone else. Transparency is something my parents taught me and I intend on keeping the lesson.

I’ve been learning about this healing process, which starts with the following list of questions and problems:

(Don't get me wrong, they remain unanswered but they're helping me think!)

Intrusive thoughts: I noticed I tend to overthink, not only to overthink but to do it through a negative lens. I’m a positivist who has very degrading and self-loathing thoughts. Some people say I have abandonment issues because I abandon myself repeatedly. Can’t say they’re wrong there… There are also self-esteem and core-centered beliefs I know were constructed and related to my inner child. Those thoughts are becoming a bigger impairment with time, there are days they completely take over. Those are the days I self-isolate the most, avoiding anyone who can see through me and simultaneously wishing someone would. I’ve been having good conversations that have sort of helped me in this, with myself and with others like me (psychologists). It’s no news that I’m not the most confident girl in the world, but lately, that has become a problem. Some argue that it’s because I don’t love myself – I’m not sure about this. I like myself but I do not protect myself. A friend told me I need to be cognitively aware; I already know that it doesn’t make them go away. It only kills them after they’ve arrived and has set my mood into a darker tone.

How someone treats you Vs. how you feel about them: this was only a random memo I thought about. I ‘over-love’, according to my mom. I know selfishness isn’t my strength. I’m starting to wonder if it ever will be.

What is going to help on the long hall? What wrongful choices am I making that harm my development? I know I succumb to momentary wimps and wishes. I can’t say no when pleasure presents itself on a platter. I can’t say no to emotional satisfaction. I’m a whore for emotional passion and psychological love. How the fuck do I get out of this? I’m addicted to that belly-aching feeling, the pitch burning on your throat whenever you look into someone’s eyes and wish they kiss the living daylights out of you. How do you turn your back to the possibility of feeling your heart pacing as if it’s rushing home?

Maybe I should remember number 2 here, maybe that’s a pretty good strategy.

4. How does one heal?

5. What are my expectations and what is the reality of them? I had a fairytale life, in my perception of it at least. I guess I grew up wishing people would be like an enchanted character from a Disney movie, the perfect guy, the ‘out of this world’ friend. People aren’t fictional, they will never care and live according to this stupid idea of enchantment, I realize that now. This doesn’t mean I’ll lower rushed expectations, but I’ll think about them and I’ll try and be more aware of it.

6. What they say vs. what they do. I guess this one speaks for itself. It’s more of a mental note. Maybe I should tattoo it, on my forehead. I keep forgetting this until he proves me wrong and reminds me, I need to have this imprinted on my heart.

My beautiful baby girl, this bond I decided to create with you should never be an obligation or something you perceive as scary. You don’t even need to read this garbage, I thought it might help, if it doesn’t, I’m pretty sure we have a paper shredder somewhere.

Love,

Mom, September 22th 2023

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

afraid to die and afraid to live.

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/zNbE0Wt by Scorched_Willow Damian tended to have a multitude of choices within the League. Between what form of fighting to practice, what magic to study that day, Damian was spoiled rotten with choices. Should Mother ask for something it had to be done. When Mother asked that Damian packed a bag, he did. When Mother asked that he board a plane, he did. When Mother asked him to get off the plane without her he did. When he found a note with an address and a name, he knew what his mother wanted of him, and did it. aka damian wayne is a fucking cat, okay? Words: 1130, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Alfred Pennyworth, Talia al Ghul (mentioned), Stephanie Brown Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Jason Todd, Talia al Ghul & Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Damian Wayne Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne-centric, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson Being a Little Shit, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Talia al Ghul Tries, jason todd aint here yet but when he is, uh oh, Magic, Witchcraft, how else do i say that theres magic, Tim Drake is there, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne Bonding, at some point, Dick Grayson Loves Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne Loves Dick Grayson, IN A PLATONIC WAY YOU LITTLE SHITS, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Damian Wayne Has Abandonment Issues, Autistic Damian Wayne, its not talked about but i also have autism and accidently wrote him like i would talk read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/zNbE0Wt

[nightdreamdaymare]

12/18/2020

Break my soul in two 

Looking for you but you're right here 

>> Looking for you in every partner I’ve had since you, wanting your love and affection from others who can’t/wont give it to me, because they’re not you. Feeling as if no one has ever really “seen” me. Feeling like I’m always in two places at once. 

If I can't relate to you anymore

Then who am I related to?

