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hedonisthierophant · 4 years

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Unveiled eyes and bloodless lips -A skarsgard multiverse thing.

A universe of many Bills, a couple AHAs, and a few others.

@grandpa-sweaters You asked for fic with The Kid and instead I somehow came up with this monstrosity. I’m not sure if you’ve ever read my writing before but I’m sorry.

Dedicated to my literary soulmate @ill-skillsgard I hope you don’t hate it.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, gore, spit kink, cuckoldry, degradation, injury, death.

Unveiled eyes and bloodless lips

The witch had lost this game long before she even started playing, the final result such a foregone conclusion that it might be more accurate in fact to say she had lost before she had even been born. Forces much larger than her, to call them even titanic in scope would be an understatement, had been attending to the moves of the board since time immemorial. To say her fate such as it was had been decided back then is to grievously misstate the situation. Her exact destiny was fiercely contested on the board of play, it could’ve turned out completely differently, unfolding along anyone of the infinite myriad of paths of kismet. But her doom? That became inevitable she drew the attention of the game’s players. Naturally she remained unaware of the inescapable quality of her demise, she fought against it until the very last moment, her ferocious zeal, her skill and talent, all of it amounted to naught, For what hope does in an insect have against flood? Through no fault of her own, her perspective on this eons-long contest she had the misfortune of being prescribed to enter was…limited. In actuality the word “limited” doesn’t begin to convey the magnitude of her ignorance, imagine if you will placing your eye at a keyhole and attempting to catch a glimpse of a room darkened to pitch black. Some less astute souls might say that her involvement in the affair was rather like bringing a deaf person to the symphony but you dear reader know better, I should hope. Someone who cannot hear will have a different experience with music to be sure, but an experience they will have, the concepts on display remain within the realm of understanding. In our case a young woman became the toy of forces so far beyond her ken that she was to them as an amoeba might be to one of us beneath the prying lens of a microscope. As you may have surmised the tragedy that brings my voyeuristic audience to me unfolded slowly, spanning two lifetimes. Of course, this is only slow from the mortal point of view, to the beings that brought this about such a timeframe was less than the blink of an eye might be to us, for their machinations make glaciers seem to move with haste. Oh yes, they lack celerity but in exchange their actions carry the gravity of unquestionable certainty. However, I have indulged myself long enough. It is time that I recount, to the best of my ability the story which is brought you here today…whilst I remain able to do so.

Her mother was possessed of a nearly singular lack of the talent that had been at the disposal to members of her family as far back as records would go. She did retain the gift of foresight. In the hands of anyone else this boon guaranteed an interesting life, if not necessarily a good one. The ability to see the future meant that so much of the world could be bent to your whim, fortunes raised, mistakes avoided, enemies destroyed before they even had the opportunity to transgress. For her mother though the only thing her visions brought was infinite sadness. She was many months pregnant you see. The result of an impetuous liaison with an excitable and impassioned thief several years who junior who quite literally stumbled into her lap, betrayed by his gangly limbs at a luxurious hotel bar he happened to be casing. He must have absconded with a waiter’s uniform for nothing about his outfit fit his exquisitely lanky form properly. Remembering the bowtie that hung limply and sideways from his collar still brings a smile to her face. The knave proclaimed she was the love of his life, his goddess and that he would devote his life to securing her happiness. It was quite a scene the tableau made certainly more…unconventional due to the fact that she was celebrating her first wedding anniversary at and sitting directly across from her husband at the time. Their marriage had been mostly a business arrangement, not entirely loveless but more cordial than intimate, but she thinks she could have grown to love him for the smirk that wound its way across his face after the blubbering young would be waiter realized his presence. She recalls watching the scene like a member of the audience at the theater, her face impassive, one brow raised. Her husband had a reputation for an incredibly violent temper, if you ever witnessed it though but she could never convince herself to entirely discredit the rumors. Both she and the scoundrel were frozen, he in fear, she in surprise. Her husband stood up, declare that their food had been awful and they were taking the waiter as recompense. Her husband, she couldn’t stand the pain that thinking his name brought even all these years later. He had made his fortune as proprietor of the “last heir to the great circuses of old, the man was a showman to his core and could have sold sin to the most pious of people. Sitting in the stands watching that man bewitch everyone around her, she certain she could’ve learned to love him had she been given more time with him. Her brother-in-law put a stop to any happy fantasies she might’ve entertained though, fratricide had a way of casting a pall over such things. Death took him from her, but that night he had been so very alive. He threw the reprobate onto their sumptuous marriage bed and ordered her in a voice that was equal parts chilling and gleeful to fuck him within an inch of his life. She did, hips canting madly as she struggled to match the thief’s exuberance for all he was worth, she was the only thing that grounded him as he shuddered through orgasm after improbable orgasm. His soulful eyes stared up at her as though she had hung the stars. After one particularly fierce climax she turned to look at her husband across the darkened room for all the while he had been orchestrating the performance as though being its sole audience member also burdened him with the role of conductor, she may have been having extraordinary sex but for all that the two of them were just toys for her husband. He controlled them with such precision a note here, a whisper there, advice for the two of them ghosting across the room. He was a master puppeteer, they may have lacked physical strings but that did not stop him. He ruled over them with the same exactness he employed with his beloved elephants, compelling them through routines to astound and amaze basking in the dazzled worship of the onlookers. That night though, he was taking full advantage of being the only onlooker. She still remembers the manic smile on his face and how his hair looked like flame in the moonlight spilling through the window as hysterical (euphoric) laughter echoed off the walls of their manor, as though her husband were the only one in on some wonderfully hilarious joke of cosmic proportions. Looking back on it, he may well have been. Following their final crescendo as her husband’s euphoria slowly waned into giggling, the criminal professed his love for her for the umpteenth time and begged her to come away with him to Florida, promising to dedicate the rest of his days to making her happy. His stirring gaze brimmed with imploring tears he unabashedly let fall from his eyes, his voice quavering beneath the immense wait of his need to keep her in his life. The scales she used to weigh her options were suddenly dashed as her husband took a great gasping breath, sprang up from his seated position in the sumptuous armchair he’d been occupying and began to flit around the room gathering things to him, mania rolling off him in waves. He’d hoisted the nude crook off her with little apparent effort despite being smaller than the rangy younger man. He spun him around and slapped the sex drunk visitor’s bare ass as the man squawked in surprise and indignation, pale globes of flesh flushing an angry shade of red and leaving a print in the form of her husband’s hand at the sting. Her husband crouched for on his haunches for a moment to admire his impromptu work of art. She couldn’t see him but she could clearly picture his eyes growing wide with fascination as the mark took shape, his hands twitched with restrained desire, she could practically feel him warring with the impulse to throw him onto their marriage bed yet again, but this time for the purpose of sowing sharper and deeper blossoms of suffering across the entirety of the canvas that was the other man’s body. Disturbed smile still in place as he ground his teeth he muttered to himself in hushed tones. “No Jer, be a good boy. Almost done now, you can do it. Just gotta ape him. He straightened the conflict within him tucked away beneath the impeccable veneer of the consummate showman’s mask. “Would that I could have joined you crazy kids. I’d have loved to use all my fun little tricks on a tall glass of water like you. I’d have driven you crazy, stark raving mad really, shown you just how wild gingers can get, I’m talking showing you where the animals go.” He said with a grin that was only matched in lascivious by it’s lunacy and air of danger. She was certain the young man with the innocence and coordination of a newborn fawn would not have survived such an encounter He clapped the sex drunk young man on the back, sensually garbed him in a ludicrously expensive silken kimono, handed him a duffel bag of cash as though he had one standing by for just this occasion. That torn expression came over his face yet again, this time he surrendered to his urges. Quite suddenly he brought their lips together with the force of a devouring hunger, grinding his crotch against the other man’s leg. Judging by the surprised sound that issued from their visitor, her husband’s tongue had embarked on an enthusiastic exploration of the other man’s mouth. Then as suddenly as the whirlwind of passion had come, it stilled. He stepped back, a deranged smile lighting up his face. A single thin and determined cord of saliva still bound them together in remembrance of their embrace, her husband broke it with his middle finger, and then brought the digit to the other man’s lips. He sucked on it with a dazed expression for a moment before her husband withdrew with out warning. He clapped him on his back, said in perhaps the most jovial tone a cuckold has ever used with his competitor “I’ve always loved a good fireworks show.” and sent the befuddled young paramour on his way with a wink. The next day her husband left on “family business” to some crime on the east coast submerged seven layers deep in corruption and crime, this business ended in his demise. She remembers looking at him in the casket, smirk fixed in place as though even in death he had gotten the last laugh after all.

