#im-on-a-murder-break

[itzkatty12]

She's sure is a damaged OC

[bacchuschucklefuck]

three people who were going to three different concerts run into each others in an alley

[dustbar]

mr bartender you are so cool can i have a bottle of absinthe i swear i can take it please

how did u even get in

[watermel0ns-dumb-cringe]

Oh Anya they could never make me hate you ☹️ughshjj bawls

[tennessoui]

14 for obikin pretty please?

here you go!

[from this list of prompts]

[5. 'are you jealous' - 27. 'i'm pregnant' - 32. 'i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified' (LATEST) 44. 'if you die, i'm gonna kill you' - 41. 'you did all of this for me?' - 46. 'hey, have you seen...? oh']

14. 'hey, i'm with you, okay? always.'

The first time Anakin visits, he's so angry that he cannot speak for the first two hours. Obi-Wan sits against the wall of his cell, on the floor even though the Jedi have provided him a perfectly comfortable bed and chair. The Force collar around his neck looks wrong. His master sitting on the floor, dressed in the dull orange of a prisoner's jumpsuit looks wrong.

Anakin is so angry that he can't speak. He can only look and tremble until he is told he must leave.

Obi-Wan does not speak either. He does not even look at him.

Maybe that's what makes his anger harder to bear. Anakin knows that Obi-Wan has met with countless other Jedi. Visitors, friends, allies, people who are working with him on his defense case. He knows that the other man talks to them, has sliced into security holo footage to see it for himself, though no one will tell him what is said. Everyone always leaves looking frustrated, but at least Obi-Wan talks to them.

But not Anakin. Even though it is Anakin that Obi-Wan has hurt the most. Anakin, who deserves to know why from Obi-Wan's mouth.

After all--

"He was like a father to me," Anakin spits at him on his second visit, only a few days later. Going to see Obi-Wan in the Coruscanti prison cell where he is awaiting trial is like an itch. Scratched once, Anakin finds he cannot help himself from digging his claws in.

Obi-Wan is still against the wall. His beard has grown slightly longer. His head is tilted back against the wall, though when Anakin speaks, his eyes slide down from the ceiling to rest on him.

"I'm starting to think you say that to all the boys," his former master who is a murderer says in that lilting familiar drawl.

"You killed him."

"Yes," Obi-Wan agrees, because apparently part of his defense case is not to plead not guilty to the murder of the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Anakin would say that may be problematic, but then--there are security holos, soundless and slightly blurred, of the event. Of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi taking tea with Chancellor Palpatine. Talking in civil gestures for thirty minutes. Requesting, as far as anyone can tell, for the Chancellor to fetch him a pot of sugar. Lighting his saber and beheading him the moment the old man's back was turned. "Yes, I did."

"Why?" Anakin yells, voice cracking on the word. He doesn't understand. He thinks the not-knowing will drive him to madness. He thinks maybe it already has. It has been two weeks since the Chancellor's murder. Half the Senate is seeking Obi-Wan's execution.

The war, theoretically, has paused, like even the Separatists are holding their breath. Waiting. Wondering.

Obi-Wan looks at him quietly for a moment. For five. His face is stoic, resolved. Beloved, even after this.

Then--for a singular second--the mask cracks, and his master stares at him as if he needs to see him in order to survive. He looks hungry and exhausted and relieved, down to the bones.

"How have your nightmares been lately, padawan?" he asks him, and Anakin is so disgusted by the word--by the title that Obi-Wan doesn't get to say after killing the Chancellor, killing Anakin's friend--that he turns and leaves without another thought.

He is back a day later. He has never known how to keep his distance from things that can hurt him, that's what his mother always said. Too curious by half. Too sure of his own invincibility. That's what his master always said.

Anakin isn't sure of anything anymore.

"Why did you kill him?" Anakin asks. Obi-Wan's beard is longer. He is still on the floor. It rankles, the sight of him brought so low. "Did someone tell you to?"

