#you can trust him not to remove you from your current time and space

[mayhemmaybe]

[torturedtypewritersdept]

blue eyes + bruises - part ten

✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

Rafe drove slowly, almost too slow, careful not to jostle your body anymore that he absolutely had to, though the potholes of New York were not helping his case. He looked in the rearview mirror as he switched lanes, watching as car after car zoomed past him, some even giving him the middle finger, frustrated at how slow he was driving. He didn’t care, though. If those people had cargo as precious as you, if they had been through what you had, they’d drive slow too. As he prepared to change lanes again, he flipped his turn signal on and looked into his mirrors once more, noting your sweet face as you slept and smiled to himself. He removed his right hand from the wheel and moved it, reaching around the seat and fumbling with his hand until he found yours, gently rubbing circles into it. For the first time in a long time, Rafe was at peace. You were mostly healthy again and you had agreed to be his, to live with him, to be in his presence every single day – he wasn’t sure that he could be more happy than he currently was as he thought about the fact that out of everyone, you chose to trust him.  He continued his pursuit, stopping only when he pulled into a handicapped parking space in his apartment complex. He turned the vehicle off, moving slowly but surely as he opened the backseat on the driver’s side and carefully pulled you into his arms, cradling you as completed the journey between his truck and the door of the apartment. He left your crutches in the car, telling himself he’d retrieve them tomorrow because tonight, he was going to carry you everywhere and he wasn’t concerned about your objections. You stirred only slightly as you felt the earth mix with the up and down movements of Rafe’s biceps as he took step after step until they stopped and started again as the air changed and suddenly, you were laying wrapped in blankets on a surface that was much more comfortable than the hospital mattress you had spent every night on for the last few months. You let out a soft grunt and he stood above you, kneeling down to make himself eye level with you as he brushed your hair out of your face. 

“Hey, sleepy girl. We’re home, baby. You can rest for a while and I'll make us dinner in a little while.” 

You hummed in response, slowly nodding and drifting back to sleep, the warmth of the blankets and the smell of Rafe lingering on the sheets helping aid in your slumber. 

-

The smell of pepperoni stirred you awake and you weren’t sure if your dream of living in an Italian villa had come true until you opened your eyes and took in the essence of Rafe’s room. You took in your surroundings; the black lamp that stood on the wooden bedside table, the blue curtains that seemed to line the entire wall, and the white record player that sat in a corner by the bookshelf. You were covered by what seemed to be one hundred different blankets and you smiled at that fact, knowing that Rafe wanted you to be warm and you had remained cold continuously for the months you were confined to the hospital. You liked that he paid attention to the little things. There was a soft mumbling and sounds of instruments breaking through the crack in the bedroom door and you sat up, straining to hear. You smiled as Rafe’s singing broke through the noise, the words of ‘she will be loved’ by maroon five escaping his lips. You scrambled to sit up further, but winced at the pain that ran up your leg and into your hip. Quickly realizing that you couldn’t move without pain, you laid back down and called for Rafe and before you knew it, his blue eyes were tracing your figure. 

“Hey. How're you feeling, baby?” 

He asked sweetly, leaning his palm down to brush over your hair. 

“It hurts a lot.” 

You whined, doing your best not to let your tear ducts pool water into your eyes. 

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. You can have some more medicine when you eat, okay? I’ll just go grab it and I'll be right back.” 

He went to turn away and head into the kitchen to plate your food, but you pulled his arm back before he could get out of your grasp. 

“Please, take me to the living room. Don’t make me eat here.” 

You pleaded with him and despite his objections, he caved, knowing that you had been lying in bed for months and you just wanted to feel normal again. 

“Okay, baby. Wrap your arms around the back of my neck.” 

He instructed and you obliged, interlocking your fingers around the back of his neck as he squatted, picking you up bridal style. You marveled at the way his muscles contracted underneath you; the back and forth of tightening and loosening could be felt against you as his chest and biceps contracted with each movement he made. He carries you down the hall to the living room, which is adorned with a wall of old records and family photos. He stopped in front of the couch, which had a chase connected to it and sat you down gently, moving to throw some blankets over you and placing your injured leg on two pillows. 

“How’s that, baby?” 

He questioned, searching your eyes for any signs of discomfort. 

“It’s good, Rafe. Thank you.” 

You responded with a soft smile and he made his way over to the kitchen which was only a few feet away with the open floor plan of the apartment. He quickly grabbed disposable plates and placed the homemade pepperoni pizza he made for the two of you onto them. He brought them to the living room, sitting them down on the coffee table before making his way back into the kitchen to grab two bottles of water and your medicine. You watched his stride as he came back to you, plopping next you on the gray couch cushions and reaching an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. 

“How was your nap, baby? Did you sleep well? If not, we can get you some different meds. You just say the word, okay?” 

You giggled at his caring nature, always making sure you were taken care of before anything else. 

“I slept well, baby. Don’t worry, the meds have helped a lot.” 

He nodded slightly, leaning in and placing a kiss on your temple as he wrapped his palm around the back of your head. 

“Can I have my pizza now?” 

You asked and he giggled, reaching for the plate and grabbing it off the table before setting it in your lap. You picked up a slice and took a big whiff, the smell of homemade pizza was never something you thought you would’ve taken for granted before your accident, but now, the smell was intoxicating and you were grateful; tears pooling in your eyes at the domesticity of it all. 

“Eat up, pretty girl and I’ll give you some more medicine.” 

He said simply, placing a kiss on your temple once more and you nodded in response, taking bite after bite of the delicious food in front of you. Rafe moved to grab the remote once the both of you were finished conversing about you finally being home, turning on one of your favorites, Mama Mia and pulling you into his chest. You laid blissfully against him, your leg stretched out on pillows in between his legs. Once you had taken your medicine, it wasn’t long before your breaths evened out and you slept peacefully against Rafe’s core. He looked down smiling as he brushed stray pieces of hair away from your face and leaned down to place his lips on the top of your head. 

“Goodnight, pretty girl.” 

He whispered, the blissful sound of your soft snores grounding him enough that for the first time in years, Rafe felt peace. 

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @akobx @allsmilesreally7 @wtfdudesblog @urdreamgirl12 @hockeybabe87 @sereneera @annaconscience @pogueprincesa @bibissparkles @obxbigsis @jjmaybankmylovee @kulekehe

[echo-of-damnation]

Sugar So Sweet

Part 2

AH! My internet works now! i can now post this here (its also on my ao3)

Tags: Jago Sevatarion/Fem!Reader, caged reader, hella smut, master/pet, impregnation, mild degradation(? i mean its petification and he cums on the cage), collared

Echo's echo: I had to join the caged up pet gang. Inspired by @lemon-russ and her *chefs kiss* wonderful Morty fic series, but this is love for my bat boys. I know Sev would treat me the reader right <3

Summary: To say you loved your life was a criminal understatement. You lived in a life of luxury that few could ever even conceive possible. You had the finest foods, a soft warm bed, and the knowledge that you were probably the safest person in the entire universe. All you had to do was be the best little pet for the head of the ship, Jago Sevatarion.

Words: 2,869

To say you loved your life was a criminal understatement. You lived in a life of luxury that few could ever even conceive possible. You had the finest foods, a soft warm bed, and the knowledge that you were probably the safest person in the entire universe. All you had to do was be the best little pet for the head of the ship, Jago Sevatarion. He was a dominating figure both in and out of your shared room with his pitch-black eyes and scar that split his face eye to upper lip. But once you two were alone together, he was more than attentive.

You roused from your little nap at the sound of familiar footsteps echo down the hall towards your room. Rolling into your side to face the door, you cozy into the little nest of pillows, sinfully soft blankets, and stuffed animals from all the planets your floating world in the cage Sev had provided for you. Your favorite stuffie was a large teddy bear that was almost as big as you that you would cuddle during the nights Sev was planet side. Your own safe space in the dark ship for when he wasn’t around to protect you, saying once he didn’t trust his brothers that shared the ship with you sending warmth through your body at the thought that he cared for you so much that he gave you this wonderful spot.

Knowing the rules for when your Master entered the room, you lazily dug yourself out of the pile of fluff sitting on your knees and straightened the collar so that the tag with Sev’s name sat perfectly between your collar bones. You wore it with pride and loved when you were let out to walk the ship with him and his brothers and the serfs could see who you belonged to, who controlled your entire world. It is the only thing you were allowed to wear along with the cuffs on both of your ankles with their little bells.

The chill of the room sent a shiver down your spine, causing your nipples to harden. The heavy door opened, and your heart skipped a beat as it always did when Sev came into the room, if you had a tail, it would have been going crazy at the sight of him. Letting the door close and lock behind him, Jago walked over to the table that held the tools and supplies to maintenance his weapons and armor. You watched him longing as he slowly removed each piece of his heavy armor. You could see new scratches and dents from his latest time on the surface of the planet he was currently in charge of.

You didn’t know exactly what he did there, simply telling you that it was no concern of pets what their Masters did. All you knew is that sometimes it was a hard job he did, sometimes coming back and leaving you in your cage for days as he would sleep and leave again. Somedays he would let you out just to lick him clean of the dark metallic substance that would cover his boots, hands, and face. One those days he would fuck you for his release only just to lock you away again. Yelling if he caught you trying to get yourself off. You feared today would be one of those days. He hadn’t spoken to you, let alone touched you for what felt like a week and the ache in your sex grew each day you watched him leave.

Once Jago had finished, he stripped himself out of the skintight black suit that provided insulation. Your mouth watered as you saw his heavy cock for the first time that day. A needy whine involuntarily escaped your throat as you watched him lazily stroke it, trying to return some blood flow to it after being held in by the tight undersuit. Jagos eyes looked over at you slowly, the warning clear. You weren’t allowed to make any sounds until he permits you. He took that privilege away from you some months ago when you kept bombarding him with questions about his time off the ship. You had only forgotten that rule once and it had taken the bruises on your ass a week to fade from the punishment. Snapping your mouth shut and turning your eyes down, you tried to pull yourself together as to not annoy your Master again.