>> Knowing you is a knowing deeper than I’ve experienced with anyone else, it is beautiful and dangerous what I become with and without you.

And if this is the long haul

How'd we get here so soon?

>> seven years, too long and too soon, so much has happened over the years. 

Did I close my fist around something delicate?

Did I shatter you?

>> I know she’s probably saying this out of spite, but for me it’s an honest statement of something I omitted for a long time, at least in the beginning years. 

And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island wondering where did my baby go?

>> Reminds me of plastic cups of wine in the sand, or up on the rooftop looking at the moon, or the sidewalk under the light, and when I’ve gone to my ocean I think about us during in-between times, wondering what you’re doing and if you’re happy. 

The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go

>> The dog days of Blue Rock, and Studio Sharise, and the late night karaoke. 

Sorry for not making you my centerfold

Over and over

>> This is a nod to acknowledging not making you my priority when I should have, not choosing you when I should have, and the hurt that I’ve caused you while being with others, and through the years. 

Lost again with no surprises

Disappointments, close your eyes

And it gets colder and colder

When the sun goes down

>> Sunsets render only to sunrise- making the same mistakes over and over again, being disappointed and wondering why things with others didn’t work out and it’s never really a surprise. As long as we are in each others lives, we have unfinished business that we need to work through and settle. 

The question pounds my head

"What's a lifetime of achievement?”

>> I’m always worried about the future, and security, because I’ve never had it. And even when I realized I was with someone that did have the money, or the sense of security or knowing someone wouldn’t abandon me it never mattered at the end of the day, because they couldn’t nurture me in the ways I need, the way that you not only understand me at my core, but love and support and nurture the good, and recognize and accept my downfalls. Living in a big house isn’t worth it if it’s empty. 

If I pushed you to the edge

But you were too polite to leave me

>>You have always had the right to walk away and never look back, I am undeserving of the time you have given me. 

And do you miss the rogue

Who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?

>> This reminds me of our early days, it was heavy and velvet, we loved each other and hurt each other too much.

Will you forgive my soul

When you're…

Over and over

Lost again with no surprises

Disappointments, close your eyes

And it gets colder and colder

When the sun goes down

>> This is a nod to the past two years, not fully learning lessons and making decisions that literally almost killed me.

Were you waiting at our old spot

In the tree line by the gold clock

Did I leave you hanging every single day?

Were you standing in the hallway

With a big cake, happy birthday

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray?

A universe away

>> “Falling and missing, you” When we’ve showed up in each others lives time after time, although with no malintent we have brought chaos into each others lives and hurt not only each other but our other partners. 

And when I got into the accident

The sight that flashed before me was your face

But when I walked up to the podium

I think that I forgot to say your name

>> Knowing in my heart, time after time that it’s always been you, but when faced with a choice, remaining silent every time. “again, you with just enough wine, to stand at the precipice, with just enough, to stand there.”

I'm on a bench in Coney Island wondering where did my baby go?

The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go

Sorry for not making you my centerfold

Over and over

Lost again with no surprises

Disappointments, close your eyes

And it gets colder and colder

When the sun goes down

When the sun goes down

The sight that flashed before me was your face

When the sun goes down

But I think that I forgot to say your name

Over and over

Sorry for not making you my

Making you my

Making you my centerfold

>> To fall, one must jump, and I’ve always had one foot cemented in the ground. 

[starsallalight]

Sonya's ire had always been like a match. It could be hard to strike, and once finally sparked, the flame soon burnt itself out. Even when she wanted to cling to it with all her might, anger just wasn't in her nature. The same with grudges. They did little but let resentment and other emotions she had no aptitude to sort out, or energy to manage, fester. Anger had no use to her so it served no place in her life.

She would never forgive Vera, Nikolai, or Natalia. Even Ilya... There were far too many hurts built up over a lifetime to forget or forgive. The loss, no... The theft of her son was just the final straw. But what good did remaining angry do in the end? She could have blamed them all for her getting into the accident in the first place. But it wouldn't have brought her son back from the dead. She could scream and yell and let everything she'd ever suppressed out now. But it wouldn't give her back the decade she'd lost. The only thing that mattered now, the only useful thing to turn to, was finding her son. If she could turn her attention to that, she could find a way to cope. If she had nothing to work toward, nothing to focus on, that was when she'd fall apart at the seams. And she'd be unable to piece herself back together.