Obi-Wan lets his head fall forward, a puppet with its strings cut. "Do you think me so biddable, Anakin?"

Anakin today. Not padawan. As if Obi-Wan has learned his lesson. As if he is as desperate for Anakin to linger in his presence as Anakin is hopelessly addicted to returning.

Padmé had tried to stop him this morning. Had tried to tell him it would do no good to see him, that the justice system would do its work, that Anakin was only hurting himself by returning over and over again. She pointed out that he had nightmares last night, for the first time since the news of the Chancellor's death reached them.

He hadn't had the heart to tell her that his nightmares were not about the Chancellor dying, but about Obi-Wan facing down an execution squad. About Anakin, standing on the deck of the Invisible Hand, Palpatine's voice in his ear, telling him to do it, do it. Cut off the traitor's head, only to look down and find that the two sabers he is holding are familiar to him, and person on his knees before him is his master.

Anakin had woken with a yell around one in the morning, sweat soaked and shaking. He hadn't been able to sleep again.

Maybe that's why he feels so alive now, slightly manic and still trembling as he paces in front of the Force barrier of Obi-Wan's cell. Did someone tell Obi-Wan to cut him down? he'd had the thought somewhere around five in the morning. Had it been someone Obi-Wan trusted? Someone he loved?

Who stood to gain from the death of the Chancellor? Who had the Chancellor ever hurt or threatened?

Anakin walks as close as he dares to get to the cell. "Master," he says, coaxes really, pushing forward until he can hear the hum of the force field.

Obi-Wan's head thumps back against the wall and he watches him from under his eyelashes.

"Master, I'm with you, alright? Hey, I'm with you, always, alright, always, so if someone told you, manipulated you, just tell me please. I'll find them. I'll get them to turn themselves in, master. Just tell me. Why did you kill him?"

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. He looks for all the world as if he is meditating, save for that collar around his neck. The prison garb. He doesn't look like a murderer, but he is. He is. He killed the Chancellor. He is going to face execution. Anakin is going to have to watch him die too and all he can think is that he knows that Obi-Wan doesn't even kriffing like sugar in his karking tea.

"Answer me!" Anakin yells, lifting his fist and forgetting himself for just long enough that he slams it against the barrier. He pulls it back with a curse as the force field short-circuits his mech arm and the prison alarm blares out a warning siren.

This time, he is led away from the cell by a Coruscanti guard. He is advised to not return for a standard week. The entire time he is exiled from the prison, the only thing he can think about is the expression on Obi-Wan's face as he watches him leave: eyes wide open and forehead wrinkled with concern, as if worried that Anakin had hurt himself.

The day after he is allowed to return, he does. He does not want to seem too eager or desperate, so he waits until it's early in the evening before pointing his speeder towards the prison unit.

"It had to have been someone you loved," Anakin announces as he stops in front of Obi-Wan's cell. He's in his bed this time, lying on his back and looking at the ceiling. He does not twitch at Anakin's voice, though Anakin can tell that he's not asleep, though his eyes are closed. He can tell just from the minute lines of tension he's holding in his shoulders, his neck.

How can Anakin know him so well and not know that he is capable of this? Of murder on this scale?

"Hm?" Obi-Wan finally says, when the silence drags on and it becomes clear that Anakin will not say more until he has engaged. Anakin watches this war play out in the subtle movements of Obi-Wan's facial muscles as well. He knows him so well. He knows him better than he knows anyone else in the galaxy.

"The person you killed him for. You had to have loved him more than anything else in the entire galaxy to kill a man the way you did. Defenseless. Over sugar. You don't--you don't even take sugar in your tea! It was a coward's way of killing--and it doesn't--you would never. Not unless it was for someone you loved."

Obi-Wan's eyes blink open, but he doesn't look away from the ceiling. He doesn't look at Anakin.

"I don't--I don't know what harm you think Sheev Palpatine could cause to anyone, but that has to be it. Nothing else makes sense. You loved someone enough to kill for them, and you killed the Chancellor."