A few moments of silence passed until you could hear the dull thuds of his bare feet walking toward you. Once they stopped, he lightly kicked the cage to grab your attention. With a jump from the sudden sound of the kick drew your eyes up to meet him. He stood just inches from the cage, still lazily stroking his now half hard cock. Your eyes grew wide, pleading with them to let you touch it, to taste it, to feel its weight pressed on your tongue. This little trick would work on occasion but on this day, Sev was not feeling so kind. He just continued to stroke himself until you could see the veins that deliciously start to bulge out. His other hand coming down to play with his balls as high breathing started to quicken. All the while all you could do was watch longingly at his cock as the first few drops of pre cum dribbled out, wishing to run your tongue against the tip of the head to taste him.

After a few more quick pumps, he was cumming on the bars of the cage. Some of it making it onto your face and chest. Feeling the warm liquid drip down your skin sent a rush of slick out of your needy pussy. Once he was done, he turned and walked toward the shower in the adjoining bathroom, calling over your shoulder, “Clean it up before I return.” The command punctuated with the closing of the bathroom door.

You sat there, half stunned, half desperate for a moment. It wasn’t unusual for Sav to cover you in his cum, sometimes he would even make you walk the halls of the ship with it dripping down your face and chest, but never had he denied you from helping. The sound of the shower turning on and the muffled hum of Sev brought you back to reality and you began to clean his mess. Deciding to start with the cage bars, you began collecting his seed with your fingers, curling them around each bar to make sure every drop is dealt with. After each pass, you brought your fingers to your mouth, savoring the slight salty flavor of his cum. The flavor coated your tongue with each new cleaning of your fingers. You could feel as it slipped to the back of your throat and down into your belly, causing you to double your efforts with pathetic desperation. All you could think about was his cum. When the bars were almost clean you began to use your tongue, curling the muscle around each cold bar, imagining you were given the honor of cleaning off the cold metal of his power armor.

With the bars clean, you turned to clean yourself. Dragging your hand over your chest to collect the slowly cooling seed, letting it cover your nipples in a little act of defiance of being denied some sort of pleasure. Bringing your hand back to your mouth to clean it, you finish by cleaning your face just as you hear the water stop. Looking around you decided that you had done the best that you could and waited for your Master to return to you so he could see how good of a job you had done.

Sev returned to the main room in a cloud of steam, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. He walked over to your cage and inspected it for a long moment before looking at you, a slight smile turning up the damaged part of his face. “What a good girl,” he said while bending slightly to finally let you out of your cage. A smile tearing across your face as his praise washes over you. Once the door is opened, you crawl out, stretching out your limbs, enjoying the slight soreness from being confined in the small space for so long.

Sev walked over and sat on the bed, reaching into the drawer of the bedside table to pull out the brush he had bought for you. You watched him patiently until he was ready for you. “Come now pet, its time to brush you out,” he called to you.

You obediently crawled over on your hands and knees to him the bells on your ankle cuffs jingling lightly with each movement, a sweet reminder that your wonderful Master would always be able to find you no matter where you went off to. At his feet Sev patted his legs and you carefully climbed up onto him, sitting with your back to him, he began softly brushing your hair. It had been a few months since he brushed it for you. Recently you had to get yourself ready for anytime he wanted you, too tired to do it. Whatever changed this day you didn’t care. You loved the feeling of his large hands holding you, moving you where he needed you. You bathed in the affection he gave you when he tenderly detangled your hair, he hated if he got tangled in it when he would pull your hair.

“You may speak now, little one,” he said as he worked the soft brush down through the ends of your hair.

“Thank you, Sir. I have missed you,” your voice harsh with disuse.

He only hummed his response as he reached back into the drawer for a ribbon to tie your hair back. “You will accompany me today on the deck. You will be on your best behavior and do whatever I tell you,” He told you as he tied it into a bow, “We will be having guests.”

It wasn’t common for guests to come aboard but it was an even rarer case for you to be allowed to join Sev as he entertained them. “Where will I be, Sir?” curiosity overcoming you. “You will kneel by my feet at the captain’s chair. If the meeting runs longer than expected I may allow you nap at my feet,” he told you as he finished with your hair and put away the brush. Pulling you closer to his chest, causing your legs to slide to the outside of his, opening you, “First we must take care of something here,” he purred into your ear as he brought one of his large hands to cup your sex. “My my, little pet you are so wet.”

Your eyes closed on their own as you felt his fingers start to slip between your lower lips, spreading your wetness over your cunt. “Y-yes Sir. I was a good girl, and I waited,” it came out as a shudder as Sev started to slowly roll your sensitive clit between his fingers.

“Yes, you have been my sweetling and as a treat I will give you a gift,” Sev kept working your clit, tightening the coil in your lower belly, moving his other hand down to begin to finger you. A moan fell from your gaping mouth as your hole stretched around two of his large fingers. Pumping them in and out of you at a steady pace causing your slick to begin to drip down his hand.

He began nipping at your neck, “You take my fingers so well. That’s it, work yourself open for me.”

His teeth biting into your neck shot fire through you, his sharp teeth leaving marks on your skin. Humping back onto his fingers doubling your efforts, bracing your hands on his knees so you wouldn’t lose your balance. Your needy and pathetic moans echo around the room mixing with the obscene squelching of Sev’s fingers in your sopping pussy. Your muscles tightening around him as your climax built up in you.

Feeling your pussy pull him deeper in, Sev let out a groan and pulled both of his hands away from you. Leaving you on the brink of an orgasm. You let out a cry at the loss of stimulation. Your cunt feeling painfully empty. Before you could ask why, Sev lifted you up easily and set you down on his cock. Not giving you any moment to adjust to the sheer size of him, his fingers being little help to work you open. He began fucking into you with his own desperation for release now.

“So tight, so warm. My pet perfect just for me,” Sev growled into your neck. “A little toy just for me, to use and fill as I want. Isn’t that right pet?”

“Y-yes!” was all you could get out as he pushed himself deeper into you, feeling him push against your womb.

“Yes what?” he said, bringing a hand up to pull painfully at your nipple. His displeasure in your pathetic answer clear.

“Yes Sir! I am your good pet! So good! My cunt made just for you,” you began to cry as your orgasm built back up, the rough thrusting of his cock in you becoming almost too much to bear.

“Good girl. Yes, your pussy is just for me,” taking his hand from your nipple back down to your clit, pinching it between his fingers. A scream mixed with a moan leave you at the new sensation. “Would you like your gift now?” he said in between his thrusts into you.

“Please! Yes, Sir please. I’ve been good,” your head was starting to spin with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

Moaning into you, he quickened his pace, bringing his other hand to rest just below your belly button. You knew he could feel himself just below your skin. “My good girl deserves her treat. I’m going to cum in you. Fill you up till your belly bulges. How does that sound?” You could only nod your head, unable to form words. The only sound your body could produce was your desperate moans.

“I’ll fuck my cum into your pretty womb. Fill it with my seed till your round with my sons,” his rhythm skipping as he approached his climax, “Keep you fat with my children. Let everyone see that my pet was a greedy whore for my cum.” Weak pleas fell from your lips, trying to let your Master know that you wanted nothing more than to show off your devotion to him by carrying his sons.

A few more thrusts and he was filling you, his cum warming your belly. True to his word he filled you until a little bulged formed just under his hand on your belly. You followed him soon after feeling his cum in you. Your pussy gripping down onto his cock, milking him empty. Falling back against him as your body went limp with the power of your orgasm. Sev slowly rubbing your middle, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “You took me so well, sweetling. We must go now though. Our guests will be arriving soon, and I don’t want to be the last to show,” he said as he slowly pulled out of you. Some of his cum leaked out and he placed a hand over your hole. “No no, be a good girl and keep it in you. I don’t want my gift to go to waste.”

Too tired to speak, you weakly nod, trying your best to tighten your abused hole to keep his seed inside of you. He let you catch your breath a moment longer before pushing you off his lap and onto your feet, steading you as you regained your balance. Grabbing your hand, he led you over to the table with his armor so that you would be able to put it back on him. Trying your hardest to focus on the task as the after glow of your orgasm radiated through you.

Once he was redressed and armored, he turned to you, lifting your chin up with one of his fingers so that he could place the tenderest kiss against your lips. You melted into his touch as a purr came from your chest. Sev pulled back, a small smile on his lips as he tidied your hair back up. Taking a golden chain that sat on the edge of the table, he hooked one end onto your collar and the other to a ring on his hip, connecting you to him.

Leading you out of the room you fell into step behind him, as you both walked toward the helm. Your head held high as the other occupants of the ship averted their eyes as you and your Master walked past. You could feel his cum slowly leak out with every step you took, one of your hands coming to rest where your womb would be. Pride filling you as you thought about becoming pregnant with his sons and wishing that this time will be the one that does it.

[nophunleague]

stare decisis: chapter seventeen - natus

natus: latin for son

masterlist

wc: 1138

rafael barba x original female character

“So we’re taking Johnny D. to trial and you’re just now telling me that Noah is his biological son?” Quinn’s eyes are wide, a blaze of fire glowing behind them. 

“I only found out recently, and I wasn’t at liberty to discuss it,” Barba’s hands are up by his ears in defense. The charged encounter is happening across the thoroughfare in their shared office spaces, each attorney standing in the threshold of their office. 

“He is having people killed in a manner that would make Noah a target and you didn’t think I should know?” pale fingers comb through warm hued hair, the pulsepoint in her throat bounces erratically under her skin. He moves to his office and sits at his desk with her hot on his heels.

“He’s not going to kill his own son,” Barba laughs it off.

“He killed the mother of his child! Literally set her on fire!” her voice raises an octave and she takes two steps closer to his desk. The slightest whiff of diesel fuel dances through her subconscious. 

“It was trusted to me in a personal capacity. It wasn’t my secret to tell,” his nonchalant attitude only angers her more, steam practically blows out of her ears. Two more steps and she throws her hands down on his desk.