Sighing deeply, Sonya reached out to wrap her arms around Natasha. "I know, Natashenka. I know." She repeated as she caressed her cousin's golden curls.

The younger wonan may have had her moments, but Sonya knew it was her spoiled upbringing and teenage self-centeredness that made Natasha act as she had. She'd been young, after all. And Sonya herself was not free from youthful abandon... But of her whole family, only Natasha and poor Petya had ever tried to be better. With the boy now gone, she was all Sonya had. If not for her and Pierre, she had no idea where she'd be now.

It had been hard enough on her to be dragged away by Nikolai while Arseni was calling her name. For months, while her belly grew more and more rounded, she'd gone time and again to the place where they were supposed to meet, hoping that maybe he'd be there and take her away like he'd once offered. Eventually, Sonya had given up hope of ever finding Senya again. But their son needed her, and she would have moved heaven and earth for him. He became her whole world. Her very reason for breathing. It was that life inside her that made Sonya realize that she'd never been truly living. That she had to make a choice, or she was condemning her son to a life of suffocation and shadows as well. She should have known the Rostovs would never let go of their cash cow. They resented an unborn baby for taking her and her talent away. And that led to the argument that saw her storm out of the restaurant and into the path of that car...

"Are you sure? I don't want you to regret not being here to hold his hand. To say goodbye and tell him you love him one more time. If you prefer, you can stay until it's over. I can go to Paris myself and start searching. Then you and Pierre can come and join me."

No matter what, it wouldn't be right to take away a daughter's chance to be with her father at the end of his life. Sonya knew what it was to be forcibly parted from one's parents, sibling, love, and child. She had lost anyone that ever mattered to her. And she never would have wished it on anyone.

@amantesmultorum : Sonya & Natasha

"Let me go, Natasha!" Sonya bellowed, wrenching her arm free of her cousin's grasp. "I'm leaving!"

Never in her life had she felt so betrayed. Never before had she come so close to understanding what it meant when someone saw red. She didn't to return. She'd sworn after the accident that she would never speak to Nikolai and Natalia ever again. But her love for her uncle, and the desire to be there for Natasha, as she'd once been there for her, compelled her to go home. And she was glad she did, or else she never would have known the truth.

Nevertheless, her very body felt ready to explode from the sheer rage building up inside of her. And if she didn't leave now, she was bound to do something she'd regret.

"They lied to me! They stole everything from me! They took him and they lied to my face for ten years!" She continued to yell. "My son is alive. I'm going to Paris, and I'm not leaving until I find him. You can come with me, or you can stay. But I'm leaving. You won't stop me. None of you will. Not again."

[lupically]

#FFF8EA | XIAO. 

genre | fluff

word count | 2233

warning | mention of falling off a moutain​

note | i just have some ideas for xiao...

"the yaksha is fond of you."

madame ping was no stranger to you. the kind old lady roaming around yujing terrace, often seen admiring flowers or brewing a cup of hot tea, was someone you come across every afternoon after school when you head to the censor to make a wish to rex lapis.

the conversation you two have had always been brief, mainly because you were always in a hurry to get to work. she never minded your urgency, blissfully talking about how fast-paced and active young people these days are, and simply being happy that you even stopped to let her hand you some glazed lilies from time to time.

interestingly, though, she stopped giving you glazed lilies after a while and began handing you some pretty qingxin instead.

you never questioned it. it was just flowers. you could live without being gifted only one kind of them for the rest of your life. but after today's incident—after the burning down of your school located just outside the city, as well as what madame ping told you with hearty laughter laced in her voice, you were starting to think the switch to qingxin meant something.

"the yaksha is fond of you."

you tightened your hands around the weak strap of your school bag, made out of bamboo after lots of trials and errors, and you tilted your head with increasingly furrowing brows.

"pardon me, the what is fond of me?"