The words come out easily. Anakin has practiced them for a week now; it is the only thing that makes sense. Nothing else makes sense. Nothing else but love could make a man like Obi-Wan do what he did. He must have loved someone a lot. He must love them more than the Republic. More than his own freedom.

The first time Anakin had told Padmé his theory, she'd looked at him for ages, until he'd grown angry and defensive. She'd touched his arm, as if that could hold back this hurricane brewing inside his chest, and said, "I don't know if you're right, Ani. I don't know if I think you're wrong either. It's just...you sound so...jealous."

At least Obi-Wan doesn't say the same thing. But what he does say may be even worse. Because he doesn't deny it. He doesn't protest. All he says is, "And who is it that you think I love more than anything else in the galaxy, padawan?"

Anakin has thought about this, too. "Bail Organa," he makes himself say, even though the name curls his lips up into a sneer. Bail Organa, the man who has been voted the interim Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. The man who has gotten everything from this assassination, while Anakin has had his everything taken away.

On his cot, Obi-Wan's eyes slide closed. His mouth quirks up. "Ah," he says, as if he has had something he has long expected to confirmed to him. He says nothing else.

It makes Anakin want to hit the barrier again. It makes him want to scream. It makes him want to be petty, hurt Obi-Wan back in the same way that Anakin feels hurt even though it doesn't make sense, none of this makes sense. But it feels as if Obi-Wan has kept half of himself secret from Anakin, a whole love, his entire capacity to love, and Anakin wants to prove that he has as well.

So he says, voice mean and sharp, "Padmé is pregnant. The med-droid says it is twins."

Everything else remains unspoken, but surely audible. That they are his. That he never stopped seeing Padmé. Perhaps even that she is his wife.

On the cot, behind the Force barrier, in his chains, Obi-Wan opens his eyes and blinks at the ceiling. His lips form a small smile, as he says, still not looking at Anakin, still not looking at Anakin, "I know, dear one. Why do you think the Chancellor had to die?"

[bandtrees]

Then finally, after what seemed like forever, a stupid, arrogant, little man cut the webs and set the monster free.

[smal5504]

bleeesuashuhfg im still not over it can you tell

yapping down beloe :>

as a wise kikuo once said "search!!! search!!! where are you enemies!!! search!!! search!!!" (in reference to la la la rasen no naka RHSFJSKGDHCFJ)

la la laaaaa so first of all many elements of this are based off of my cool cool bfdia pin imaginings animated series the link takes you to the tumblr upload of part 5 to the series!!! because it best pertains to this episode and drawing YAY YAY YAY i dont know what else to yap im jus really really REALLY proud of this ♡♡♡ /vvvvvpos /silly red pushpin attempts to counter debiliating anxiety and self hatred by putting on a whole show affirming that shes utterly unlovable, lives to regret it

also pleek obserb my bin beefydie-yay hyperanalysis video presentation it would be quites the appreciating

okay goobeye eid mubarak

[blueskittlesart]

save button briefly remapped to dialog advancer in climactic scene of visual novel. 10 dead 30 injured

[winged-bat]

Bernard definitely has multiple bats stashed around his apartment cuz you never know when you’re gunna need one, honestly I say he sleeps with one under his pillow or some shit too

[four-eyed-floozy]

Are we going to acknowledge that there's a timeline where gideon probably murders dipper??????

[qoldenskies]

Thinking about cc!Donnie getting sick and hiding it from his brothers till he like collapses and the freak out from the others that would follow

honestly post-epilogue i might write a oneshot with a premise like this just because i think there's a painful combination i could play with considering his chest iss ffffucked and if he caught something he could actually be super immunocompromised ,, like he NEEDS to be open about things like this for a ton of reasons but he just wont be out of fear of burdening them. after a while it becomes less about facing their wrath (although if he's seriously out of his mind, he'll forget where he is so it does resurface) and more about seeing the grief and panic enter their eyes when he's hurt or upset

he'll always beat himself up when he cant hide it anymore, because they are so much more hurt when they learn he's been intentionally keeping it from them, but it never seems to stop the problem. it just makes donnie more upset in the moment.