“You do not get to send us into a trial without telling me all of the information,” the flush in her neck has reached her jawline by now, glowing blue eyes pierce his skin as she dares him to brush it off again. They stay there, frozen, daring the other one to speak. “You do not get to send me in there to be blindsided while you hold all of the cards,” this time it's a whisper through gritted teeth. Her hands push her off of the desk, backing up she crosses her arms over her chest while continuing to stare him down. 

“So you get to keep secrets and I don’t?” he never backs down from wanting to have the last word.

“My secrets aren’t at issue on the merits in a felony case we’re currently prosecuting. Use your brain,” she spits then spins to exit. 

She slams her office door behind her, the wham of the wooden door in the wooden frame causes her to jump, eyes snapping shut at the sound. Upon opening her eyes again she’s met with a view of not her office but of the camp in Iraq, smoke from the burn pit flows through her nostrils while her feet sink into the sand. Blinking again she finds herself back in the office. 

“God dammit!” she shouts, hands tugging at her hair begging her to snap out of it. Her hands being unsuccessful remove themselves from her hair and instantly reach out to one of the chairs on the other side of her desk. Her ragged breath doesn’t allow her time to think it through, she flips the chair through the air with great speed. 

The sound of the wood clashing onto the floor releases something within her. Her eyes set on the second chair, which is flying into the wall before she can blink. White hot rage warms her body as she moves to her bookshelf next, pulling book by book from the shelf to discard them on the floor. She’s halfway through the shelf when a hand appears on her shoulder. She grabs the wrist attached to it and spins its owner face first into the bookshelf, holding their wrist to the middle of their back. 

“Quinn, what the hell?” the male voice breaks her trance. Blinking around she notices the destruction she’s just participated in. Books lay open and strewn through the room, the chairs she’s thrown are upturn and stacked against a wall. “Quinn,” her eyes trace her arm from the shoulder down to her hand that is holding him in place. 

“Oh, fuck,” releasing him, she removes herself from his proximity, back against the opposite wall. A groan escapes his lips as he massages his shoulder, he takes two steps toward her but she throws her hands up in caution. “No, don’t,” her voice is soft as she pushes her back further into the wall behind her. 

“I’m okay. Are you okay?” his voice is gentle as he tries to take another step toward her, she responds with a shriek. 

“Don’t come near me!” wild blue eyes inventory the room once more before landing on the door. “I can’t be here,” her feet carry her from her’s and Barba’s office spaces and out of the courthouse. 

Sonny watches from her office doorway while Barba stands in his. 

“What the hell just happened?” Barba’s eyes peer around Sonny’s figure, falling on the chaos of the office. Sonny’s blue eyes are wide as they also survey the damage.

“Something is wrong with Quinn.”

***

Quinn is sweaty and out of breath when she returns to the office an hour later. Her cheeks are flushed and her normally pin straight hair is tangled into a rats nest at her shoulders. The clicks of her heels give her away as she rounds the door to her office. She takes a deep breath before opening the door she had slammed behind her not long ago. 

The room is no longer in disarray, he stands on the other side of the room, re-shelving the last of the books. His eyes turn to meet her, “did you go on a run?” 

Her eyes count the threads in the carpet, “yes.”

“In heels?”

“Yes.”

“What is going on with you?” her eyes remain down, the shift in the air tells her he’s fully facing her now. She raises her eyes just enough to see that he’s placed his hands in his pockets. 

Her walls snap up to guard her, fake smile falling to her lips. “Just having a bad day. You picking a fight with me didn’t help.”

“Bullshit,” the quick quip draws a sharp breath out of her lungs. 

“This,” he motions to the room, “was more than a bad day aggravated by having to work with me. We’ve been through those, this was different,” cautiously, he takes the tiniest of steps in her direction but stops when he notices her back pressed against the wall. 

“Please, I can’t talk about it right now,” just barely a whisper reaches his ears.

“You have to talk about it at some point, if not with me, with someone else,” his brow furrows with concern as he watches her fingers pick at the hem of her blouse. 

The woman standing before him is a subdued, torn down version of the woman he met last year. Realizing a response from her isn’t on the way, he gingerly moves past her, gauging her body language before placing a light hand on her shoulder. 

[paranoidginger]

Respawn Malfunction- Destabilization-3

Characters: Spy (TF2), Medic (TF2), Engineer (TF2)

TW: Body Horror, Dark Themes, Needles

Nearly two months had passed since the initial incident, and Medic had managed to regain most of the Spy's trust again, getting his answers despite his silent wishes that he would be able to witness the Destabilization process first-hand.

It had been one of the rare times that their team won, and going into the weekend it was a wonderful way to raise everyone's spirits for the next week's battles, not to mention that it gave Medic time to mull over his data and theories as to what had gone wrong to cause such a severe malfunction in the team's Spy that handful of weeks ago.

What the Medic wasn't expecting, was for the Engineer to bust down his door after Saturday's breakfast, half-carrying the Spy; his current object of interest within his studies. Nor did he expect his silent wish to be answered.

"Doc! Something's wrong with Spy!" Engineer called sharply, helping his partner to sit down as the Medic set aside his reading and moved to meet the pair, tipping the Spy's chin up slightly to get a clearer look at his face once he arrived.

"Tell me vhat is going on, meine freund." Medic said quietly, letting go of the Spy's face and looking to Engineer as his patient remained silent, save for his raspy and unsteady breathing.

"W-We were in the workshop, an' I was goin' tah work on his gear a bit, and he just started tippin' over... I-I caught 'im but he's burnin' up, and he's got that scared look in 'is eyes, scared the livin' daylights outta me-" The Engineer explained as quickly as he could, his ramblings interrupted by the Medic as he pulled Spy to his feet once again.

A look of fear crossed the Spy's face as he folded in on himself, clasping a hand over his mouth as his labored breaths turned to hacking coughs, only standing by the will of the Medic, who diligently kept him on his feet.

"Ve will have to move quickly zhen! Engineer please help our dear spy undress, You can pull zhat curtain to make a little private room, I vill be right back." With that, Medic shifted the Spy's weight over to Engineer who hesitantly nodded, carefully helping Spy to the little area and pulling the curtain shut.

Medic arrived moments later with a large plastic bin, a barely contained grin on his face as he set it on the floor of the curtained space. Any real worry for the other man simply overridden by his curiosities. As long as he remembered not to put his hands through him, he wouldn't be hurting him, and he would respawn in one piece again anyway.

"Spy, in zhe bin please!" He spoke in a cheerful tone, gesturing to the plastic tote as he moved to help the man step into the container and sit down, his body still wracking with choking breaths and hot pain that spread throughout his chest and abdomen.

"What in sam-hill are you doin' all this for? First you ask me to undress the man now you're puttin' him in this?" Engineer gestured to the container, his heart aching as the man he loved stared fearfully towards him, the only part of him still covered being his head, thanks to the balaclava that Engineer knew he rarely removed. "You're treatin' him like some sorta lab rat, Doc, this doesn't seem much like helping him! I just don't understand-"

"Ah, zhe explanation vill show itself shortly, I'm certain of it! I'm sure our dear kamerad vill be greatful for your support, as vell!" Medic chimed, reaching down and grabbing the bottom edge of the Spy's balaclava. "I apologize, meine freund, can't have zhis getting in zhe vay again."

The Medic paused as the man's clumsy and quivering hands grabbed at his wrists to no avail as the medic peeled away his mask, the surface of his skin growing shiny and slick as he tried to speak, only to find his lips unable to part, and breaths impossible to take as he began to grab at his face, quiet gurgles the only sound he could make, his hands pulling away from his face with thick strands of viscous fluid.

The Engineer took a small step back, a look of horror and disgust across his face as he watched the Spy's face melt and contort, the other man's eyes rolling back slightly as the parts of his body that should have been solid and bone began to collapse in on themselves.

Spy wanted to scream... He wanted and he tried, but the only sounds he could manage were small bubbling gurgles as his body burned and liquefied, the sounds he could still make slowly fading as the small amount of air still trapped inside of him escaped, leaving him mute and defenseless.

All Engineer could do was stand and watch in absolute horror as the minutes dragged on, and his lover quite literally melted in front of him, a hand covering his mouth as he watched in silence.

Medic, on the other hand had been watching intently, taking careful notes as the process went on, ethics clouded by curiosity and morbid interest as he simply watched and waited.

Slowly, the Spy's entire being dissolved into itself as the others observed, leaving nothing but a thick, translucent fluid in the bottom of the container he had been made to sit in, and the man's eyes by the time the process was complete.

"Doc..." The Engineer finally broke the silence, his voice cracking and quivering ever so slightly as he spoke "W-what did I just watch..."

"A respawn malfunction at its peak! Zhis happened just a couple of veeks ago as well!"

"Spy ain't respawned since yesterday, sawbones, how can you think this is because of that machine?!" Engineer spoke quickly, hesitating for a moment before walking up to the bin and kneeling down beside it. "This just ain't right..."

"I zhink zhis one vas delayed for some reason, like an incubation period on a virus, except zhe result is Spy turning into zhis slime! By all means it should kill him, but as far as I know, He is still completely alive in zhat state!"

"He's still... Oh God..." He looked down at the contents of the bin, covering his mouth once again as he watched the thick substance slowly congeal into a round-ish sort of shape, the Spy's eyes moving to look up at him.

Hesitantly, the Engineer lowered his gloved hand into the large container and gently touched the side of the gelatinous mass that had once been the Spy, watching as his surface rippled in a small, neat pattern, inching closer and stretching slightly into the Engineer's gloved palm.

"Can you... Is there a way to fix this?" The Engineer asked quietly, sparing a desperate glance at the team's doctor before returning his gaze to the Spy.

"I have no idea! Zhe last time, I ran a few tests und zhen euthanized him via electric shock. Zhe method vas quite messy though, I vas cleaning bits of him out of zhe lab for days after he exploded." He shrugged "I could try a couple more zhings vith him, if you don't mind"

"If you're not gonna just fix this, it's better to just put him down... Watchin' that happen to him... It looked like it hurt... There's no way to tell if he's still hurtin' either." There was a pained look on his face, tears stinging at his eyes beneath his goggles as he carefully traced his gloved hand over the rippling surface of what had once been the Spy... That still was the Spy.