"the yaksha, my dear."

you stared at her. the corner of your lips was quirking up in confused twitches, and she could see that you were fiddling uncomfortably on your spot because you truly have no idea what she was talking about. it was not because of the history of the yaksha that might have made you feel jittery and out of place, you simply had no idea!

madame ping smiled even harder at your innocent oblivion then. how could you have such ample knowledge of rex lapis and the adepti, but nothing about the yaksha? especially the one with his mark, a jade green glow surrounding you like fireflies, all over your aura?

maybe that was why xiao chose you.

or, at least, it was one of the reasons why he liked you.

it was because you knew nothing of him. you never think about him, you never talk about him, and you would never suspect the string of random good luck and trails of safe travels that have been following you around.

while it must be tearing him down on the inside; the fact that he wasn't being able to approach the one person who made his good deeds a choice rather than an order. it must be plaguing his mind and patience every day.

but, even then, your surprising lack of information about his identity does save him the pressure of being chased down by you.

it saves him the problem of being even further attached to you. it was already pressing on his breaking point when he went out of his way to watch over you, leaving trails of his magic over your mortal soul to keep you safe when he was busy. any further interaction would be disastrous.

logically, he knew he would fall for you, so he was doing preventive measures. he has to keep his chest sealed so his heart wouldn't jump toward you involuntarily; he has to keep his chest sealed so you couldn't see all the mess inside.

"oh, sweet child," madame ping cooed as she walked toward you. she whispered to herself, "you're being protected by an adeptus and you don't even know."

she brought up a qingxin from her pocket, the petals slightly wrinkled from the confined space. she tucked it carefully in the pocket of your shirt before patting the bloomed flower, almost as if she was reminiscing.

"this is his flower," she said.

you hummed, looking down at it. "this is his favorite flower?"

"i'm not sure about his favorite flower, but this is his flower," she replied casually.

you pursed your lips together. well, at least now you knew the qingxin did have something to do with the... yaksha... or whatever.

"madame ping... may i ask–"

"you can find him at qingyun peak," she cut you off calmly. "during the lantern festival. he is always there during the festival. it was for the quiet, he said, that old man."

you shut your mouth, surprised that she knew what you wanted to ask. "uh... qingyun peak... is kind of... a big place..."

"you will find him if he wants to see you," she said. "you can speak his name–xiao. he might not show himself to you, but if you have something to say, he's likely there to listen."

qingyun peak. the lantern festival. the yaksha.

right.

that was how you found yourself bearing the freezing night cold with just a thin shirt and a ragged fabric wrapped and tied around your torso, your hands hurting from grabbing sharp edges and rough rocks, and your anxiety increasing with every jump that not only would the almond tofu in your bag fall, but you would as well.

as opposed to watching xinyan play for the lantern festival, being warm and cozy from the warm city lights and the tasty street food, and maybe even letting go of a lantern yourself after making a wish, you were here. you were alone, climbing mountains for a chance.

all for a random boy madame ping told you about! someone who was supposedly fond of you—if this xiao guy was so fond of you, he would have shown himself the first three times you called his name at the bottom of the mountain!

"fond of me–what a joke," you said through gritted teeth as you hoisted yourself up on a small ledge. "i'm going to kick his ass so hard when i find him."

you let yourself pant for a minute, regaining your stamina as you groggily accessed the higher peaks above you. your eyes squinted in dismay, but something inside you—the curiosity for the truth, as well as the longing for a friend, also the anger for playful revenge—urged you to keep going.

"he better eats the almond tofu i made," you muttered to yourself as you moved closer to the mountain. "i even picked some flowers... for him."

jump after jump, you were close to making it to the second ledge when suddenly, a slime jumped and appeared above you. it looked surprised, mirroring your expression, and as it prepared itself to attack you after seeing your hands move, it stopped when it saw you fumble about in the air before you began to fall further away from itself.

you had let yourself go. out of surprise, and an instinct to grab a weapon, your hands moved away from the edge and you fell.

your mind raced as the wind hit your face, your falling body heavy against the current that desperately tried to take you up from the ledge you just climbed up from. you would surely die from the impact if you drop. even without dropping down to the bottom, you would still suffer from a painful death.

was there something to do? how did this happen, you were doing fine! what should you do, what could you do? you were falling already—what was there to do now? anything, something?

"i–archons–" you heaved with the cold air, your lungs squeezing inside you with fear as tears began to drip out of your eyes.

anything? anybody?

xiao?

"you can speak his name. he might not show himself to you, but if you have something to say, he's likely there to listen."