[queenerdloser]

i just finished dark heir

[lwklottie]

“how could you still like her character?” same reason people like ghostface killers ITS FICTION??? you act like we weren’t aware they were going to go mentally fucking insane

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 3)

N followed Uzi at her side as they made their way through the maze of hallways that was the bunker. If he hadn't, he might have gotten lost.

“I think this place gets bigger every time I come here.” He pointed out, taking one step for every two of hers, he wasn't going to point that out though, lest she poke him.

Yes, poke, maybe shove or lightly punch. But he'd come to realize that when it came to the people she cared about, she didn't choose violence. Don't get him wrong, Uzi would often choose violence when it was an option, case in point; railgun. But when it came to him, and V to an extent, her mouth was the most dangerous thing about her.

That and maybe her tail, which did often actually bite.

“It's a maze on purpose, Dad thought it might throw you guys off to buy us time.” She hummed absent-mindededly, thinking as she lead him through yet another cross-section.

“It would definitely work on me. I'm already lost.” He laughed a little, looking over at her.

Her visor was lit up in an almost frown, eyebrows together in either concern or disappointment, her tongue was out again, which meant she was focused intently on something. N was always in awe of how she was always thinking, although she often overthought and made herself upset, he hoped that's not what she was doing.

His eyes drifted to the way she played with the ball joints of her own fingers, like she always had to have something in her hand, her tongue switched sides and her eyelights scrunched up, obviously trying to work through something in her head.

Cute… wait what?

“Oh! Crap I almost passed it. Here we are.” She stopped abruptly, causing N to nearly trip to avoid careening into her, there was a thick, fogged window looking into the nursery, where he could see a few blurry shapes of pillbabies recharging in their cribs.

“Ooooh! Babies!” N's eyes grew exceptionally wide, almost as if they had stars in them, his tail wagged behind him, his hands cupping his face and a squeal threatening to spill from his mouth.

“Yeah, probably here while thier parents are working. Come on, you can see them better inside.” She opened the heavy door with a swoosh, and a gust of sterilized air hit them both.

“I'm allowed inside? Wouldn't they… be afraid of me?” N took a step back, holding the wire of his tail in his hands, looking anywhere but her eyes. Thinking about how some of the workers still looked at him with fear.

“N, it's fine. And if they're not fine with it I'll make them fine.” Her tone shifted from soft to rough, and her fist balled to make her point. And, almost reluctantly, he followed her, head frantically taking in every single detail of the room.

The drone at the front desk wasn't paying attention. Wore glasses, and seemed to be from the same generation of drone as Uzi's Dad, with the slightly boxier body type typical from that generation. Her eyelights were a deep orange, and she was skimming through a magazine.

“Uh, Mrs. Rayn? It's Uzi, I'm back.” Uzi's voice seemed to immediately lack the bite it had a moment ago. And the elder drone peered over her glasses, first to Uzi, then to the disassembly drone awkwardly standing behind her. He smiled, trying not to look any kind of threatening. His tail wagging slightly.

“Not sure we can combine you two, and I'm not sure Khan would want me to…”

Oh robo-jesus-

“No! Uhm… No. I'm just here to pick up more oil! N wanted to see the babies…” Both of their faces exploded in blush, their eyes flicking over at each other briefly, which somehow made both their blushes far worse.

What would that even look like? Would they be a worker drone? A disassembly drone? Both? Would they have Uzi's eyes? His yellow ones? Inherit his white ones? Or would the colors mix and be brown? Or pink? Did it even work like that?

He should probably stop thinking about that…

“Ahhh, good! You two are a little young for that anyway. Uzi, you should have been good for another week! Is your condition getting worse?” She asked, and she immediately reminded N of a grandmother, voice soft, kindly, but crackly from age.

“No. N had to stay over at my house and was overheating, he needs a lot more than I do.” She gestured to him, which caused another nervous beaming smile to grace his face. He gave a small wave in return.