That had all been eight months ago exactly. Now here she was at a comfortable cruising altitude of 30,000 feet returning from a sojourn to the place where so many of her sisters had famously died along with innocents and hapless victims of circumstance. She buried her husband in the cesspool city and then communed with nature and the spirits of the sisters who came before her in Salem, now all that was left for her to do was return to her family’s modest estate in Canada and continue puzzling over the odd provision in her husband’s will for any child of hers regardless of whether that child was part of their union or not. The trouble began in earnest on that flight which should’ve been an entirely unremarkable trip from Salem to Halifax. The first unusual occurrence was that her water broke and quite suddenly she was in the process of bringing a life into the world some 2000 stories off the ground suspended in what she’d always considered to be fragile contraptions held aloft by little more than a prayer. Her situation was odd and certainly less than ideal but not unheard of. The flight attendants rushed her to the back of the plane and by what many would like to think was a happy accident there were several members of an obstetrics team present aboard that very flight. The delivery was much more difficult than expected for the culmination of what had been by every reckoning a model pregnancy, with nary an over-enthusiastic kick. Whatever creature was inside of her head suddenly gained the claws of the most wicked of fairytale crones, and the weight of a giant every movement brought only piercing agony and precious little relief. Her screams echoed through the craft that was a dedication to mankind’s hubris as her pain intensified so too did an incredibly unforeseen bout of bad weather, the radar which just hours ago prior to takeoff had promised skies wonderful for flying was now proving itself to be a liar. It was as though passing above some insignificant little town in Maine that caused the storm spring up around them. Their vehicle was buffeted from every direction by winds and frost that were unseasonable even for harsh winter in upper North America. Around her people cursed and prayed, screamed and shouted as the pilots fought to deliver their charges to the ground in the same amount of pieces as they left it, rather than in so many more as was becoming increasingly likely. The town against all sense did have its own infinitesimally small airstrip, it wasn’t until many years later that she would begin to understand just how long ago the pieces had been set in play. As they began their harried descent people were struck by falling luggage and other debris that comes when you compress the lives of hundred people into the space of an aircraft and then turn it into a topsy-turvy. Some were killed, she even took a piece of glass to the jaw but any object that got within striking distance of the newborn child swaddled in a washcloth suddenly lost all momentum and dropped to the floor, this sort of power was most definitely beyond her she had no gift for telekinetics but she was simply too alarmed at the gravity of their situation as Earth’s own gravity began to make its power and its displeasure at having been flaunted known to the passengers. Someone with much more than was at her disposal was looking out for her daughter. And so, their airplane limped down from the sky thoroughly chastened by Zeus and his ilk for its trespass into their domain and Moira and her mother crashed into Castle Rock.

Moira and her mother had always been considered oddities by the town. Two outsiders literally cast out of the heavens and dropped into the midst of unwelcoming townsfolk. Her mother had made the best of the situation, for she had tried, made a very valiant attempt to leave this town but the moment that she crossed the boundaries she was wrapped in agony which would not abate until she took a step back into the town, this phenomenon persisted whether she tried by car or on foot and she refused to give air travel another attempt. She was no fool, she knew well that some incredible force was bent on keeping her and her daughter entrapped in this little nothing of a hamlet. She may not have had the gifts that her family had taken for granted but anyone could make rituals work with enough determination, she used her dead husband’s well to secure a small cottage on the outskirts of town for her daughter and set about turning it into a mystic fortress brimming with occult defenses. Oh the villagers looked at her askance when she went asking strange herbs or when rumors, true in this case, swirled about that she desecrated graves looking for bones or danced in the moonlight bared skin flashing as she circled her home and chanted in forgotten tongues. Castle Rock had a history with which is in their neighbor town of Salem’s Lot you see, they knew the signs even if many had forgotten precisely what they meant. When her mother realized she was potentially in the territory of other practitioners her theory became that a powerful coven existed here and they wanted her for as of yet unknown reasons, but the more she doubt the more it seemed that any true coven had long since died out or moved on to more fitting pastures. The occult in community the town consisted of one or two charlatans, and a few like herself with barely an iota of true power between them, capable of little more than the simplest cantrips, certainly not the massive feats of magic required to both down and trap her here. The first night she performed a ritual of crying beseeching a cracked bowl she’d stolen from the motel to connect her with her mother. Her family had always been a nest of vipers they were immune to their own poison but that did not stop the backstabbing that took place as soon as one was no longer able to defend oneself. Her mother made it clear imperious tones bringing out into the forest and stirring the leaves although in truth she was many miles away, that by allowing herself to be brought low and trapped in a backwater with even a lesser one of her families grimoires by unknown parties she had shamed the family and would be forgotten. They would not come to her aid. Cast out of the one coven she had known since birth she went about forming a tighter knit one as its replacement. She had asked the two charlatans out of town and gathered those with inklings of true power to her, she lacked her family’s innate command of the mystic arts, but her deficit had made her a master ritualist. And so she doled out their precious secrets to a few peasants in this town and made herself a new family. With helpers at her disposal she was able to enact more complex magic and had soon carved out a niche for herself and her followers as the area’s sole authority on matters of the arcane. People flocked to see her from all corners of the continent and a few from even further. She didn’t doubt that her mother, the rest of her family and their retainers were trying their best to end her life but as the years went by it occurred to her that whatever was keeping her here was also keeping her alive, the town seemed to repel anything more than passing outside influences and her family feared to enter its boundaries and become trapped themselves, better to let whatever invisible enemy had brought her there finish her off eventually. Their judgment proved correct.