"xi–" your voice broke for a millisecond when you could see the green grass approaching quickly. you squeezed your eyes shut, and your voice was louder than you have ever allowed it to be.

you called his name, loud and clear.

the first thing you felt was a lightning strike. you opened your eyes at the electric feeling to find a flash of green. it was bright, close and bright, in a way that was blinding. but then the tail broke into gentle fragments as a pair of arms circled your body to catch you from the fall.

one arm went around your waist, the other hand securely tightened itself around the back of your neck to keep it from breaking from the impact of his fast landing.

xiao growled under his breath when his feet struck the ground in a heavy blow. he pushed your head to his shoulder, shielding your face away from the soil that bounced upward as a result.

quietness ensued after a moment of calm. you took the moment to access the situation—you were fine. someone, likely xiao, saved you from the fall. you were fine.

he dropped onto the ground, sitting on the cold grass with your body pressed close to his, when he heard that you began to sob from the accident.

despite feeling awkward and unsure, he kept quiet and let you vent out the post-accident fear so you could slowly bring in the relief that you were still alive. but his quietness was unwelcomed when you suddenly curled your fist and hit him across the shoulder.

"screw you! why didn't you just answer me when i–when i was at the bottom of the moun–mountain! screw you!"

you blamed him and you hit his shoulder repeatedly. your weak fist was nothing compared to the pain he has endured in the past, but your cries cut through him like glass in the most seamless pattern when he realized he was part of the reason why you had to go through that traumatic experience.

if he had just jumped down from the peak when he heard you the first time, this would not have happened.

xiao looked at the empty spot before him. his golden eyes glowed with a softness that has long fallen into the abyss, forever gone and forever abandoned. but he brought it back out now because he cares about you, and he is, ultimately, attached to you, and he loves you.

"you're right," he said, holding you close to him. "i'm sorry."

ever since you discreetly left the almond tofu on the roof of the wangshu inn, your shy figure hunched over in an apologizing manner because you were told that you were giving food to an important, albeit weird, guest, and your blissfully ignorant words of encouragement as you told him to go out and explore the world, to give it a chance so he could find people he would like.

ever since then, he has loved you, in fragile and discreet ways, in unwavering and patient ways, in protective and caring ways.

"i love you, i'm sorry."

you stopped sobbing almost immediately, and he was afraid he might have said the wrong thing.

wasn't it what he was supposed to do? verr told him to speak his mind once. just be truthful with his feelings and nothing could go wrong. was he not supposed to show his affection blatantly, as he would his complaints and opinions?

"that... that is going a little too fast for me, xiao," you joked. "let's settle with appreciating each other for now."

he heard you laugh, causing the weight of his heart to drop, like finding lights in a fog, like seeing the lanterns in the night sky and realizing that there are more people alive with you than you think.

"thank you, for saving me," you said kindly then, your fist long stopped hitting him and was now patting his shoulder.

"always."

“but burning my school down is not the best approach for... whatever it was you were trying to help me with.”

xiao blinked in confusion, then realization hit him. he almost forgot about that! he was, shockingly, dwelling in the prideful fact that because he literally destroyed the building, you would be free of school for the day, and therefore not having to face all the hardships inside the walls he could not venture past. he thought it was the best thing to do, second to beating up everyone, which he politely opposed to.

“i am not sorry about that,” he muttered. “it was what i thought was best.”

he could feel you grin in his embrace. your laughter reverberated in the air, making his magic glow around you both. it was like nothing he has felt before. he wanted to stay like this—in this position where you were engulfed by him, where he could surround you with himself instead of the fireflies of green he has left behind, where he was with you in a way it was entire, in a way he could feel your beating heart against his own.

you are pressing onto his breaking point.

you are going to open him up, see him whole, and renovate his insides to your will. you are going to take his heart from his chest, breaking through his ribcage made feeble from his sheer affection for you, and claim it as your own. you are going to make him love, like sharp knives, like soft breaths, like tragic past, like warm blood, you are going to make him love.

you are pressing onto his breaking point.

and xiao lets you.

because you will be worth the tragedy, you will be worth everything.

[artzee-bee]

Not going anywhere | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer

Request:” Hi i have request for you ,Lucifer and the reader have a big fight they are married, and this fight it's lucifer fault The reader leaves home and Lucifer decides to give her space After a few days, he goes to the reader and realizes that she has been missing for a few days,When the person behind all this claims that the reader is dead and gives them a her body . Everyone thinks that the reader is dead and Lucifer He gets depressed and thinks it's all his fault , and after a few days, the thieves release the singer and the reader goes to Lucifer.Lucifer first thinks it is an imagination and then apologizes to the reader Thank you so much”