“I see…” Mrs. Rayn hummed, typing something up on the computer sitting in front of her. Every so often she would glance up at N, looking over her glasses, N felt as if he was being studied.

“Right, Uzi Doorman, upping your supply to five cans, instead of three. Just in case your “friend” happens to need to stay again.” She said as if she fully believed it would be happening more often, though neither young drone could discern why.

“N, was it?” She turned to him, making him jump, he nodded, his old worker programming forcing him to slightly bow, which would have been deeper had he not forcefully stopped himself.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied, taking a step forward, beads of sweat dripping down the inside of his visor.

“It's nice to meet you young man. If you ever need something, you come to me. Alright?” She smiled kindly at him, and his nerves immediately relaxed, and the next smile that came from him was far more natural.

“Thank you. I'll keep that in mind Ma’am”

“Well aren't you polite. Half the men here could learn a thing or two from you.” She gave a soft chuckle, motioning to the door that lead to the little dronelings.

“You're welcome to see them, just be careful. Let me go fetch what you need.” With that she was off towards the back, N noticed she heavily favored one foot over the other. Huh.

But an immediate distraction came in the form of pillbabies. He nearly sprinted, but felt Uzi grab his arm to stop him. Like it was a command from his own system, he stopped immediately.

“Careful, remember? Pills are made out of silicon, so they're squishy. They're also really sensitive to sound, so shhhh…” She explained, leading him into the nursery at a much slower pace. He nodded in understanding, keeping his tail tight against the floor to keep it safe and away from the tiny dronelings.

After realizing he was going much slower, she released him, finding a seat in one of the waiting chairs and crossing her arms, watching him as he made his way over to the closest baby.

It was so, so small, which he knew, but seeing one up close instead of in pictures didn't do it justice, the whole thing could fit in the palm of his hand. This one had white eyelights, but was currently in sleep mode, three little z's appearing and blinking on the little ones visor.

He smiled warmly, suppressing the urge to touch the little pill. He didn't want to disturb it, or hurt it for that matter.

The next one was green, and while it wasn't asleep it also didn't seem to be too concerned with his presence, too focused on dimming and relighting its eyes, N found himself chuckling, but moving on.

The last droneling was tucked into the corner, and as he approached he noticed that this one was actively looking at him, intently actually. And their eyes were a deep lavender, a shade lighter than Uzi's.

“Hey kiddo…” He wasn't sure what made him want to speak to it, maybe it was the eyelights, or the way it was staring at him. But he got the impression it wanted his attention.

The baby giggled, a smile appearing on it's screen as it began to rock from side to side. If it had arms, they would be reaching up at him.

“You're a happy one.” He felt Uzi come up next to him, her being a fair bit warmer than other drones, and he'd nearly memorized the sound of her footsteps by now.

“This one looks like how you did!” He pointed out quietly, trying his best not to disturb the others, Uzi didn't reply, instead leaning over the side of the metal crib.

“She's unclaimed… look.” She pointed to a tag at the foot of the crib. A pink tag saying “unclaimed” mocked him. Dang, how'd he not notice that?

“Oh… what does that mean?”

“It means her parents haven't come back to pick her up yet.” Uzi sounded concerned, her hand hovered over the pills chassis, before looking even more concerned.

“She's too warm, no one's fed her in awhile…” she looked from side to side, as if making sure no one was around, before gently picking up the small pill in her arms, something that seemed practiced, and natural.

“Oh no… do you think something happened to her parents?” N now shared her concern, although a part of him felt extremely giddy watching his normally edgy best freind hold a baby so gently. He wasn't sure why, but it made his core feel warm.

“Unless V went back on her word. I don't see what could have happened.” Uzi replied back, seemingly instinctually rocking the baby gently, one hand on top of the little one, holding her steady.

The little pill continued to smile up at her, giggling but eyelights getting droopy, and she stopped trying to roll to either side. His best freinds eyes softened, a small smile creeping up onto her face.