Moira was an unusual soul, daughter of the town witch and perpetually mistrusted. Despite all that she had a sunny demeanor and those that matter couldn’t help but be charmed by her. For as long as she could remember her mother had forced her, even as a barely aware child to partake in odd rituals, from filling purple gossamer bags of strange herbs sends unknown objects and placing them in various spots throughout the house to keeping a bowl of water by the door and flicking a drop against the wood once it was shut to bathing in oils and strange concoctions by the light of the moon. She did all this because as she told Moira “Something was out to get them.” Moira always found it odd that her mother chose to say something as opposed to someone. Moira had always dreamed of being a doctor but her mother forbid her to leave town for any reason and although she could not explain why to herself even after all these years she’d never even thought of disobeying that particular rule. Her few friends in town and her mother concurred that she would’ve made a brilliant doctor but in a town like Castle Rock the closest she could manage was to be a nursing assistant at the local prison. Some days she bemoaned her life stuck in this little town, so small that it did not even merit a dot on most maps of the area. But she would gather up her natural cheer, take her sketchpad and pencil, sit in the park and draw on those days. Since Moira began drawing she’d been a prodigy, but even from earliest childhood when one has no attention span to speak of after she would dally with the subject and that she would return always to her first. A pair of haunting blue-green eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and your whispering pair of lips, cracked and dry, parched even to the drawings one got the impression that no words passed between them for a long time. The drawings of course worried her mother but try as she might she could puzzle out no theories as to their significance, the last time she’d tried describing ritual on the mysterious subject her bowl had been gripped by a powerful kinetic force shattered from the inside out embedding pieces of cheap ceramic into the wall around her and a few into her body as water that had been cool and tranquil moments earlier became scalding and improbably rose up to splash her in the face. It was then she decided that the drawings were out of her power.

Whenever she was outside of her house Moira always felt the faintest buzzing against her skull, the local doctor had considered it a prodromal symptom of a migraine, but the element never progressed beyond an irritating sound. Until the day she disobeyed one of her mother’s rules. She always looked forward to Fridays, it meant that she have the weekend to draw, but more importantly she would get to see Adrian. Adrian she suspected, that been an enigma from the moment he was born. A Scandinavian street rat with far too much charm and intelligence for his own good and somehow grifted his way across the Atlantic and ended up in her life riding a steed of criminal charges for allegedly attempting to traffic young women across the border. Adrian claimed he had been trying to rescue them and the promised jury of his “peers” such as it was appeared to have bought that story, but Adrian could sell water to a drowning man. Even Moira was unsure what the truth of the matter was. Still Adrian was a charmer, and incorrigible flirt and she had fun bantering with him, although when she asked about his plans his thoughts always turned to getting out and making enough money to support his little boy. About a month ago, Adrian had complained of awful whispering noises splitting his skull during the day while Moira was not on shift. She walked into his cell the later at the start of the graveyard shift and found him sitting as though he were a wounded lion whose legs had been caught in a trap, through his quick pained breaths he greeted her in a melodious accent that was related to but unlike Adrian’s own. She saw that his legs were twisted, broken and fractured at various intervals as though someone had taken a chisel up and down the length of bone within his limbs. No one at the prison could explain the origin of his injuries and beyond a cursory visit from the institution’s uncaring physician no one tried to. As long as word did not escape these walls no one cared, Moira had thought about telling but who was there to tell? How did one even begin to do that? She’d never even left this town once in her twenty-something years. He been an able-bodied, athletic young man at lights out, and had awoken as…

“A cripple! I am but a poor humble cripple and I throw myself on your mercy, my dear sweet Moria. How must I abase myself before you to obtain another of these wonderful puddings? I am willing to do quite a lot, to serve…no that’s not quite the right word, oh your language is so silly…Service! I am willing to service you in oh so many ways!” He said in his singsong voice, appearing quite proud of himself for hunting down his lexical quarry. He he had used the provided spoon merely an implement to tear the thin film of plastic keeping him from his prize, flung it away and for lack of a better descriptor… began preforming cunnilingus on the pudding pouch in his hand, his performance was complete with moans and groans and little contented sighs. All the while never breaking eye contact with her, blue orbs burning into her own filled with indecent proposals. Unwilling to tolerate his antics anymore she snatched the offending pudding cup from his grasp, for the shadow of an instant she could have sworn a terrible look of feral rage had flashed across his countenance but it was gone before Moira could register whether or not it ever truly been there. “I am so terribly sorry dear Moira for my offense, it is just that in my day, we did not have such…culinary delights. He’d slowed to get the word “culinary” out properly but hadn’t stumbled and looked satisfied. In his day, that was the other thing, in the month since Adrian awoken the entire prison wailing about whispering in his cell, according to the doctors he developed a dis-associative identity. The young man that now occupied the cell which officially belonged to Adrian, called himself Ivar Lothbrok. He had been doing his best to convince Moira that he was the spirit of a long dead Viking who had for reasons unknown even to himself woken up in a body that was so similar to his own that it had frightened even him. The prison psychiatrist couldn’t have cared less about the situation in that cell, but to Moira it was quite the engaging mystery.