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: kidnapping, death

~~~

Your intention had never been to start a fight. All you wanted an explanation (preferably one that also made sense) and an apology, but apparently that was too much to ask, because as soon as you voiced your opinion, Lucifer went up in flames

“Don’t start this again!”

“I dislike it just as much as you do but what I hate more is being cancelled on, AGAIN, through a text message no less!”

“It was an emergency!”

“It’s always an emergency Lucifer! It’s starting to sound a lot like work means more to you than I do!” “The detective needs me, damn it!” your husband yelled

“And she has you! Every day of every week! All I ask for is one date night and for the past month you’ve done nothing but avoid committing to one or backing out at the last second! I’m tired of being your second choice Lucifer! I’m your wife and you are my husband, I love you to the ends of the world, I just wish you'd say no to Decker from time to time...”

“I’m saving people’s lives Y/N. So if you’re not on your deathbed, other people are and they need me now!” as he said this, Lucifer walked right past you and into your bedroom, seemingly ignorant to the painful words he’d just said. You looked around the living room, vision blurry with tears, your chest heavy with anger and disgust. You rushed towards the elevator.

“When you find time in your busy schedule and feel like being my spouse again, let me know!” the elevator door closed before Lucifer could say anything

~~~

When Lucifer woke up the next morning to a cold and empty bed, he didn’t think much of it.Truthfully, he was still kind of pissed at the attitude you had given him a day before, so he got dressed as usual and went to the precinct, assuming you’ll be home by nightfall.

Except when he got home that night, he stopped by Lux first, which ended up like it always does: with him sucked into an endless cycle of booze and dancing, that lasted until well into the night. When he did enter the penthouse eventually, he found it empty. Exactly the way he had left it in the morning. Even the tie he had left on the floor, after deciding last minute that it didn’t go with his suit, was untouched. Now this was curious, but still, Lucifer felt like you must be playing hard to get. He sent you one text message, before going to bed

“Call me when you can!”

The day after that, he figured his part was done! By reaching out first, he had already made a big compromise, so now it was your turn! To reach out, come home! But that didn’t happen that day, or the day after that.

Three days after the text message,Lucifer was getting worried. He was looking at his phone every other minute. Always making sure he hadn’t accidently put it on silent or missed any texts. He sent more messages, telling you he was sorry and that he wanted you to come home. That he would listen and spend more time with you, promising luxurious dates and weekend trips, if only you forgave him. You didn’t even open the messages.

“Lucifer are you listening?” Decker was insanely annoyed at her partner’s lack of concentration

“Sorry detective. I’ve...I’ve got a lot on my mind”

“Well, better get it out of the way now, so that we can move on to our case!” she said, cleaning out her desk quickly, before resting back into her chair “Talk to me!”

“It’s Y/N. I’m worried about her!”

“Why?” “We...had a fight a couple days ago and she left. She hasn’t come back since”

“Have you heard from her at all?”

“No…” Lucifer said, embarrassed at his own lack of care for you. He should have called you earlier, reached out more! He should have tried harder!

“How long had she been missing for?”

“4...maybe 5 days…”

“Lucifer, are you sane? And you’re only telling me now?!” Chloe jumped from her seat, turning on her computer

“I thought she needed space! I thought she was avoiding me intentionally cause she was angry! I didn’t know…” Lucifer choked back a sob, not wanting to break down in tears in the middle of the precinct

“Lucifer!” Chloe caught hold of his hand “I’m gonna find her! I promise you!” A few days later, she did. Well, more like Y/n came to her, in the shape of a pretty little gift box left on Decker's doorstep.

“A lil too late on your case detective” read the note attached to it. 

Inside were Y/N’s clothes, all of them stained with dark, dried blood. Y/N was declared dead that day and the case was closed. At her funeral, only her closests friends were present. Lucifer wanted it to be as intimate as possible.

That day was also the first time anyone had seen Lucifer, since the news. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles under his eyes almost matched the black suit he was wearing. Throughout the ceremony he kept twisting his wedding band, a habit he’d picked up on since you went missing. He chose not to do a speech, but once the crowd disappeared, and he was left face to face with your grave, he pulled out a little piece of paper from his pocket and sat down on the grass.

“In hell, everyone feared me. There, I was nothing but another server of the universe, ruling over an empire I never really wanted, because I never had a choice. So eventually I left, thinking anywhere will be better than what I had, and I came to earth.

