#traumafcrged

[intcthatgoodnight-a2]

@traumafcrged  more incorrect quotes for the murder fam (insp)

[chokethelight]

  “You do know what will happen the moment he realizes I’m close, right? He’ll come after me again. Just like last time.”

( @traumafcrged​ )

[losinmortalesperdidos]

He never thought that it was possible for him to get so obsessed with someone. Until he met her. Twice. He saw her at the party at Alvin Sender’s house, she was singing a song from her first big album, and he immediately understand that she was something new and very special. He approached her, they were introduced to each other, they talked for a while about everything and nothing, and then they were at his place tearing the clothes off each other. And that was just the beginning.

They didn’t establish anything, no one of them was ready for any kind of commitment and both of them were busy. He with making a new movie, she with writing a second album and playing concerts. They weren’t even dating, and no one knew that something was going on between the two. Just from time to time one of them called the other or sent a text, they met and had sex. And the sex was so good, really good like they were two halves of one body. It continued for a few months before he saw her at the same house, at the party he had no idea she was also invited again. 

He just entered the room and was exchanging greetings with other people when he saw her standing at the bar counter with some long-haired guy. They were so close, he was leaning to her, whispering something into her ear, his fingers were stroking the bare skin of her arm, and she was smiling to him, listening, letting him breathe against her face. Roy felt how blood rushed to his neck and his face, his chest began to burn, his head spun. “Who is that guy? Do you know him?” he asked an actress passing him buy. “He’s some kind of a painter, I think Jules brought him.” He was standing there looking at them flirting so shamelessly and not even noticing him when he realized that blood rushed not only upwards. How this guy touched her, how she looked at him, how he looked at her... Roy bit his bottom lip hard and the next moment he was already heading to them, smiling.

“Hey! I know you. You are Petra, the singer, right? Jules Brandenberg showed me the clip he made for you, just last night. That was... unorthodox, you know? I mean, his work is great but you are the centerpiece...“

@traumafcrged​

[masterfultm]

❛ They say that time heals all things —- they say you can always forget. ❜ Petra and Dylan   @traumafcrged​

“Do you even listen to yourself speak?” A simple question as eyes narrowed. “You sound like a child, but I am not a damned baby sitter. I don’t give a shit about you or what you think. You stole from me, Petra. You took what rightfully belonged to me.”

A step towards a goal. Nothing more and nothing less. It would set him back weeks; recovery was possible, but it would still take time. Anger would cloud his judgement, but it was fine. It was just the point that she stole from him that made Dylan angry.

“The Master may think you’re amusing, but I do not. I had to prove myself for years and you? You walk in here like you own everything. Like you have far more weight than I do.”

There was a faint amount of jealousy in there. Not because that Dylan had to work harder. No, it was because she didn’t even have to work at all. She just was there and got far more attention than he’d ever received in all his years. It was . . . infuriating to no end.

“I do not forgive nor do I forget. Not when it comes to you.” Truly, every inch of his body screamed that he should do something to make her pay. It didn’t matter what it was . . . just something, but if it was one thing Dylan feared more than anything? It was the Master’s own wrath. 

A reason to why he stayed his hand. For now.

“Do try to remember that when you fall out of favor.”

[rubiesintherough]

“Do they know where you are? Your family?“  mahia

@traumafcrged​​

     “ I... like to believe that they do. “    Whether or not she truly believed it, though...?  Deep down, no. As much as she hoped, pretended, Mahia knew it was unlikely they had any idea she was even still alive. She wasn’t even sure if the Ancestors --- in all their power and knowledge ---  knew where she was.  No, that was blasphemy. Of course they did. It was simply in their plan for all of this to happen, this death, this pain, this chaos... she had to believe that. If she didn’t...  Mahia realized she’d fallen silent. A quick clearing of her throat and a further reply,   “ If they do, if they are somehow able to see me, I only hope that they have forgiven me for what happened to them... and that they are proud of me. “  

[chokethelight]

    “Did I ever mean anything to you? Be honest. It’s not like i’ll be able to leave anytime soon. Not when that guy came in talking about conversion or something. I think he’s just a little lost in the head, but so far with this,” he gestures towards his hand, which was partially-converted, “my anxiety is getting better.” A lie, it was getting worse, but that didn’t mean that he’d admit that to anyone. Let alone her.”

( @traumafcrged​ )

[intcthatgoodnight-a2]

@traumafcrged​:  “Sometimes it’s like I’ve lived a thousand lives in a thousand places. I’m born, I live, I die.” Petra for Will, Victorian era where Hannibal at least is a vampire whether Will or Petra are (yet) tbd? 

          For a moment he doesn’t say anything, he silently looks over at the blonde as she stares into the fireplace. The flames cast shadows on her pale features making her look almost ghostly. He shuts the book he had been reading, not bothering with marking his spot, and sets it down. He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, letting out a small sigh.

          “It can be easy to get lost. The space of your mind is infinite and if you are not careful you can lose yourself within it.”  They were the same in that way. Kindred spirits who had recognized the shadows in each other’s eyes. He wished that he could better guide the young woman, help her in a way no one had with him; but Will still got lost himself. Some mornings Will would wake unsure of the face that would greet him in the mirror.  “Perhaps you should speak of this with Dr. Lector. Undoubtedly he would have better advice than I.”