"I could see if zhe medigun has any effect. I can also see vhat injectable painkillers could do." He wrote something else in his notes before leaving the small curtained area, returning with his medigun and a box full of syringes and various injectables. "Up to you vich ones ve try first, meine hard-hatted freund!"

The Spy's gelatinous form inched closer to the Engineer, his surface rippling harder than before as his eyes turned to look up at the doctor, The Engineer watching carefully as the blob that was Spy moved and pulsed.

"Just try the medigun, Doc... He looks scared..." The Engineer responded in a careful tone, still cupping his hand around the Spy's side.

The Medic shrugged slightly, turning on the medigun and aiming it at the Spy, watching carefully as the Spy seemed to relax, the pulsing of his rippling surface slowing and eventually stopping and his rounded form flattening slightly.

"Oh! Zhat's an interesting reaction!" The Medic chirped leaning in a bit closer to the bin and propping the medigun on his knee as he reached out to lightly poke at the Spy with his gloved hand.

Engineer watched worriedly as the blob in the large container pulled quickly away from the medic, a pair of nubs forming and wrapping around his hand.

"Ohoh! Look at zhat! Zhe medigun must have stabilized him in a vay zhat he can move... He's even got little hand nubs!"

"I... I don't think we should keep goin' like this, Doc..." The Engineer's brows furrowed as he looked to the Medic, a frown crossing his lips.

"He should be fine like zhis for just a little longer, I have so many more tests to run!"

It took some time, but the Engineer was able to talk sense into Medic, protective over the translucent mush that had become of his Spy as the pair decided on how to make him respawn again.

Eventually, Medic decided on acid, testing it on one of the samples he had taken the first time and watching as it destroyed and dissolved the sample swiftly and with no remains.

Once the short test was finished, the Engineer stood and gathered the Spy's things, leaving the defenceless blob alone with the doctor as he departed for the respawn chamber.

The Medic knelt down beside the plastic tub, a grim expression on his face and a large syringe filled with the eroding chemical, making eye contact as the Spy's amorphous form pulsed and rippled.

"I apologize, zhis vill hurt, it is simply zhe most efficient method I can zhink of. At least it vill be over quickly." The Medic gently patted the Spy, taking a small breath before inserting the needle into his gel-like body.

The needle stung as it made its way into him, pressure building up and sending splitting pain through him before the burning began, the acid eating a gaping hole through him as it slowly made it to his eyes, his world going black before the agony finally disappeared along with his consciousness.

Engineer was there, already waiting as the respawn machine pieced the Spy back together, shoving his consciousness into the new body as the man wobbled slightly on his feet, blinking as the Engineer quickly moved up to him, carefully looking him over.

"You're not feelin' like you're gonna melt again, are you?" Engineer asked quickly, pulling Spy into a hug, feeling as the taller man returned the gesture, burying his face in the Engineer's shoulder as he began to cry. "Shhh... it's okay sunshine... It's alright... Come on now, let's get you dressed."

Engineer carefully helped him along, concern still clear on his face as he helped the Spy with his mask, making sure it sat evenly on the man's face before cupping his cheeks in his hands and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I won't let this happen again... I-I don't know what I'd do if you got stuck like that..." The Engineer spoke softly looking up at the Spy's face "I don't care what it takes... I'm gonna fix that machine so it doesn't happen again."

"Thank you, mon amour... I-I do not know what I would do if I were to get stuck like that either..." The Spy whispered, gently resting his forehead against the Engineer's, both of them hoping that the incident never repeated again.

-------------------------------------------------

@thatonesimp-e @sprite-or-something

[bereft-reeling]

If Time Could Watch Us Now

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66124093/chapters/170410333

Chapter One:

He hasn't moved out yet. He's been looking so it's not for lack of trying. So it's another late night and they're drinking. And Eddie says something brave.

"I have something to confess."

"I'm all ears." Buck slurs.

"I'm gay, like full rainbow."

"Oh, that's, you're- can you repeat that?"

"I want to fuck men and have hopefully some relationships with men."

"I'm proud of you and I'm honored you decided and like, trusted me enough to tell me this big thing. This changes nothing between us."

Buck pulls him into a big hug and squeezes him. It feels nice, it feels, stable. He tries not to think about what that feeling is. The one he could almost say feels like coming home. Like when he lies in bed next to Christopher. Something like that.

"So, you should download some apps, I'll take your pictures."

***

That's how they end up in Eddie's room, staging the bed with pillows and a nice throw. Buck takes a look at Eddie in his boxers, having stripped.

"Hold on, I'll be back."

He leaves Eddie there. Who is currently half hard. He feels dirty using Buck like this. But that's maybe also a turn on. Buck returns with a pair of stalkings and a satin black thong. One that rests high on the hips to accentuate the waist.

"Change into this, oh and uh, you should probably get hard, for the photos."

"Right uh, are you going to stay in here?"

"If that's okay?" He nods his consent and removes his boxers, careful not to catch his tip on the elastic.

Buck takes a deep breath when his semi is freed. His eyes glued to the scene before him. He slowly slides them all the way off. He doesn't know what they're doing. Buck starts to take photos as he dresses. Putting on the thong first, he's never worn one before. Shannon asked him to once, he was too ashamed then. Now he doesn't know how he feels. But now with Buck there's safety.

The flash goes off as he pulls the fishets into place, he preens, it goes off again. He stands once everything is in place. Buck comes over to show him how to position himself on the bed. Ass up, back arched. Buck takes pictures at different angles until he's satisfied. He repositions him and takes more photos. He repeats that a few more times. Eddie is so hard it's hurting. He doesn't know what to do about how turned on he is.

***

Once they finished up and Eddie changed into boxers and a tee, Buck left the room to go to bed on the couch.

Eddie slips into bed and removes his boxers. He feels immediate relief when he touches himself. He sighs into his pillow. He remembers that they had taken the photos on his phone. He opens it up and looks at each one while he touches himself. He notices the way he was looking at Buck behind the camera. Come to think of it, Buck looked pretty wrecked in there.

He jerks faster. He's not under any allusions he'll last very long tonight. He continues his pace. Whining quietly into the space of his room. He already feels so close. He teases his tip. He thinks of Buck's strong arms. He wants to be choked by his thighs. He wants and he wants and he craves. He thinks of Buck's hand around his throat and that's what pushes him over the edge, coming all over himself.

He cleans up the mess and changes his shirt that he most definitely got come on. Once he settles back in he starts to try and fall asleep.

***

They wake up and set up his profile, throwing in a few of the best shots from last night and a few Buck had in his phone, mostly candid, and one of him and Christopher.

That's how he meets Eric. Eric, who is nice and cute with dimples and blond hair. He's 35 and incredibly adventurous. Eddie swipes right and Buck cheers him on. He gets the notification that Eric swiped back. They match and he sends Eddie a message.

'Hey cutie 💓'

'You're not so bad yourself'

They keep chatting and Eddie likes him. They talk about Chris and it seems like a good conversation. Productive even. He notices Buck looking every time his phone goes off. He absently wonders if he's jealous, he likes the idea of it. He wants, sometimes, to live in a land where he could convince himself that he is, bask in delusion. Sometimes he just wishes was reality, Buck wanting him too.

*****

The whole day Buck had been playing it over in his head. But Eddie only wants to be with other men. Obviously, they're just best friends, after all. Nothing more. Buck wishes he had the nerve to have kissed Eddie last night. And he's not going to stop regretting that lack of choice. He wants to kiss him, touch him, take him. He's lost in thought when he hears his damn phone go off again. He can't help himself from looking. He knows there's a scowl on his face. Eddie just smirks those sexy lips at him. He wants to kiss the smirk right off him.

"Can you take a good dick pic for me?"

"Of mine?!"

"No, of mine, for Eric."

"Oh," right, him. "Sure, shall we go to the room." He wants to say our room. Wants that to be reality.

"Yeah," he starts walking, Buck happily follows. "Should I get hard privately?"

It's a bad idea but he says it anyway. "No, I think it would help my inspiration to see."

"Oh, okay."

"Is that okay?" He nods. "Dude, I need you to say it."

"Yeah, it's just, thanks for everything."

"Of course."

In his room he strips down to nothing and lies back against his headboard. Buck pulls out his own phone this time. He takes a picture like that and Eddie sighs. He begins to touch himself. Slow and steady up and down strokes. He let's his thumb glide over the slit a little. It pulls a small noise out of him. Buck just watches and takes it in for later. He has this routine, shower and think about all the things he and Eddie could do to each other and come messy and quiet so no one hears him. Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to make love to him. Taking him slowly as they kiss and whisper 'I love you's and praises. Those are the times it's hardest not to cry out his name.

Eddie speeds up his pace and lets out small little 'uh's. Buck can feel himself getting harder in his sweats. He hopes Eddie doesn't see. But a small part of him hopes he does, that he likes what he sees. Eddie is fully hard and he looks amazing, Buck takes in the view, he's flushed bright red in the cheeks and nose, hair hanging in front of his face. Buck takes a few photos. Eddie is lost to his movements, eyes closed, almost like Buck isn't there.

He stops and breathes. His doe eyes, blown black, look up to meet Buck's. He's stepped up to the edge of the bed. He takes another photo. He then climbs up on the bed and sits on Eddie's shins. Eddie's hips rise, he takes a photo.

"Shit up." His voice is low, even he can clock that. Eddie nods. And does what he's told. "On your knees." He listens. "Now, sit back on your heals."

He slowly goes down, his cock bobs at the movement, his eyes flick down to watch it. Once he's positioned, Buck puts his hands on his knees and pushes them out. "Spread them wide." He nods, doe eyes, wide and blown and so beautiful.

He takes a few photos at a few different angles. Capturing the beauty in the dimly lit room. He wants to look at these in the shower and lose himself in his feelings and desire. He shows them to Eddie to get his approval. Eddie only nods, too turned on to speak. He's lost in it and Buck wishes he could follow him down the rabbit hole. He texts him all the pictures. Eddie quickly picks one to send to Eric. He sends it then looks up at Buck.