“So…?”

“You can sometimes make a baby accidentally… leaving a portion of your code in someone. She might have been dumped here after her parents got her a body…” She explained, glancing around the room, searching for something.

“Theres a bottle station over there, she needs some oil. Could you bring me one?” She motioned to a dispenser near the door, the picture was of a plastic bottle with a very narrow black tip.

“Yeah, okay.” He closed the distance rather quickly, clicking the very clearly marked button on the dispenser and a very small plastic bottle fell into his hand. As well as… a siphon?

“What now?” He asked, handing it to her. And she sighed, lifting up her hoodie and undershirt to expose bare chassis.

N’s head snapped away, being reminded of her displeasure of him being naked, Uzi looked up at him and looked nervous, and embarrassed.

“I'm not stripping in front of you N, I'm trying to open a panel on my side.” She explained, holding the baby in one hand, and opening a small panel on her side with the other, sticking the siphon into it, which caused her to jolt.

“Agh… been awhile.” She murmured, pumping the siphon with the hand pump, after a few seconds, warm oil began to fill the bottle.

“Woah… what?” N was mesmerized, watching her fill the bottle with her own oil, and also at the ease and familiarity she seemed to do it with. It was also his first introduction to a side panel, did all the workers have those? He knew he didn't.

“I used to volunteer here. When mom was still alive. We both did.” She explained, sounding rather sad for a moment, before shaking her head. “Babies need warm oil, usually filtered by their mother since they can't yet. But, I'm all that's here right now so…”

The bottle was filled, and she pinched the siphon, wincing as she pulled it out, before sighing.

“Ugh, that wasn't painful before…” She trailed off, moving her hoodie back in place and training her eyes back on the droneling. Softly scratching the silicon of the chassis.

The baby made a raspberry, seemingly enjoying the feeling.

“Yeah… it tickles, right?” Her voice suddenly went sugary sweet, so much so N felt a blush light up his face, it was like it was made of caramel, gentle and kind and deeply maternal. He wasn't even aware her voice could go that soft.

“There's that panel.” She opened a small panel on the pillbaby's front, where there was a small opening where N assumed the bottle would go.

She tipped the bottle into the opening, and the baby's eyes flickered shut, seemingly enjoying the coolant, Uzi seemed to be lost in the moment, nodding her head as a coo that sounded almost unnatural came out of her mouth.

N stayed uncharacteristically silent, watching the scene before him while an ocean of different emotions ran through him. Curiosity, both about pillbaby anatomy and Uzi's time with her mom. Awe, at her competence at this, how confidently she had taken control of a concerning situation. And how soft her voice was whenever she spoke to the droneling, it made the sensors on the back of his neck stand up, filling him with a warmth he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

“Oh! There you two are. I thought you'd have had your fill by now.” Mrs. Rayn popped in though the door with a bag in her hand, five canisters of oil bouncing around inside, her face fell on Uzi, who was still looking at her task; feeding the baby.

“Well that's a sight I'd never thought I'd see again…” She said, trailing off when Uzi looked up sheepishly. A blush invading her face as she caught up with reality.

“She was too warm, old insinct took over. Sorry, I know non-volunteers aren't supposed to donate…”

“No it's quite alright, that one was printed out about a week ago. Parents were young, younger than you two. They haven't been back.” She looked sad, hobbling over to the two younger drones, and motioning to take the baby from Uzi's arms.

For a split second, N saw Uzi try to pull away, as if she wanted to keep the baby away from her. But that was gone a moment later, and she placed the droneling into her arms, the look on her face was indecipherable.

“It happens sometimes. Another week and she'll be put up for adoption, where someone who really wants her can take care of her.” The bottle was empty, and the pillbaby seemed to now be dozing off, purple eyelights dimming.

“Thank you for donating. My oil is getting a little stale at my age!” She laughed, though still smiled at them kindly, before looking at N curiously.

“Did you want to hold her?” She asked and her jumped in surprise. Raising his hands like he was defending himself.