Today Moira decided to challenge him. “If you really aren’t Adrian, prove it if you’re not him then your innocent of the crimes that got him put in here and you should be angry, you should want out.” The smile that split the face in front of her should have been a warning. “I may be innocent of his petty crime dealing in flesh and weird…potions,” Moira decided to let the odd word choice go to spare his pride. “But I have killed and maimed, and lied, and stolen, and coveted many times over. You’re correct though, I do want out of the cell but for the moment I’m right where I want to be.” Moira, ever quizzical couldn’t stop herself from asking “Why do you want to be here?” “Because here is where you are.” he said as if he were speaking to the dullest child in all the world. “I will indulge you however, I am not Adrian, Adrian had pure wholesome thoughts about you, he was going to be free, tell you that he wanted you to be his little boy’s mother, beg you to start a family and run away with him to whatever little speck of a town he found someone foolish enough to care for the child while he was here. He’d have trafficked poison and flesh slaves or slaughtered swine for the rest of his days for you. He used to touch himself here in the dark fantasize about reaching through the bars of the cage and touching your skin, used to dream of having pure loving sex with you on a blanket by fjords illuminated only by the stars and the moon, lest he seemed to greedy to want to see you in all your glory. He wanted to fill your cunt with his seed over any over until the two of you made a brother or sister for precious little Patrick. One big happy family.” He spat out the infant’s name like a curse most vile, and treated the world family as though it was unconscionable poison on his tongue. She took a breath intending to halt whatever sick game he was playing, but the moment she drew breath and opened her mouth his eyes blazed with danger. “Keep your tongue behind your teeth if you wish to keep it all wench!” He roared. “You asked for this, now you will listen. I am not Adrian because never in his wildest dreams would he have contemplated the fantasy of using your uniform to tie you down and spitting on your face over and over forcing you to swallow what you could, and what you couldn’t would slide down between those perfect breasts of yours and they would glisten as I played with them, sucked and bit until they were raw, then I would have kept spitting until your cunt was drenched from the inside out, I would have laid siege to it like it was my traitor brother’s last stronghold. Oh, the sounds and squeals I would have pulled from you. I would have lavished you with my tongue and fingers, bit and sucked and twisted and slapped and pulled and made you come over and over again until you understood what it is to be ravished by a god!” He broke off into a fit of chuckling then capped with a wistful sigh. “But alas all that is denied to me, and indeed you, for you belong to someone else, and as sweet as you would be, you are not worth the effort of challenging his claim.” He stated this with such nonchalance that it broke the terrible spell that she had been under and she fled the prison with eyes burning and tears streaming.

Ivar smiled as she fled, finally, finally. he was one step closer to being free of this accursed in-between place, he was getting home to his beloved Eira and their little girl. Or perhaps another sojourn through life with his healer who had the body of a tower. Or maybe he’d meet that lippy little puppy of an entitled young man in Pennsylvania again who secretly craved discipline. Whatever happened he would be home again, nothing would stop him.

In her haste, she entered her home, ran to her bedroom and threw herself down on the bed without observing her mother’s rules. Had she been paying more attention she would’ve noticed that the water in the bowl she was supposed to flick at the door suddenly evaporated and the gossamer bags filled with protective elements suddenly caught flame and turned to ash in moments. It was then that she heard his voice. “Please don’t cry. I’m here now, it’ll be alright.” His tone was nearly plaintive. She didn’t bother setting up she knew that the voice came from no place within her home. “I’ve been waiting…eternities for you Moria,” He whispered inside her skull. “Let me make you feel better.” There was a hand stroking her face. Her eyes shot open and she beheld a figure that was both present and absent, there was wait to him but light seemed to pass through him through him as though he was merely a projection. Even trapped in the in between as he was, he was gorgeous. Her angel. A completely bare towering figure with the chest and leg and back and ass seemingly having been sculpted from the highest quality marble by da Vinci himself, with cheekbones that could reduce adamantine diamonds to dust, with lustrous hair and sinfully plump and pillowy lips. His eyes, so soulful that she believed he had lived a thousand lifetimes, she realized she’d been drawing this face for as long as she could remember. To feel his touch was to experience euphoria. He kissed her and all her senses were expanded beyond human potential, she saw a kaleidoscope of colors behind her eyes, he smelled and tasted of every single enticing thing at once but instead of a riotous discord of scents and flavors, they were balanced in perfect harmony. His voice alone could reduce her bones to jelly in a way that would make Ivar fear she intended to stake a claim to his epithet. He worshiped her with his entire being, fingers and hands and tongue and colossal endowment yes, but in the midst of their lovemaking she was certain that their spirits were melding even more intensely than their bodies. He spat upon her face one and she felt as though she were being anointed in holy oil by a deity. He scored her flesh with his sharp straight teeth the color of shining bone, drew blood, and she was happy to give it. His enormous hand encircled her throat closed her airway and if she hadn’t already been experiencing what she thought might be Nirvana, the oxygen deprivation would’ve taken her there. After fucking her through more than 20 orgasms and claiming all her orifices for his own each first with the gentle fervor of a virginal lover at the end of an idyllic courtship and then with a harsh brutality as though fucking her two within an inch of her life was the only way he could properly express the hatred for her that filled his entire alien being. He finally unburdened himself of his seed deep inside her and sighed contentedly .

When she awoke after their tryst, he was seated in a chair opposite her bed dressed in a suit and other finery looking for all the world like a high-powered professional instead of some cosmic entity to take an interest in her. He then told her of the tragedy of Henry Deaver, how a Titanic battle with his wife over his infidelity with a young woman he had met at a business engagement led to him driving fueled by rage and sadness while rain pounded the car and obscured his vision, he’d crashed into the lake and been thrown into a myriad of alternate realities, “other heres and nows where the dominos fell in different patterns. His stories of lives spent with Charlotte, Oliver, Westly, as a professor, a soldier from West Virginia, a bounty hunter who fought for his life in a dystopia, the life he’d almost lived of a Viking, a philanderer with a beer-based pick-up strategy, a gangster, the searching for true love based on a scientific assessment ,they all brought tears to her eyes. He entreated her with every fiber of his being to free him from his cage and put an end to his cycle of loneliness, to save him and others trapped in this limbo. She swore to do it.