"You should probably leave the room. I have to deal with." He only looks down.

"Yeah, you, uh, have fun."

"Sure thing."

He exits the room, closing the door behind him. He walks away then paces back and fourth for a moment. Then he stops in front of Eddie's door. He listens closely. Eddie isn't trying to be quiet as he loudly whines on the other side of the door. He moans like he's doing it for someone. A morbid part of him wonders if Eric knows what he's doing. If Eddie is looking at the picture Eric surely sent back.

Eddie continues to make obscene noises and then it happens. He comes and he's loud about it. Shouting 'fuck.' He whines through the aftershock. Buck walks away and gets ready for a shower. Pulling out an outfit and his toothbrush.

He heads into the bathroom right when Eddie's door opens. Eddie smiles at him, he's in boxers. He heads for the kitchen. He shuts the door and locks it. He pulls up the pictures on his phone then undresses. Feeling his body and flexing his muscles. He looks in the mirror and sees just how aroused he looks. He wonders if Eddie could tell.

Once he's under the spray he basks in the heat. He soaks his hair and soaps it up, quickly rinsing it out, then he grabs his conditioner and slathers some on. He likes to let it sit in his hair for a little while. So he starts to jerk his neglected cock. Fast under the spray of the water. He moves fast and hard and desperately. He comes over his hand. Messy. He washes it away in the water. He begins soaping up his body. Then he rinses everything off. He just wants to lie down and take a nap.

[ravenw1ngs]

A little WIP Wednesday, Perhaps?

On the nights he does sleep without bad memories creeping in, Tubbo’s dreams are washed in violet.

He doesn’t remember anything solid from before his time on the island. That is a fact he has come to accept, a truth he has learned to live with. Still, he wonders, and when he wakes up some mornings he recalls glimpses of dreams that feel a little too real to be constructs of his imagination. Sprawling hallways, mazelike in their nature but far enough removed from the stone-walled labyrinth beneath the island’s surface for him to really fear them, each filled with items and minerals that feel both foreign and familiar all at once. Flashes of faces, of voices, of hands that all feel like home. The feeling of flying in the wind, the sun, the rain. And always that familiar shade of purple, creeping into the corners of every hazy image that he can’t quite will into focus.

“I think they’re my memories from before,” Tubbo confesses to Fit one afternoon while they’re working in his factory. This isn’t the first time he’s talked about his dreams with Fit—or Pac or Phil, for that matter—but usually it was something done in passing. Brief mentions, never in any real detail. But he’s come to trust and care about Fit a lot more in recent weeks, and he really needs to talk to someone about what he sees in his sleep, because he’s starting to go crazy thinking about it. Not the dreams themselves, even, but the warmth they bring him, the kind that tells him that they must mean something, that these people and places are significant. “Whatever the Federation did to wipe away everything from my old life—I think it didn’t work all the way, and some part of my brain is still holding on to the important bits.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Fit agrees, holding the length of belt steady so that Tubbo can tighten it around the rollers, making sure it’s nice and taut. It’s a lot easier with an extra set of hands. “So those people you keep seeing, you think some of ‘em are your family or something?”

There are a lot of people in Tubbo’s dreams—mostly a sea of unfamiliar faces, although Phil’s appeared once or twice, basically confirming that they did know each other well enough before. There are a few faces that are more consistent than others, though. Some are younger, around his age, and Tubbo’s pretty sure they were—are?—his friends. A boy with messy blonde hair and a sharp grin that is effortless to return. A girl with glasses and blonde highlights in her brown hair that match his own. They’re never in his dreams of those strange mazes, though; those dreams are always filled with the same dozen people. A few in particular.

“I think so,” Tubbo agrees, recalling the fuzzy memories of hands ruffling his hair and fond nicknames and people throwing themselves between him and danger. He hates that he can’t remember much more than that. He has no names for what little he recalls of their faces, and while he’s pretty certain they loved him a lot, he doesn’t remember what that feels like. It’s kind of devastating. “I wonder if they’re still looking for me after all these months. They probably think I’m dead.”

Fit frowns at that, and Tubbo can feel his watchful gaze follow him as he moves around the building, calculating where the next piece of the machine needs to go in order to keep things running smoothly. He hates wasting space. 

“Listen, coming from someone who’s currently missing their kid,” Fit starts, choosing each word carefully, and there’s something soft and serious about his tone that has Tubbo stopping in his tracks so he can better listen. “They’re not going to stop looking for you until they know for sure you’re dead and gone. It doesn’t matter if you’re stuck here for another couple of months or twenty years—they won’t give up on you until they have proof you’re never coming back.”

(And isn’t that an earthshaking concept: the love a parent can have for their child. Somewhere out there is someone who might be willing to move mountains by hand for him if needed—someone who would believe in him and fight for him until the end of time. He keeps feeling like something dear to him is missing. Maybe it’s this.)

[selcouthbuzz]

when you’re actively in my life, everything else feels paused out of my control.

it’s almost 7am, and all i’ve wanted since monday is to talk to you. but i don’t know what to say. the only things i can think to talk about are our relationship and how you’re doing, which doesn’t seem fulfilling.

you stop my heart and remove all the oxygen from my lungs. my bones shake and my brain gets fuzzy, like tv static.

i miss you. i miss who we were when we first met, i miss having firsts with you. like the washing dc trip. i miss who i was before our relationship changed me.

i’m grateful to have learned the lessons in our relationship though. like understanding i feel loved through acts of service mostly, and recognizing how depression can manifest in different ways. your words “closed mouths don’t get fed,” play in my head on loop, and i think i’m decent at communicating my needs currently.

i think about how silly the space between us is. how either of us could easily drop by if we’d just purchase a ticket.

i need you to know that i feel remorse for the way things were handled last year.

the way i ignored you under the guise of being hurt is not okay. the way i was forced to kick you out, manipulated to seem like it was my idea. the way i didn’t try. that’s the most unfair i think. you deserved kindness and understanding and i gave you avoidance and disrespect. i’m deeply ashamed of my actions.

in my defense, my mother was manipulating me. and i fell for it. which isn’t anything new but i thought i had got out of her limerence and i trusted her. i’m sorry that i’m naive. i’m smarting up more everyday. she doesn’t have any true hold on me and she hasn’t since october at the least. if you see signs of it happening again, for the love of god, please tell me.

i know you’re aware i’m moving to tucson, and i know that probably brings on strong emotions for you. look at this way for me?

i grew up there, spent my first 13yrs of life there. the only family that gives any sort of fuck about me, lives there. and also my best friend lives there. not only do i know the area so well that i don’t need to drive, but i have a support system there that i don’t have anywhere else. not only that, but i prefer warmer weather anyways. also, it’s the last place my dad walked the earth. once i get down there i’m going to lay with him for an extremely long and embarrassing amount of time.

the offer still stands btw, when i have my own place you’re more than welcome.

i can’t make you my sole support system, i’ve done it in the past and not only did it create resentment, but it puts too much pressure on one person. you can’t be the only person in my life ever, and i don’t want you to be. you taught me about community when you let me move into the coop with you. and now i’ve had a taste, i want to be surrounded by people that care about and love me. i’m secretly hoping you’re apart of that.

i know the last message i sent you on snapchat was rough, as many of my big paragraphs are. i said something’s about not wanting to be with you in any way, and while that has some truth to it, it’s not all honest.

i don’t know how we build up from here. it’s almost been a full year i’ve been single and it’s taught me that i do really like my own space and that i can pick myself up, i’m reliable to myself. it’s also taught me that distance really doesn’t matter in a breakup, or at all really, because every. single. day. i think about you, whether it’s healing based or just hoping you ate something good.

it’s not that i don’t want you as a partner, because i so much do. it’s that our communication has always been spotty and sometimes i convince myself that we both deserve better. and that it’s hard to build trust when it’s been broken so many times. although, i know you’d risk your life for me depending on circumstances and you know i always reply eventually. in raw realness, i don’t think i took our relationship seriously because i was convinced since 7yrs old that id be dead before i’d ever turn 22. but i’m here, and i plan on staying alive for the most part. and also, i’m scared of the loss of you, which explains why i end up leaving before you can, and it isn’t fair of me to jump to conclusions like that as if you’ve ever told me you wanted to break up. because you haven’t. because every man in my life has proven me right except you, my sweets. you prove me wrong every single day and as humbling as it is, it’s also embarrassing. and embarrassment is a shitty emotion to feel in my opinion.

these are the facts:

i’m sorry. being mentally unstable is hard as you know, and i know it’s worse being the one who catches it all. i’m truly remorseful for causing you emotional whiplash.

i miss you. not just who we were when we met, but the versions of you i have yet to meet. not just your warmth, but the glow you bring with you that lights up rooms. not just your hands, which carry me and the world. not just your voice, but the passion you find deep inside you. i miss you to your core.

and.

i love you. the love has never gone away. no matter how many times i wish it would so we could stop hurting each other. no matter the distances created between us. no matter the harsh words we say in heated moments. not your substance abuse, not mine.

nothing can or will take this love from me. regardless of where we stand, i love you deeply in my soul.

this isn’t me begging or crawling back to you, although it sort of feels that way.

[syntia13treeman]

Case files 07.01

what I think happened in:

Case 07.01, the case of "Hilltop Hell 2.0" or "Charity Chill Shop of Horrors"

Things that are as clear as they can be: In A.D. 2012 Dianne Margolis started working as volunteer at Hilltop Centre branch of the Oxford People’s Trust (charity shop, I assume?). After the Centre's manager, Mr. Derek Chambers, died in 2015, one Mr. C. Clayton appointed Dianne a new manager and promptly left her to her own devices.

Left on her own, Dianne tried to find new volunteers to work in the Centre, and had bad luck of finding one. A young man of uncertain name, unknown origin and underwhelming qualifications showed up, claiming to know the Hilltop Centre better than anyone. For lack of better option, Dianne hired him. (Is it 'hiring', if it's volunteering? I don't know how this works).