“No! Well yes, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her and-” the baby was placed in his arms, shutting him up immediately, well aside from the “Oh Biscuits…” that came out in a whimper as he cradled them.

Uzi was right, she was warm, but N's sensors indicated she was beginning to cool down, she was also right about her being slightly squishy, as he felt her vents taking in air, and her silicon skin indenting even on a surface as soft as his overcoat sleeve.

He felt as if he had something priceless and oh so very fragile in his hands and he froze, his brain stuck between “this is the cutest thing in the world” and “don't screw up, please don't screw up”.

“You getting sleepy?” He asked, he didn't notice both woman next to him smile at his voice, or the way his tail began to wag as the baby sleepily smiled at him. He rocked them, much like Uzi had done, and slowly three z's appeared on her visor, and she rolled into the fur of his coat.

His core felt heavy, like it was made of solid lead. He felt tears prick on the edges of his visor as he looked up. Holding her close, he could feel a tiny core buzzing.

“She's the cutest thing ever!” He whisper-screamed. Causing both women to smile at him. Uzi's somehow looked bigger, with a look in her eyes that N hadn't seen before, but it made him swell with a warm sense of pride.

“You have good instinct, I hear it in your voice.” Mrs. Rayn said, smiling almost as if she knew something he didn't, though it didn't matter, his eyes were fixed on the droneling in his arms once again.

“I don't… understand how anyone could leave her.” At this, he felt something else rise in his chest, something angry, and protective, still warm but almost unpleasantly so.

“Young people make mistakes, sometimes they rush into things they're not ready for.” She replies sadly, Uzi looked away at her words, crossing her arms, her face falling into something that looked deliberative if not sad.

“Does she have a name?” He asked, reluctantly handing the small child back to the older woman. He could almost still feel the little ones core buzzing against him.

“Tera is what I've been calling her. But once she's adopted that's bound to change.”

“Tera…” He said under his breath, as if tasting the word, a small smile broke through. His eyes lingered on the sleeping pillbaby, before they landed on Uzi, who was taking the bag from Mrs. Rayn with a very polite “Thank you.”

Uzi was beginning to head towards the door, bag in hand, waving goodbye to Mrs. Rayn, who was placing Tera back into her crib. N followed, but not before giving a little wave to the tiny pill.

“Goodnight Tera.”

Next ->

[rosurie]

.౨ৎ.

[saddest-girl-in-the-whole-world]

God, I'm now revisiting Harrow The Ninth and this book is just nothing short of one heartbreak after another.

I can't blame people for forgetting how deeply vulnerable of a person Harrow can be, she is constantly wearing a mask and we only get to hear of her from Gideons perspective, and for good reasons because if she was the one to narrate HtN? It would read as a constant breakdown.

She is dealing with so much that she doesn't understand, not just because she literally lobotomized herself, but also because she was never taught to understand grief. Ever since having to turn her parents into construct, probably even before that, she turned all her grief into guilt, but she can't do it anymore.

The worst part about all of that is that we're constantly being told that Harrow is behaving strange, she's being weird, the lyctors and Jod are treating her like she's some freak that needs fixing, that just needs to stop whining or that just needs to do something normal when she is experiencing the most normal emotions a human can experience.

She's going through grief! She lost the girl that was the whole world to her and they don't get it! Because they're not normal, the most normal person on this ship is Ianthe who shows no signs of grief for Babs whatsoever, they all can't begin to understand that Harrow, maybe for the first time in her life, is being incredibly normal about this situation!

She's being constantly belittled, Ianthe is treating her like a game (a game Ianthe is losing btw), she's being hunted for sport and the guy she thought she worshipped all her life is telling her to just make soup? The only person that even begins to understand her is the drowned out soul of Pyrrha, she's the only person trying to help Harrow and even she can't do much more

Gideon was right she told Ianthe she doesn't know the first thing about Harrow, nobody there did expect for Gideon, and the only thing Gideon could do was watch, it's heartbreaking.