That was the day the matriarch without a clan descended on the prison, her chariot of choice, a limousine flanked by a motorcade of four SUVs each bearing the insignia of an elite private security firm denigrated the world over for unsavory activities, their detractors though couldn’t question their effectiveness. She and the battalion she paid for advanced through the prison like a storm, the guards normally employed were deferential and out of their depth. The only sounds echoing through the prison with a click of her heels and the thuds of the jackboots that accompanied her for she had brought silence to the prison with her mere presence. Moira had heard of her, the interim controller of a ludicrously wealthy and secretive biotech firm following the scandalous disappearance of her son and heir. Allegedly, the young man whom the newspapers referred to as the Brat Prince had somehow veered off the course of normally accepted philandering ways among the ultrarich and powerful and become involved with someone his mother deemed unacceptable. The matriarch had come because the vast network of informants that she plied with riches and sharp promises had imparted to her knowledge of a prisoner found here who almost matched her son’s description. The only thing he had left behind was a wheelchair covered in the blood of its owner, a crippled faggot whom he had dared to take for a lover. He would pay for his insolence, for the damage down to her reputation and company, she would break this mysterious prisoner and learn all that he knew, she swore it. When she reached his unusual cell a young woman in scrubs was fumbling with the keys, her son’s face taken on a different path through destiny than the one she knew stared back at her. He spoke to her in an antiquated dialect of that language from the Balkans she had left behind so many mortal lifetimes ago, she was not that frightened, trusting girl from Wallachia anymore, she nearly charged the cage to make him pay for daring to address her this way, but the meaning of his words stilled her. “Madame Olivia, I believe we can be of help to one another once this insect has served its purpose.” Moria broke the lock.

He nuzzled into her touch aching a contented sound as she ran her hands through his hair, it had been eons since he felt the touch of another, his eyelashes fluttered and tears swam in his eyes, he would allow himself this one indulgence. “Loyal Moria, you have played your part well and in appreciation I give you the greatest of gifts, the fulfillment of your destiny.” When he spoke it was with the voice of 100 different people at once both cacophonous and whisper quiet. She screamed as his lips brushed her forehead, for this feather-light touch broke everything inside of her all at once. She fell as her skin froze and burned all at once, her muscles liquefied and her bones turned to jelly, her ears, nose, and eyes ran with blood, then her eyes began to boil in their sockets fluids running down into her still shrieking mouth as her body contorted it this way and that trying desperately to contend with suffering that was beyond human comprehension.

The last thing she saw before death mercifully claimed her were a pair of unveiled eyes atop bloodless lips, her final sight was one she had been drawing her entire life.

As the wretch finally had the good sense to expire Olivia Godfrey watched as the death seemed to fill out the prisoner’s gaunt and wan features until she could almost confuse him for an older version of her son. He drew in a deep breath, stooped to kiss her hand and issued a request, eyes glittering with dark promise: “Take me to Derry.”

#Bill Skarsgård #fic #roman godfrey #ivar the boneless #henry deaver #Mickey #axel cluney

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oswednesday · 4 years

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like the other day something happened to my brother where people were bothering him on the yard idk if he antagonized some randos walking which LMAO if so or if some of like people from his school were coming to bother him, those dirtbags he was toting around a while havnt popped back up since i kicked them out of the house when they got my brother so high he couldnt talk and were inviting a bunch of other people cause my mom was also too high to do anything and just passed out in bed while these unwatched teens were planning to do whatever the fuck in the house talking about like sex assult and getting more things to take and do so its like, maybe he’ll look back on that when hes older and thank me but since he hasnt even been talking to me for like months since that like hfdfd whatever!! anyway idk what its about but when my other brother was about this age he got jumped at our super messed up rural american school for saying like faggot and stuff to a gay kid like how are you so homophobic you got jumped in this awful bleeding republican town fgfgf the thing is he was already out as bi too so it was so like, like mentally ill right? like he needed help but that kind of like entrenched entitlement and my mom coddled him while i was like good??? he cant go around doing that to people let him learn a lesson about getting his ass beat for it??? sometimes im like oh maybe i should have handled that differently like he could have gotten help but like, ive been saying that since he was age ten, its like these people are refusing to do anything and i dont just like, this is also like no one is caring for my grandparents rn like even their terrible children have all left the area once it became obvious they were getting super unstable, i guess this a reap what you sow kind of thing but i crave connections, the fantasy where i can heal all this and we can be like a Normal Family

so i was falling asleep, hearing my brother talk about it to my mom like what happened was a jumping and he wanted to get pepper spray and she was like pepper stray wont help you but im here now so you can sleep like it was about two and hes done no chores and nothing but like his own activities and slept like how is that any different than any other day fdgdgf and she was like doing that attention seeking rambling at him, she got this door that idk what its for, im going to risk emotional damage and see if i cant use it for my like door to my room, like she had removed it promising me that shell get a replacement cause it was broken when i first came here but it hasnt been replaced and im just using a blanket as a door cover, i have a chair like half pushed against the enterance to give me like at least the illusion of privacy and safety, its just one of those like folding closet doors, sometimes thats the only door i have like its always been like that there theres a folding closet door they could lock from the outside or like a broken door i couldnt close or no door at all, my middle brother has had like similar no door times but my youngest brother always had a room with a closing working inner locking door

as she was prattling about how nice this random door she got is he replied to her in that like im tired and uninterested and am talking down to you sarcastic kind of voice and she just takes it like, she invests so much into these two boys who treat her like this like theyre not even interested in her and they dont care for her and like when shes old and too sick to be functioning at all theyre going to leave her just the same and if i want a life i need to leave her too and like it just never had to be this way? sometimes it feels like im the only person in the world thats like genuienly caring about these people like the desire for them to get better,and that they lost like the only ally they would have had because they couldnt get over the power trip of being cruel to me? like it goes beyond like theyre sick! they didnt know better!

#long post

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ruffiorocks · 5 years

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Long Post on How Lena being ‘evil’ after the reveal would be a disservice to her entire character arc.

Extract from an interview with Jon Cyer:

"If Lex does end up revealing the truth about Supergirl to Lena, it could have devastating impact. Kara herself attempted to reveal the truth to Lena but stopped as it became clear that the revelation would be extremely damaging to Lena after all of the lies and manipulations she's endured thanks to Lex. It's the kind of damage that would definitely fall under the label of "evil" and could even set up a major conflict for Supergirl next season."

What even is this statement? The last part doesn't even make sense:

"It's the kind of damage that would definitely fall under the label of "evil" and could even set up a major conflict for Supergirl next season."

Damage isnt evil, damage is just damage. It's not like you can have good damage. So Lena learning Kara is Supergirl would inflict damage and then she falls under the label of 'evil'? Completely destroying her as a character. This just says that Lena will immediately become evil (such a strong word) as soon as she learns Kara is Supergirl.

I'm sorry ... But what the actual f**k? So they're just going to go down the same road that Game of Thrones went with Dany in the last episode?

"I'm here to save people, not burn them"

5 mins later

"f**k you all I'm pissed off and I'm going to kill every man, woman and child because I can".