At this point (mid November 2015) Dianne received what would be her last message from her direct supervisor, Mr. Clayton, before he apparently departed for a fully paid “personal development sabbatical” in the Seychelles.* The message read: "Chill, it's all good". :)

Volunteer Nr 1 brought to the table: positive attitude, good work ethics, complete lack of skills and a disturbing looking flower pot as a donation for the shop – you know, for a good cause! :)

He also brought a friend, Volunteer Nr 2.

Volunteer Nr 2 brought to the table: everything Nr 1 did, with a bearskin rug instead of a pot, and two (2!) new Volunteers.

Nr 3 and Nr 4 brought enthusiasm, cheer, and some unusual 'donations' of their own. And did I mention four (4!) new Volunteers? With four new uncanny object to donate, all for a good cause? Well, now I did.

This was getting out of hand! Now there were 8 of them!

And they would not heed any instruction Dianne issued, such as:

remove your creepy 'gifts' from the shop,

do NOT accept any additional questionable donations from unknown sources,

stop laughing at all hours,

stop repeating “It's all for a good cause!” like a mantra,

do not open the shop on your own, how did you even get the keys?

and for the love of god please stop multiplying!

The last one in particular was rejected with prejudice. While earlier influx of Volunteers was spaced out a bit, now it seemed that they started doubling in number every hour/minute/second, and very quickly poor Dianne found herself effectively buried under pressure of unnumbered Volunteers and Foreboding Items. Just when our unfortunate protagonist started choking on spilled pennies and all hope seemed lost, the gunshots started.

Hurray, the cavalry arrived!

Volunteers continued to laugh and assure the world of their good intentions while getting shot and set on fire, but they shifted just enough for Dianne to make her escape.

After escaping the building she was held at gunpoint by one of the assailants, whilst she proved her humanity by having a well deserved nervous breakdown.

Then the gun-wielding heavyset Man in Black carried her away from the blazing building, tossed casually over his shoulder. She'd been kept and interrogated briefed for the next two months.

After being released she sent her resignation note, in which she wished all the worst on Mr. C. Clayton, and curtly cut all contact with Oxford People’s Trust.

All interested parties were instructed to treat the fire at the Hilltop Centre as a simple accident and not to mention involvement of [redacted]** security force.

Some less clear points of interest:

* I do not, for one second, believe that Mr. C.Clayton is spending some personal time in the Seychelles, sending very unprofessional letters to his employees. I do believe he's currently unable to access his email and phone, on account of being quite dead. It's too convenient that he just randomly buggered off right when a newly-appointed, not-quite-qualified-for-the-job head of department is about to be besieged by the spookies(TM) (as TMA listener, I'm getting some minor flashbacks here). If one were inclined to be optimistic, one could argue that Mr. Clayton might have been paid off, with instruction to make himself scarce for half a year, but why go to the trouble when you can just disappear him and use his email to send some chill messages to his co-workers? (impostor message count in the podcast so far: 3).

** I'm quite certain that the mysterious Men In Black that may not be named are Starkwall security service, of the “The San Pedro Square Massacre” fame. Which makes me think that said 'massacre' also involved an event similar to this one, just with more witnesses who didn't understand what they were looking at. I think it was mentioned in ARG that they used to work with OIAR, but that stopped around the time Magnus Institute burned down. I'm gonna to tentatively connect the dots and say that Starkwall is dedicated to containing large-scale supernatural outbreaks and has very strict burn-it-to-the ground policy. (Spooky outbreak at Magnus Institute seems like a safe bet). I think OIAR used to supply them with data about potential paranormal events, but is not doing it any more, or is not doing it officially. I'm gonna wait for more data before speculating further on this.

So let's address the elephants in the showroom. Who were the volunteers? They were not human, even if they did passable job of imitating them. They had no names that could be remembered, or paper-trail that could be found, they had access to excessive number of cursed objects (cursed in figurative and probably literal sense), they loved to laugh a lot and had some curious relationship with math. (something something, twice the number of volunteers at half the intervals, something something geometric progression something something.) I know what TMA wants me to think, but this is OIAR, damn it. I'm gonna play with concept of changelings, malicious spirits and magic constructs until definitively proven wrong. No solid theory for now, just… rotating the pieces in my brain, hoping they'll click.

What was the point of this event? We have a great number of (presumably) magical creatures gaining access to a place they claim to be very familiar with (which place might or might not be significant for reasons). We have them filling it to the brim with (presumably) magical items. We have them acting very enthusiastic and happy, like they were celebrating something. What was it all for? I'm gonna posit that the end goal was to cram so much 'magic' in one place that it would reach critical mass and set of… some kind of reaction. Maybe to create something. Or maybe to let something through. Maybe warp reality in some way. Maybe tear a hole in the fabric of it. Or widen a pre-existing hole. Either way it would almost certainly be Not Good for the world and we should be glad that MiB was on the scene to prevent it. Almost certainly. (:

[thevibraniumveterans]

REBELS REWATCH

S1E9 — GATHERING FORCES

The episode is a continuation of S1E8 “Empire Day”. It opens with a dogfight, because of course it does. Hera commands Sabine to man the nose guns, as Sabine herself had stated earlier. However, she hesitates, not knowing whether to deal with Tseebo’s revelation or to be in the weapons bay as required. She is conflicted between needing to help fire upon the enemy and wanting to be a grounding presence for Ezra. Needlessly, he asks, “Didn’t you hear Hera?” He knows his needs are not important right this very moment, choosing instead to tell Sabine to prioritize the battle in the skies over his own feelings. Sabine however, asks in return, “Didn’t you hear Tseebo? He said he knows what happened to your parents.” Ezra doesn’t need further comfort, or at least so he thinks. He tells Sabine, “I already know what happened. They’re dead. So go!” Sabine lingers for a few seconds more, still feeling torn. A blast rocks the ship, so she turns and heads to the nose guns as ordered. Ezra watches her walk away, and turns to Tseebo. Shaking him by the shoulders, he demands, “Are they? Are my parents dead?” Tseebo warns, “The Bridgers should hide. The troopers came. They took Mira and Ephraim Bridger away.” Desperate for information, Ezra’s voice grows louder, “Where? Where did they take them?” Tseebo says, “Forgive Tseebo. Forgive him.” Incredulous, Ezra says, “Forgive you?!” Tseebo says, “Tseebo failed.” Ezra shakes his head in disbelief. His friend says, “Tseebo was afraid. Tseebo could not raise Ezra Bridger.” Betrayed and devastated, Ezra shouts, “Coward! You could have stopped them! Why didn’t you stop them?” Hera calls through the comms, “Shields down! Ezra, I need you in the cockpit!” The teenager acknowledges the order, but turns back to Tseebo, voice full of hurt and betrayal. “Forgive you? My parents trusted you and you failed them and you failed me. I’ll never forgive you for that.”

Ezra makes his way to the cockpit and helps Hera with some rewiring.

Tseebo helps to calculate the jump to light speed, which brings the Ghost safely out of harm’s way. Hera thanks Tseebo for it. “I think you saved our lives,” says Hera. Ezra, however still hurt from the revelation earlier, brushes past, dismissively stating, “Yeah, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

The crew gather in the Ghost’s common space, and Sabine and Hera attempt to bring Chopper back online. Ezra, however, sits sulking at the holochess table. Sabine looks up at Ezra, a quizzical look on her face. He sits idle, lost in his own thoughts, his emotions swirling in an angry current.

Ezra looks up at Kanan and asks, “So? Now what do we do with him?” Kanan tells him that he should be the one who can offer up ideas, given his history with Tseebo. Ezra, wanting to avoid talking about his hurt feelings, picks up one of his stolen (and painted) helmets, puts it on, and says, “Don’t know. Don’t much care.” Kanan offers advice to Ezra, saying that he’ll “never advance as a Jedi if you can’t be honest with yourself, at least.” (This statement is interesting given how years into the future, Sabine would become a Jedi under Asoka’s tutelage, but that she fully opened herself to the Force because she was honest with herself (perhaps about why she was faltering in her initial training), honest about her feelings (regarding Ezra, her long-lost significant other), willing to admit to herself what kinds of feelings she had been bottling up for way too long (e.g., her parents’ eventual demise, not being able to move past her grief of losing her family and also Ezra, not to mention the closeness of the Spectres, among other things). By finally opening up snd being honest to herself about so many things, she opened herself to the Force and it flowed through her like water our of a broken dam.) Frustrated, Ezra asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?” He stands up, ready to walk off. Kanan grabs Ezra’s helmet, removing it from the teenager’s head, and says, “It means Tseebo matters to you.” Ezra turns around. Kanan continues, “You do care what happens to him.” Ezra, still hurt from earlier and refusing to acknowledge his pain, responds with, “Why should I? He did nothing to save my parents.” Kanan notes that it would have been impossible for one individual with as Tseebo to have done anything against “the entire Empire.” Sabine contributes her thoughts: “And besides, look at what he’s done since. The Imperials encourage these implants but they’re not mandatory.” (That’s something Sabine would actually know, given her past history as an Imperial cadet at the Academy.) She continues, “Not yet. He must have volunteered.” Ezra isn’t convinced, and crossed his arms. Sabine notes, “And then he uploaded their secrets and ran. Maybe he’s trying to make up for letting you down. Why else would he take on the Empire alone?” A few mutterings by Tseebo later, Sabine translates, “he said the Empire can track the Ghost.”

Chopper scans the Ghost, finds the tracker attached to it, and shows the Spectres where it is. Sabine realizes that the Ghost is indeed being followed. Hera notes that the tracker is on the Phantom, and makes plans to drop the Phantom. Sabine disagrees, so Kanan suggests passing by an asteroid field close to a base where Sabien and Hera were last episode. At the mere mention, Sabine says, “You mean the base with the nasties who live in the shadows?” Clearly remembering her ordeal there, she does not want to revisit that place. Ezra, standing by a doorway, agrees with the sentiment: “Wait, what? Why would we want to go down there?” (Fair enough, he was accosted by a fyrnock on that base. 10/10 do not recommend.)