I ran into you about 2 weeks later, before I really even knew how to behave myself. Before I knew anything about who I really was besides ‘the devil’. I longed to know, grow and discovers different sides of me, where I could be something new, and you gave it to me. You made me who I never thought I could possibly be. You made me a lover. I never thought of myself as capable to love anyone, in any degree, but your light shone everywhere you went and your kindness touched me and everyone around you. It became impossible to not get infatuated with your person. I allowed you to see and feel around every dark corner of my soul and being and every time I thought it was the end. Everytime I would take in your touch as if it was the last, I would prepare myself for abandonment, but it never came. Through everything you stood by my side and when I felt my darkest, you gave me a fistful of your light and that was enough to keep me going. You married a broken man and called him perfect, despite everyone telling you how much of a foul you were. Even then, you shooed them away. Even then you chose me. I wasn’t worthy of your love or your trust and our last night together proved it.

You’re not here anymore to hear my apologies and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You’ve gone now somewhere I can not follow, but I know you are well taken care of there. I hope, someway, somehow, you’ll hear these words: I am sorry. I loved you with my entire soul. Not listening to you was the biggest mistake of my life and I’ll never forgive myself. I choose however, to remember you as you were, because I know that’s what you’d want. I’ll remember you and your laugh.I’ll remember our date nights and shopping sprees. Nights in Lux or on the penthouse balcony. I’ll remember all the meals you prepared for me and the flirtatious remarks you used to make, because you thought they were so silly. I’ll remember the little frown on your face whenever you worked on an important project for work and I’ll remember every evening walk around the block you’d make me accompany you on. I know I always complained about them, but they were always fun. Everything I ever did with you was always fun.

I loved you. I still do. You are my everything Y/N. Thank you for devoting yourself to me in all the ways that you did. I’ll forever live on in my heart.“

~~~

It had been months since your disappearance. After all this time, you finally managed to escape your kidnappers and report them to the New York police station, since that’s where you had been held hostage for so long. As soon as the paperwork was done and you were sure that the people who ruined you were getting the punishment they deserved, you jumped on a train and headed straight back home. Straight to Lucifer.

Lux looked exactly the same as you had left it. You were washed over by a wave of comfort that almost brought you to tears. Home. You never thought you’d get to step in here again. Overwhelmed, you took a seat on one of the couches, allowing your head to rest back on it, as you took in every detail of your surroundings: the feel of the leather on your fingertips, the cool breeze of the air conditioning, the warm lights. Everything was still here.

“Y/N?” you jumped at the sound

“Hi love…” your voice broke as you said those words. Words you never thought you would be able to mutter again. The sight of your husband, messy as he was, made you weak in the knees. He was standing at the top of the staircase, dressed in nothing but his robe, tied carelessly around his waist. He had probably just woken up. You wanted to say something again, but before you could, he laughed

“Nope” he said simply, before making his way down the stairs and to the bar “I’m not doing this. Not today, not ever!” Lucifer filled his glass to the top with bourbon, before turning around and trying to leave back to where he came from

“Lucifer, it's me!”

“Sure you are, except you’re not real! Nice of dad, taking my ability to stay endlessly sober, getting me drunk, forcing visions of my dead wife onto me to teach me another lesson about managing my emotions. Real clever, except this is too much! So I’m going to enter that elevator and I expect to never have to see you again, hum? Right, well, au revoir now!” he continued on his way, but before he could get far, you were clutching on the silk tie of his robe. Lucifer felt the tug around his waist and turned around slowly to look at you, this time a little more unsure. As if he was trying to figure you out

“Lucifer, I’m Y/N. I escaped”

“Escaped? But that’s impossible, she died! I saw it-”

“What you saw was a bloody shirt!” he looked up to meet your gaze, tears already forming “They lied to you Lucifer”

Finally, it seemed like he had connected all of the pieces of the puzzle. The glass of alcohol fell to the ground and your husband wrapped you in a big hug for the first time in months. He nuzzled his head in your hair and took in your scent, your figure, your warmth. Hell, you were even more perfect that he remembered! Silent tears fell down both of your cheeks as you collapsed to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life

“I’m so sorry” Lucifer sobbed in your hair “I’m so so sorry”

“It wasn’t your fault Luci”

“If I hadn’t been a jerk you wouldn’t have left! If I would have simply listened to you, they wouldn’t have gotten to you! You would’ve stayed here, where you belong! You would have stayed with me but instead I was too busy with my stupid job and the stupid cases and I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” he continued crying on your shoulder as you rubbed small circles on his back

“I’m here now my love” you whispered, kissing his cheek “And I’m not going anywhere”