Supergirl writers like to borrow heavily from from Smallville. Well the Lex Luthor of Smallville wasnt immediately evil. Lex was actually a good guy at the start, he was a play boy but he wasnt really so bad. He did however have some moral grey areas. Lex was best friends with Clark, but from day one he was curious about how he managed to survive going off the bridge and the damage done to his car and no damage done to Clark. But Lex didnt immediately go after Clark, he genuinely loved and cared about him almost like a brother. It was Clark that kept going out of his way to keep lying to an overly curious Lex who gave him more than one opportunity to come clean to him. Lex was driven crazy because he knew there was something up with Clark but Clark kept acting like Lex was delusional. Lex was used and abused by his father who favored Clark from the moment he met him. But Lex did a lot of good things in the earlier series, he was ultimately always put down due to his name though. Visions of him in a white suit with blood rain just meant that no matter what Lex did his destiny was to be bad and thats how he would then be treated which ironically is what drove those visions to come true.

So are they just going to recycle this with Lena? The only differences being that Lena hasnt done any evil things and she hasnt been trying to expose Kara because she's oblivious?

Lena has literally done NOTHING but help Supergirl, National City and help save the world several times since she first appeared. Lena isn't perfect, she has a dark side when pushed to her limit, she went to shoot Edge because he was poisoning children. She even told Kara she went and did this. It wasn't a secret.

Lena is pro gun? Doesn't make her evil, it's not like people aren't trying to kill her every 5 minutes and soldier or not Alex is way to gun happy. Alex has also basically been an alcoholic who is in charge of firearms since she was first introduced.

Lena killed Adam? Lena made a mistake, one that is haunting her. She didn't hold a gun to Adams head and pull the trigger cackling like a maniac. I’ve said it once and ill say it again, if Lena is guilty of ‘murdering’ Adam then Jonn is 100% guilty of murdering Manchester Black, a man he had already disarmed and killed purely because Manchester taunted him and and Jonn got pissed off. Even Kara looked shocked when she asked where Manchester was, but then immediately she was fine with it and was like ‘dont worry, one murder doesn't mean you cant be a man of peace’.

The biggest problem with Lena ‘turning evil’ after learning Kara is Supergirl is that that would would imply that Lena being a good person has been entirely dependent on her relationships with both Kara and Supergirl! What the hell? I mean i love Kara but she isnt a freaking God!! Lena’s personality has never been dependent on anyone but herself. Lena was a good person long before she ever set eyes on Kara or Supergirl. Lena was the one that dropped Lex in it remember? Why the hell would they reduce Lena from a complex character to a one dimensional character whose heroic and good personality was entirely dependent on her relationship with Kara/Supergirl?

That is exactly what they did to Kara in season 3, she stopped being ‘Kara Danvers’ the moment Mon El left because even though she had a life, job, a human family and friends and was Kara Danvers long before he showed up she suddenly couldn't be that person anymore because her boyfriend wasn't around? Her entire character was reduced to her being dependent solely on him? That’s not Mon El hate by the way, its hate for the writers.

It would be ridiculous for Lena to instantly forgive Kara for lying her to. To be honest i would be more disappointed in Lena if she was absolutely OK with all of this rather than letting Kara know she’s royally f**ked up! Kara its true doesn't owe her identity to anyone, God even Lena probably would have questioned her if she had instantly revealed herself to her. But the problem is that Kara knows she can trust Lena, she has known this for years. Kara has also revealed her secret to people she has known for less time than she has known Lena and to people she barely knows at all (Nia). Yes she told Nia out of solidarity but Kara has had way more solidarity moments with Lena than she had with Nia. Plus Kara didn't really know Nia at all, Nia could have been playing her the whole time. Lena on the other hand is her best friend and has helped save the world, worked with the DEO and saved Supergirls life and ass many times over.

Kara let the secret go on for far to long, in addition she told other people. Kara used the excuse that it was to keep Lena safe because her enemies would go after Lena. But that is just crap because Lena already has her own enemies, she deals with those enemies. Plus Kara never seemed to care that her enemies could have gone after Winn, James, Nia etc. It was a decent excuse in the beginning but then it became invalid the longer its gone on. Lena knowing Kara is supergirl would probably make her much safer in retrospect, Lena could have just called Kara or been given a fancy watch like a certain someone. The worst part though is that Kara has known since season 2 that Lillian Luthor knows who she is, she also knows that Lex Luthor knows who she is and Lena could have been told by them at any point. Lillian has had years to tell her and could of done. Kara has sat back and just hoped the Luthors wont out her? That is probably the worst story line Kara has EVER had! Kara may not want to hurt Lena with the truth but it would hurt way more coming form Lex!! Kara will reep what she sows here.

On top of this Kara hasnt just been pretending to be two different people to Lena, she has been acting like Jekell and Hyde. Lena and Supergirl have come to an understanding over the whole Reign/Kryptonite issue, but Lena only thinks she's come to an understanding with Supergirl. Lena doesnt know that it was actually her best friend treating her like garbage and with hostility the whole time, then coming back to her as Kara and being all besties again. THAT RIGHT THERE is where the betrayal lies. It isnt that Kara kept being Supergirl a secret from her, its that Kara betrayed her trust as Supergirl and was horrible to her. Lena had Kryptonite purely to help try and save Sam, but Supergirl immediately took it all personally not really giving a second thought to Sam at all. She just assumed that Lena was out to get her and then she started to try and pull rank on Lena, but Supergirl was left gob smacked because low and behold Lena Luthor wasn't beholden to the Girl of Steel like Supergirl expected her to be. Supergirl was given a harsh lesson in where she actually stands in the authority department.

To make it even worse Supergirl enlisted Lena’s then boyfriend to betray her trust and break into her company to spy on her to check she wasnt a liar. James actually does this without to much hesitation, he even enlists Winn’s help. That right there is four betrayals against Lena, where she only assumes it was the one. Lena forgave James, (i dont know why, he still broke into L Corp, he only grew a conscience at the very last second) and holds Supergirl responsible. Lena only thinks it was Supergirl who used her boyfriend against her. Lena will soon find out however that it wasnt just Supergirl, it was her best friend, her boyfriend and even Winn her other friend who all betrayed her. Lena is going to learn that all of the above was actually her the work of her best friend the entire time, then that best friend would come back to her and listen to her mention these betrayals.

Back to James, James had absolutely no reason to throw Supergirl under the bus. He just ‘had to be honest with Lena’ ? How about you dont break into her personal property and betray her trust in the first place? James knew for a fact that Supergirl and Lena were having a beef, he knew full well that if Lena knew what Supergirl had asked him to do she would be even more hurt and angry at Supergirl but he did it anyway. This is exactly what happened because Lena told Kara that Supergirl had used the people she cares about against her and she can never trust her again. At least Kara had the good sense to look guilty. But the other side to this is that once Lena finds out that James knew it was actually ‘Kara’ that betrayed her she will be even more hurt. She will have been doubly betrayed by both Kara and James!