Kanan says it’s not just the tracker they should be worried about, as they are being pursued by an Inquisitor. “As long as Ezra and I are on board the Ghost, we’re jeopardizing Tseebo’s escape.”

Ezra does not like this suggestion: “So, I gotta leave the Ghost and go to this nasty-filled asteroid as a favor to Tseebo?” Kanan sys, “As a favor to all of us. And don’t worry. I’ll be right beside you.” Defeated, Ezra sighs,

Cut to perhaps several minutes later, and Ezra is standing by the galley, across the room from Tseebo. He is still upset. The door swooshes open, and Sabine walks in. Carefully choosing her words, Sabine asks, “So, your parents…do you really believe they’re dead?” Ezra looks away from Sabine, and curtly replies, “Yes.” It’s not a subject he likes to bring up, but the day has not gone well for him in the slightest. He is still unsure of what he is, or should be, feeling, if he’s being honest. He continues, “No. I-I don’t know. Does it matter?” Sabine offers a rebuttal. “Yeah, of course it matters. You have to talk to Tseebo before we go.” Ezra tells her that’s he’s tried to do so. Sabine doesn’t take no for an answer: “Okay, so try harder! Once Hera takes him away, you may never see Tseebo again.” Ezra begins to walk away, and comments offhandedly, “Maybe that’s for the best.” Sabine is taken aback, clearly not expecting this response. “Wha—How can you say that?” Ezra is exasperated, but understanding that Sabine should never be on the receiving end of his frustration, sighs and takes a moment to calm down. He says. “Sabine. I’ve been on my own since I was seven, okay? If I’d let myself believe my folks were alive—” Sabine watches him, concern written on her face. “—if I let myself believe they’d come back and save me, I’d never have learned how to survive.” The door opens behind him, startling Ezra a bit. Kanan asks if he’s ready for the task at hand. Ezra turns back around and looks at Sabine, who gestures with her head to go on this mission. He takes her unspoken advice, knowing that any further explanation and delay would only result in a postponed reckoning with his own guilt. Ezra follows Kanan away. Sabine looks up at Tseebo, then down to the empty space around her. She feels sorry for Ezra, she thinks. He was so young, too young to have ended up on the streets as nothing more than a mere child, whereas at that same age, she was trying to make her family proud of her. At that age, she had a family, but he had lost his.

Ezra and Kanan make their way to the Phantom, and detach it from the Ghost. They drop out of hyperspace and make their way to the asteroid base, an Imperial Star Destroyer hot o their trail.

Ezra and Kanan are close to touchdown on the asteroid. The teenager, expecting there to be a plan of action, asks, “Should we go over the plan again?” Kanan notes, “I never told you what the plan was.” Ezra says, “Exactly.” Kanan asks, “You remember the nasty creatures Hera and Sabine found here?” Ezra does, but he’d rather forget those creatures. Kanan tells him that he has to connect with those animals (as he’d originally started the day off trying to do) “if we’re gonna survive this.” Worried, Ezra asks, “Is now really the best time for a lesson?” Kanan doesn’t think so, but tells him, “I figure it’s learning like you do best, by surviving.”

Kanan prepares for touchdown. Ezra admits that he doesn’t think he can make those connections. “I’m afraid,” he finally says. Kanan tells him, “I got news for you, kid. Everyone’s afraid, but admitting it as you just did, makes you braver than most and it’s a step forward.” Ezra notes, “Yeah. Into the jaws of a nightmare.” Whether he is referring to the animals he would soon face, or his own internal worries, that’s something only Ezra would find out for himself.

Kanan parks the Phantom in the cave, and heads off to remove the tracking device. He leads Ezra to complete his task. Ezra looks around, nervous.

Hesitant, Ezra steps forward. The place is crawling with fyrnocks, Kanan dislodges the tracking device. The creatures advance on Ezra, who shields his face with his arms. Kanan tells him, “You’re blocked! Let go.” (“Blocked” would be the exact same word that Kanan would use to describe Sabine several years later when during her training with the Darksaber. In that future time period, Sabine is also similarly emotionally blocked, and unwilling to acknowledge extremely deep-seated and long-buried feelings and emotions that she keeps to herself, that she does not allow herself to admit. And it isn’t until a decade after then, that Sabine consciously UNBLOCKS herself from the Force and let it flow through her, the process inadvertently helped by Ezra himself, that Sabine admitted to herself the feelings and emotions she had been harboring for YEARS. Once she allowed herself to experience the truth, to finally say to herself, “This is what I’ve been feeling, this is why I’m feeling them, and I’m not afraid of facing my own truth”.) Ezra says, “I can’t!” Kanan advises, “Don’t be afraid.” As in, to not be afraid of the creatures and to not be afraid to face his own feelings and emotions. Ezra stretches out his hands, and tries to convince himself: “I’m not afraid of them!” Kanan presses on: “Then what?” Ezra doesn’t know, and says so. Kanan disagrees: “What are you afraid of?!” Ezra finally realizes, “I’m afraid of… I’m afraid of knowing. I’m afraid of the truth! I’m sorry!” Ezra is near tears. “I’m sorry. I’m forgive you, Tseebo!” The moment passes, and Ezra falls silent. Kanan watches on as the fyrnocks sit silent before the teenager.

Elsewhere, the Ghost docks with Tantive IV. Sabine asks Hera, “I don’t suppose Zeb and I could get to meet Fulcrum this time?” Hera says, “Nope. This tie, you stay in the cockpit.” Sabine turns around, grasping the disk she swiped on her way out of Ezra’s old home earlier in the day. Her expression turns thoughtful. Elsewhere on the ship, Hera speaks with Tseebo, who has regained his senses and reveals that he knows what happened to Ezra’s parents.

Troopers and the Inquisitor arrive on the asteroid moon where Ezra and Kanan are on. Having connected with the fyrnocks through the Force, Ezra and Kanan are quiet and calm, and commands the creatures to charge. They do so, but are quickly subdued by the troopers and the Inquisitor himself. While Ezra remains knelt on the ground, arm outstretched, Kanan engages the Inquisitor in a duel. Ezra remains calm, collected, and connected, and the fyrnocks comply with his unspoken commands. It isn’t until the Inquisitor knocks Kanan unconscious that Ezra breaks his connection. Ezra grabs Kanan’s saber and points it at the Inquisitor, but it doesn’t do much good. Ezra himself is Force-pushed backwards, and dangles off a ledge. Upset but determined to not let that hinder him, he tells the Inquisitor, “You don’t have anything to teach me.” The Inquisitor taunts him further, and Ezra, becoming increasingly agitated, ends up summoning the fyrnock Alpha by connecting directly to it. Kanan wakes up from his unconscious state, and looks up at Ezra. The teenager is trembling with controlled but barely contained fury, and calls upon the Force like never before, with strength gathered from the deepest recesses of his being. His face, contorted into a deep grimace, sets in grim determination as the Alpha rises behind him. Kanan realizes what’s going on: “Ezra? ..No!” The teenager in question has connected so deeply with the Alpha, much more than he was previously able to with a cat on Lothal. Even the Inquisitor is taken aback and starts retreating. Ezra, however, has his mind dead set on one single task, his fear of the truth no longer present: command the Alpha to charge at the Inquisitor. Ezra is struggling to hold the connection with the Alpha, who screeches and charges forward. Ezra, however, is overwhelmed by the immense and nearly inhuman effort to maintain a connection with the Alpha. He loses his connection, sways, and collapses to the ground, falling unconscious.

Taking advantage of the Alpha’s presence, Kanan grabs his blaster and heads in Ezra’s direction. Upon reaching the teenager, Kanan tries to wake Ezra from his unconscious state. Ezra opens his eyes, and confused, asks, “What happened? I-I feel so cold.” Kanan reassures Ezra that he’s aware of this, and says, “It’s okay. We’re leaving.” Hoisting the weakened teengager onto his shoulder, Kanan takes advantage of the fyrnocks holding back the Inquisitor and the troopers, grabs his saber, and reaches the Phantom. Once inside, he places Ezra in a jump seat, heads to the pilot’s chair, and takes off, blasting an Imperial ship in the process.

Once they’re safe, Kanan puts the Phantom in autopilot and turns around, noticing Ezra curled up into himself, shaking in the cold. Ezra looks up, and hesitantly asks, “…I saved us?” Kanan tells him, “You did.” Ezra admits, “But something doesn’t feel right.” Perhaps this might be part of a lesson learnt earlier, where Ezra gives voice to his concerns so that he can address them right away instead of postponing facing the problem at hand. Kanan says, “If your will isn’t strong enough when you open yourself to the Force, you become vulnerable to the dark side.” Ezra counters with what he knows, “Well, I was trying to protect you.” Kanan replies, “I know. But your anger and fear caused that giant creature to attack.” Ezra says he does not remember the incident, so Kanan tells him, “That’s for the best.” He pauses, then continues, “Your powers are growing so quickly, you weren’t prepared. I didn’t teach you what you needed to know. I’m sorry.”

The Phantom docks with the Ghost, and the Spectres welcome Kanan and Ezra back. Ezra makes his way down the ladder. Still hunched over himself, he slowly makes his way across the common room, but Hera wishes to tell him something. Thinking better of it, Kanan interrupts, saying, “Ezra needs a little time to himself right now.” The teenager in question continues on through the Ghost, footsteps heavy. He makes his way to the gunner’s chair. Crossing his arms, he stares out the window, looking at the many stars beyond, lost in thought. Sabine decides to try to cheer him up. Walking into the gunner’s bay behind Ezra, she states, “Rough couple of days.” Ezra agrees, telling her, “Yeah. It’s been strange.” He doesn’t elaborate nor does he look at her, so Sabine crosses over to the other side of the chair. “I have just what you need,” she tells him, taking out the disk she was holding earlier. “It’s the holo-disk from your old house.” He watches her in silence as she continues, “It was pretty degraded but I cleaned it up. And I found something.” Sabine inserts it into a reader by a side panel, and the gunner’s bay lights up in a fluorescent orange glow, its source a holo-image of the Bridger family — Ephraim and Mira, and baby Ezra. The teenager’s eyes widen in surprise upon seeing the image, calling out to his parents as if they were still there. By his side, Sabine chuckles a bit, then: “Happy birthday, Ezra Bridger.” A gentle smile on her face, she leaves the gunner’s bay. It’s not specifically the disk that’s the present, Sabine’s gift to Ezra was a happy memory on his birthday (Empire Day, lest we forget), the first happy and positive memory he’s had of his parents in years. Ezra’s eyes follow her departure, but the image of his much younger self with his happy parents commands his attention. He blinks a few times and takes a deep breath, as this is the first time in years he’s had a happy memory for his birthday. He raises his hand, as if to reach out to the image.