[intcthatgoodnight-a2]

@traumafcrged  SENT ME 🗣️ FOR INCORRECT QUOTES OF YOUR MUSE AND MINE

[chokethelight]

    “You either get with the program or I eat you. Understand?”

( @traumafcrged​ )

[intcthatgoodnight-a2]

@traumafcrged

[intcthatgoodnight-a2]

they really said “murder, but make it fashion”

@traumafcrged

[intcthatgoodnight-a2]

@traumafcrged​:  "Your sadness will know no bounds."  Petra and ani

           Lips curl into a snarl, hidden behind his mask, without care for the discomfort it caused. What did this girl know of his sadness? His sadness was only matched by his rage. That rage was all the galaxy would get from him. It burned through him until there was nothing left. It was all he needed. Now his rage turned to her. Dealing with this child must be another punishment thought up by his Master. Vader had no doubt that her usefulness would run its course soon, but his patience was running even thinner.  “Do not speak of things you do not understand. Or they might be the last words you say.”

[intcthatgoodnight-a2]

SERENITY SENTENCE STARTERS // accepting

@traumafcrged:  ❛ This is a good death. There’s no shame in this. ❜ petra & will

          Blood rushes in his ears, pounds through his veins, and drips from his hand. He flexes his hand, the movement and the ache of it feel far away. He can't tear his eyes away from the broken and beaten form below him. No longer is it the familiar maroon eyes and bloody grin, gone are the antlers and featureless void of a face. Randell Tier seems small in death. Will feels too big for his skin, like he might rip apart at the seams, and emerge something entirely new.

          Her soft voice rips him out of his head and back into the present. Will had told Petra to hide, shoving Buster into her arms and pushing her farther back in the house. How much had she seen?

          A good death. He supposed she was right. Randell died as his truest self.

           Will wasn’t sure what to say. The right, and rational thing seemed paltry in the face of what happened. Yet he knew that he would face no judgement from her. He took a deep breath, trying to find his way back to his body. When he finally found his voice it felt as though it came from someone else's throat.  “I need to take care of this. You should stay here.”

[intcthatgoodnight-a2]

WTNV SENTENCE STARTERS // accepting

@traumafcrged​:  "Am I in Hell?” Petra and Will

          Another killer apprehended. Another slew of victims permanently etched into his mind, the killer now an after image burned behind his eyelids. He had been dubbed ‘the dollmaker’, courtesy of Freddie Lounds; his victims were all young women, killed without leaving a mark, their bodies preserved, dressed up, and posed with glass eyes staring from across a table set for tea. Too beautiful to live.

          But there was a survivor. Drugged and traumatized, Petra Nikovivich had been rushed to the hospital, her would-be killer dragged off in cuffs. Will had gotten the call this morning that she had woken up. Jack was out in the hall, speaking with the doctor, as Will entered the hospital room. 

          She spoke before he had a chance to introduce himself, he frowned at the soft, accented voice, and wondered if she was even lucid enough to question.  “No, you’re in the hospital.”  he replied in a clipped tone, before shaking his head at himself. Taking off his glasses, he turned his gaze down to them for a moment, then slipped them away in his pocket.  “My name is Will Graham, I’m with the FBI. I was hoping to speak with you, if you were feeling up to it.”

[chokethelight]

❛ Reality exists in the human mind, and nowhere else. ❜ Petra and axel @traumafcrged​

       “And when this is finished, what will I be then?” He could feel that it was close. When he’d be taken in the middle of the night to be experimented on. He already knew by what happened last time that he wouldn’t survive the next round. He already could feel the metal around him; even though nothing was there. It was a painful feeling . . . to know what was going to happen, but be unable to stop it.

“If reality exists . . . when you’re human. In your mind, what happens when you're changed? Trapped behind a sheet of steal . . . deleted soul, upgraded body, what am I?”

[masterfultm]

❛ We have every reason to be afraid. ❜ Petra & Dylan @traumafcrged​

   “You have every reason, but I don’t. I trust the Master. I trust him more than anyone.” Not to mention that Dylan wasn’t going to allow a pet to get between him and the Time Lord. Not that Dylan would admit that he longed to be more than a companion, but anyone who truly knew him could see that. “If he says he’ll come back. Doubt is unbecoming of someone who is allowed to stay in the TARDIS.”

Maybe that was a slight amount of jealousy, but truly, he didn’t care. Dylan was secured in his place. He was the one who’d travel with the master and Petra was just a pet. Nothing more than a distraction and someone to keep around. Barely even able to take care of herself if Dylan was being honest, but still . . . quite possibly a threat.

“Do you know how long i’ve been here? Longer than you’ve been around.”

Not that Dylan actually remembered how old he was; he just started counting days and eventually years after quite some time. He didn’t even remember Earth; not the time he came from at least. That was another life; not his own. It never was his.

“I know what the Master is capable of. He’s a Time Lord and someone who’s traveled the world for countless eons. You should be lucky you’re even here. You should be lucky . . . he didn’t have you killed like most.”

Not that it mattered now. The Master liked her and Dylan couldn’t just add her to his collection. Well, he could, but he’d rather avoid the wrath of the Master if possible. A reason to why he couldn’t do anything drastic - much do his dismay.

“Then again, you haven’t seen my workshop, have you? I’m sure you’ve heard the screams. Maybe even some begging to stop, but here’s the thing,” Dylan says, pausing for a moment. “I make the Master’s wrath look like a blessing in there. Is that understood?”