Kara:

1. Treated her crap as Supergirl

2. Enlisted Lena’s boyfriend to betray her

James:

1. Actually did break into L Corp betraying Lena, for some bizarre reason was forgiven. Then he threw Supergirl under the bus to gain Lena’s trust without a thought to the lasting damage it would have.

2. James actually knew the whole time it was Kara being an ass to Lena and it was Kara who was asking James to betray Lena. James then put the last nail in the coffin for Supergirl and Lena’s friendship, but at the same time allowed Lena to continue believing that Kara wasn't the one that betrayed her. James allowed Lena to employ/confide in and be around the very person she declared she could no longer trust. James even enlisted Winn to help betray Lena, Winn being one of Lena’s friends.

If Kara suffers in the aftermath, (which she will) then i want James to suffer the consequences of that betrayal as well. To those that would say ‘Lena is a liar and keeps secrets’ well Lena’s secrets have never directly had anything to do with the Superfriends, she doesn't keep them to hurt anyone, or tell them to hurt anyone. Lena doesn't have to tell Supergirl everything she is doing because Supergirl isnt her boss, she didn't have to tell James everything but she did actually reveal a lot to him. Lena actually told everyone about her super humans idea but they all dismissed it immediately, Lena doesn't have to stop though because some people dont approve.

So to have Lena go bad after spending all of the time fighting Lex and Lillian, saving the alien population from genocide, saving the city from Daxamites, saving Supergirls life more than once, coming to work with the DEO even when she has beef with Supergirl, doing her best to try and help save Reign, manufacturing Harun El to make sure that Argo City never dies, begging Supergirl to let her die so she can save the people from the chemical on that plane, agreeing to marry Mon El to save a children's hospital, buying Cat Co to keep the free press free? Suddenly all that is erased because she is lied to by her best friend? NO! If lies and deceit were enough to send Lena over the edge it would have already happened, she can survive multiple betrayals and assassination attempts from her family, the people of National City making her a pariah, Rhea betraying her, Alana betraying her, Eve betraying her? Jack's death? But the icing on the cake that makes her snap is Kara betraying her? NO! What a disservice to Lena as a character! It would also cancel out the conversations she had with Sam when she was telling her she knew she was a good person no matter what and all the conversations she’s recently had with Brainy about having emotions.

Plus to make Lena, who has fought the Luthors at every turn to suddenly snap and say ‘f**k it im going to complete Lex’s life work’ is insanity.

Ultimately, the social lesson of the day here is if your family is s**t then you are s**t. No kids dont bother trying to be good people, you are lost causes. We dont care that you became a paramedic, or a fire fighter, or a soldier, or a surgeon or anything. You ARE crap and you will always be crap! The lesson is ‘never try’. Everyone else on this show has had trauma and betrayal in their lives but they still get to be heroes? Jonn? Alex? Kara? Winn? All had some trauma or family issues but nope they arent allowed to be bad guys. If having a bad family makes you bad then Alex should be because of her dad, Winn should be because of his dad and Kara absolutely should be because of her parents and her aunt and uncle.

The only thing that would make sense after the reveal is Lena having nothing at all to do with Kara, probably selling Cat Co and cutting pretty much every one of the Superfriends from her life. Where would they go from there with her? Well Lena has no reason to turn her attentions to hurting them or the people of National City. She doesn't stop being who she is due to betrayal. So maybe Lena finds a way to be a hero on her own refusing to help Supergirl anymore. I still 100% believe though that if Kara was hurt Lena would come and help no matter what, because that has always been who she is and her good nature and sanity has NEVER been dependent on Kara. Kara is not the centre of everyone universe.

#supergirl #lena luthor #kara x lena #kara danvers #anti guardiancorp #anti james olsen #jonn jonzz #alex danvers #nia nal #winn shott #samantha arias #lex luthor #lillian luthor #eve teschmacher #eve tessmacher

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thebellbook · 3 years

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i ask for your loving then i sweep it away

lingering in hallways, hoping you stay

am i this ironic

sowing this hell, this grave,

this loveless and lonely space

the only time im feeling safe

optimist, how are you so glued together? im making a mess

pretending you dont notice how i ruin this

ill let you go if you wanna go, isnt that fine, yeah

but ill tell you to go when you dont wanna go

and thats my crime

thats my crime

time, ill be doing the time for all that i say and all that i dont say right

its more about me than it is about you

its fight or flight

i never challenge myself , just making the same mistakes thrice

i shouldve learned by now

but youre such an optimist

it makes me morph into something so small

i think if i cant love you perfect, i cant love you at all

and every reason i am searching for,

leads me to see thats my crime

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kissmymongoose · 5 years

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I played some crash bandicoot 3 for the most part today. I got the yellow gem finally! I'm working on time relics as well and I have the first 10 plus a few random ones. I really hate the time trials, but im getting better and better at them. Tomb time was a bitch because at the very end theres a gap you cant just spin glide to, you have to jump on the panels just right, and by the end of the level i kept dying there making stupid mistakes. Then i had to do it over and over and over cause time trials. Eventually though, I got it and was super proud of myself.

I walked to the garden twice today. I really should have spent the day being productive, but i didn't have any determination to do so. That being said, I plan on getting all the limbs and scraps I lopped a few days ago, and putting them in a pile, away from everything, then i want to cover it all with dirt, and let it break down for a while. Then next year, ill add some compost and broadcast a ton of flower seeds on it. Anything like marigolds, pansys, violets, coneflower, nasturtiums, and I may even sow a few dwarf teddy bear sunflowers.

The plums and the roses and the blackberries are all doing awesome. The strawberries are trying to recover from my stupidity (kept them indoors, then transplanted directly into sunlight!) In my defence, it was supposed to be overcast with showers. Whatever though, you live and you learn, and next time ill be transplanting in the afternoon instead of early morning. The garden can get pretty hot throughout the day.

A little bastard rabbit has been trying to munch on my seedlings. Hes been nice enough to give me some of his homemade all natural fertilizer! And as much as manure is good for gardens, a few rabbit pellets in exchange for my precious seedlings, is NOT worth it. My uncle has some repellant granules that i want to try. Gotta check the label before i start tossing it around my plants though.

Im really glad tomorrow is Friday. I guess I should use some of the rest of today to straighten up though. The living room is a mess, our room is a sandy disaster that needs mopping, and the laundry is trying to get out of hand again. 😔 all i want to do is be a lazy bitch, come on world! Its hard to keep up with everything in general, but its even harder when the people you live with undo everything youve done. It takes them 5 minutes to fuck up the place, but takes me 2 days to clean the shit :( thats the main reason I really want to declutter. There isnt enough room for everything to fit the right way.

Well, the kids will be home in about 20 minutes, im gonna walk to the garden for a minute, and then when they get home, im gonna pick up around the house some, maybe put the kids clothes away. I'm kinda ready to play some more chash too, but since the kids are gonna be home, I'll wait till they go to bed. They do this really aWeSoME thing, where if they see mommy having a good time, they must be the ones to possess it immediately. 😒 i love them so much, it just gets frustrating when you wanna be selfish. Sometimes I actually like to do something i enjoy! Im having a really good time on crash lately, and I'm so ready for gwen to get spyro, cause imma play it while shes at school.

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consciouslysubconscious · 6 years

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2-15

if you are reading this, please-- read till the end.

im sorry for everything. there are no words to convey how sorry i am let alone how i regret the choices ive made. my apologies may have lost its meaning to you, but i can only tell you that i am sorry.

im sorry that you believed every words i said, and that they gave you hope and expectations.

im sorry that things are this way; even worse than before, possibly unmendable now, as you said i fucked it up.

everything and anything i say may not have any weight to you, but i just wanted to tell you...should you see this that is.

i know we cut all communications, and i feel that it is for the best. maybe, i dont know. i hope youre doing better, but i hope that youre happy. i know we shared good memories and good times together, and i will forever cherish that. you have taught me so much, given me so much joy, and shown me what love is, and i am forever grateful for that.

once you love someone, you never stop loving them-- and youre right. i cant stop loving you. i try to erase you and forget about you, but it is impossible. this agony over the memories and love i still have for you haunts me, and the mistakes i made over our relationship makes me hate myself for what i did.

i know i hurt you, and i know the wounds run deep. im sorry..

im still jealous, im still angry. im jealous that i couldnt be with you over valentines day, let alone talk to you, or even see you at any day of the week. im angry that i still hurt you and let you down. im bitter at the fact that youre happy with someone else, and another guy makes you smile and loves you the way i couldnt. i hate the fact that you talk to him like we used to, and i hate that i lost my best friend. maybe thats why its so hard to forgive myself--you werent just someone i loved, but my best friend that i shared everything with.

my words have no weight or meaning to you at this point probably... and its understandable. my actions contradict my words--words are cheap. and actions speak louder than words right? i know you hoped to see me change, so that maybe given enough time you can trust me again. but every time, something happens.

i am growing. and i am learning. im learning from my mistakes, and im growing daily in the word and in my heart. im constantly gardening my heart for the rocks, weeds, and thorns that crowd and try to suppress my growth, but sometimes i fail. i knew there wasnt going to be a radical change where i suddenly become a minister or a pastor, but i know for a fact that ive changed. its undeniable, this change in my heart, and outlook i have now--if there were a way to show you, i would. but its the quiet and slow growth of the roots i spread and foundation i build thats not visible. my mistakes are loud and clear, but the small, daily battles i win and progress i make are not.

i guess in this sense i wanted to be with you through my growth, with you next to me, encouraging me and going through this together. but i know you need to trust me first, and in order for that to happen you need to see the fruits first. and im trying--im sowing my seeds and im watering it, taking care of it. but even now i still make mistakes, and i stumble and fall. but the joy that i now find afterwards is that i can look towards God and rejoice in the fact that although i faltered i am no longer bound by sin but free to seek Him in a new way. I know thats not the case right now. but more and more i find that it takes time...everything takes time. i mean i guess i tried to force this seedling of mine to bear fruit, but its impossible. and i guess in this sense that i thought you could forgive me and come back... but thats not something i could ask of you.

you dont have to believe me, or care about what i have to say...but i just wanted you to know.

i miss you so much. i still love you and i cant stop thinking about you. youre in my prayers daily and i resist the urge to check on you as i did before. i ignored the fact that its impossible to erase you, in hopes that it might not be true, but that only made me think about you more.

i still have hope, for some odd reason. even when you told me i messed up past the point of no return, that you hope i dont mess it up for the next girl. maybe im just stupid, an idiot for thinking that way. but i just cant help it, not being able to let go.

i keep urging you to let go and forget about me because im selfish. i guess i wanted you to erase me so that it would somehow help me forget about you too. i thought that if i reminded myself everyday that youre with someone new i would grow to forget about you.

i hope that maybe, just maybe in the future, when my growth is apparent and fruits of my labor have been gathered, that we could try again. i hope that you can forgive me and trust me again, and even love me for who i am. i hope that im not as petty and stupid as i am now, that we can both start a new chapter together and finish our books together. i dont want to dwell on my mistakes, who you dated before, and all these insecurities and petty issues i worried over. i hope we can start new, if ever comes a time.

you know, i completely forgot that you knew about this blog... i had other ones that i ranted to but i guess its just what i wrote when i needed to put my feelings into words

i hope what i wrote didnt make you hate me more or anything

im sorry that i lost my patience and temper with you when we last talked. i said things i didnt mean, and i hope you can forgive me in your heart. life without you is different, and it sucks in a lot of ways... i hope its not the same for you.

i hope youre happy, and i hope youre doing well. i hope youre studying hard and doing well in school too. i really wish the best for you, in everything that you do...

i really hope youre happy above all because of how much sadness i brought you

i want to see you succeed and grow too--beyond the woman you are now, to a person that id probably find even more irresistible

i dream, i hope, and i pray for another chance, another shot at being with you. please, i hope that that you dont judge me too harshly by my mistakes, but rather take a moment to let me show you, however long it takes, that im ready.

the fool i am, i think too much...maybe i hope too much as well

i saw the incredibles trailer today and thought, the movie is coming out in june. maybe by then ill be able to take her to see it

i dont know. maybe you’ll still be with him, and maybe i wont have grown much.

i mean, it took David 20yrs to grow to be a king... hopefully i could have grown to a point where you can trust me again

you always liked surprises--in a way, maybe you expected it. confusing as it may be, you’ll probably know what im talking about should this be later in the future.

i dont know. anything can happen, but i dont view that phrase the same way anymore. i only saw it in a bad way, that anything bad could happen. in a way, its true, since life isnt always full of ups. i could have more downs and dips, but i just hope and pray that they only work to strengthen me further.

happy late valentines day i guess. hope you spent it well with him (not rly idk). its a day of love, and i still love you, so yeah.

good bye, until we talk again i guess. i know im not supposed to talk to you but i’ll probably end up reaching out some day or something....

i dont know

we’ll see since anything can happen

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