[who-is-shades]

raz dnd 25

last time uhhh bye teya :(

awkward silence as they walk. android is just steaming in rage. kay is listening in since teya is gone lol.

walking for hours and we hear something stommping? here comes a giant metal beast made of random bot parts and peoples bodies strapped to it? already dead lol.

parsley and wheatley are so fucking tired lol here we go again. roll initiative!

android is pissed and just starts shooting at it. parsley hurls his axe at its head and hurls the other one then uses rage. wheatley uses heat metal. the creature attacks! it opens its mouth and fires out gas! senna is paralyzed! it attacks zen! but zen dodges nice. zen attacks! good job and he paralyzes it! senna unparalyzes herself nice but that uses her turn fuck.

android just keeps shooting. parsley yeets his javelin then misses his sword stab. wheatley uses branding smite on his gun nice. the beast is paralyzed lol. zen punches it nice. senna uses witchbolt nice. the beast falls apart!

parsley goes to collect his weapons. senna starts removing the organics bodies and parsley begins pulling it apart. it looks welded together. old circuits and one of those soul jars in it. parsley manages to take it out! wheatley gives him a thunbs up. senna tells him to break it. 'on it boss.' he flies up and yeets it at the ground. good job.

senna finishes removing the bodies. she inquires their souls were used in that power jar, and hes trying to control organics the same way he controls robots. (cave johnson is william afton) zen sighs and says its camp time, cause were all just tired. long rest!

we continue! nothing happens, more awkward hours. wheatley holds sennas hand this time. parsley carries SP. we come to a clearing in the woods. theres an abandoned building, looks like one from the time bubble but its ancient. an old outpost? wheatley drags senna with him toward it. he thinks its a mimic hes so sick of it lol.

its covered in foliage. its mostly empty with some panels. racks on the walls with robot bits, super rusty. wheatley ponders how he missed these things for 800 years. wheatley taps on the consoles but nothing happens. android finds a more intact screen and taps away and it flickers.

senna opens a door and inside is a stock of weapons. old, rusty, and broken. she goes to open the other door. a big metal table with a big old map with specific points on it. she picks up their current spot on the map. outpost map nice. she calls out and tells them.

zen comes in to check the map. he compares it to his projection. most are out of the way but 2 of them are on the path their taking. they'll talk about it at camp, since those might be too dangerous. he puts the pins on his map.

androids tablet turns on and displays files! theres an introduction file. goddamn cave johnson aperture sound lol. they can hear zorbolts voice. parsley walks in to hear this. senna comes in cause she hears parsley. zorbolt explaining the outpost, prepping for invasion. sleeping quarters down below for handlers. then its over.

wheatley asks if theres more files. theres a crackle of blue energy! theres a big flash of light! its spingledorf jingles crust. teya sent him? oh he brought teya!? shes dressed like a witch. spingledorf gave it to her and a magical broom lol. space core makes happy beeping noises and wheels over. wheatley looks distrustful. 'you chose to forget us. to leave them behind.'

android starts trudging over very pissed. she didnt wanna forget us. he punches her in the stomach ouch. 'yep deserved that one.' he walks away. zen gives her a big hug awww. 'am i allowed to just join back up?' wheatley says she chose to leave us behind. 'i couldnt do it.'

parsley asks if she got it out of her system. 'fuck you.' 'yep, there she is.' 'damn make up your damn mind.' 'want me to leave again?' 'that would be kinda funny.' sunnie convinced her to return? wheatley brightens up at that lol. sunnie read her journal xD wheatley says its gonna be a long time before he can trust her again. shes hopeful though.

senna slowly walks over and asks zen to put teya down. she just stares at her for a while. she slowly takes teyas hands and kisses her forehead. 'welcome back teya.' senna is holding back her tears a bit. (is she not mad? hmm) 'hey parsley. missed you.' 'fuck off!'

zen glows yellow again. he was just about to send bots to her lol. shes got lots of people to protect now. hes pissed, so many lives are in danger when she left. she just didnt see herself at able too. but he chose her. shes not alone. he says if she decides to jump again he will take her memory immediately. teya wants everyone to agree to let her in. android grumbles but allows it lol. wheatley says teya's negative talk is what made her leave the first time.

zen is back to normal and he hugs teya again lol. wheatley walks over and looks at her complicated. 'please dont leave me behind.' then he hugs her awww. then he tells her about the videos. gotta find the bunker. android slams on the floor and opens a hatch. now they wanna know wtf a video is lol android vaguely explains it. he gives up lol. wheatley explains it better.

wheatley wants to plug into the fucking tablets and project his memories oh no. senna talks him out but now hes trying to project with his eye. he finds one from when he woke up. waking up in a field of wheat.

back to the tablet video files. 1 more file, the others are corrupted. Plan of attack oh no. its asking for a password. android cant get in darn. parsley shoves wheatley over and asks him to try. he wouldnt know he was cannon fodder xD android gets it though lol. it was his name.

a map projection. army formations. outposts attacking certain kingdoms and projections of the areas. one with a giant wheat field in the background. its the closest to Novis. capture people or kill them if they fight back. bring back damaged bots for repair. wheatley is disgusted what he was made for. but he did fight wars after waking up.

senna goes down the hatch. parsley and wheatley follow. theres skeletons. parsley lights his torch. teya wants to put the skeletons in the token lol. dorf finally speaks up lol. no one cares teya wants the bones lol. wheatley asks if she can speak with dead but she cant.

teya stores 7 skeletons in her token nice. wheatley wont give her back the sending stone though. he squints and slowly hands it back when she says shes not going anywhere. teya suddenly gets launched at the ceiling lol. dorf says the broom is temperamental. then wheatley says he doesnt like spingledorf DX

parsley keeps lying that he missed teya and gets hurt lol. time to leave. wheatley is upset he isnt sp's favorite, its teya lol. senna thanks dorf for bringing teya back. time to go! 'may the wind be at your back spingledorf.' he disappears. wheatley fucking says he hopes he never comes back the bastard. parsley says senna has bad taste cause she likes dorf and is dating teya lol she hits him.

back in the woods! senna tells teya about the beast robot and the god juice stuff lol. zen says robotgod used the wards to understand the evil stuff and made better wards for them nice. as we walk teya gets pulled into the ground lol that broom is a dick. senna tries to lift her and the broom shoves teya right into her. senna is gonna try carrying her lol. the broom is tugging her backwards lol. teya threatens to put the broom in the token lol. gonna keep carrying her.

SP is doing donuts around them shouting about the broom lol. after hours we find a big plain. we see a giant structure in the distance. old crumbling walls its huge. a small kingdom? the road we follow doesnt go there but there is an old path that does. zen says we can go yay!

the grass is long. parsley and sp are too short lol. wheatley sees something in the grass. its an old rusted bot missing parts! wheatley covers sp's cameras. he asks parsley to take SP. senna asks if hes ok. he shoots a bolt directly into its head making sure the processor is destroyed. he wont let them get back up. zen says it wasnt necessary, its gone.

zen pulls out a scanner. its the battlefield. wheatley looks ill. the drone finds something! one of the bots isnt as damaged. time to go find it. parsley is still on babysitting duty. wheatley is pulling out some rope. we find a rusted but good condition bot. senna offers to tie it up for wheatley. gotta be careful and all that. we yank it from the ground cause its stuck. tie it up nice.

the switch is already on. oh. he turns it off and on. nothing happens. god shows up to help! its still affected when god turned them off. wheatley has us move out of the way. (rick portal lol) wheatley is checking him out. he asks about the war. wheatley asks android for help. android feels uh complicated. he does explain tho.

he can feel things! his mind is free! yay! no more control! but his purpose is gone. wheatley tells him he can pick his own. and god can help him if he wants. hes got nothing else going on so wheatley unties and helps him up. very rusty. wheatley hugs him lol. they talk about their handlers. rick asks wheatley his designation. its just wheatley now.

meanwhile senna and teya talk about war. and teya pisses off parsley about treating kids like pets lol now senna is trying to message him.

rick says he wouldve been on the frontline if he hadnt been shut off. wheatley wishes him the best. he introduces us to him nice. protecting us is his purpose ;-; rick can make his own choices! he introduces himself to us. senna shakes his hand. he registers her in his database lol. teya also greets him. a milipede falls off him and lands on teya lol. wheatley takes it off.

parsley tries to find us lol. wheatley pings him. rick has an alarm he thinks parsley is attacking and tries to tackle down but just falls over. wheatley introduces parsley lol. senna and wheatley pick him back up. Parsley hands SP back to wheatley and rick registers that fairies can fly. he gets to meet sp nice. robotgod grabs him and clears up the rust. he registers him as my lord lol.

rick is accessing old files. he knows god cool. he can access files easily, they are mostly undamaged. rick says wheatley can have files imported. androidis in his files ooo. wheatley corrects rick on the name. rick says it may be best to delete the corrupted files but says he can do what he wants.

[darkmaga-returns]

6/3 ASTROLABE LINKS:

(23) Eric Daugherty on X: "Happy pride month! 🇺🇸 https://t.co/Kx1fM4I3hh" / X

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(13) Breaking911 on X: "WATCH: Someone shouts “Fuck the Jews” during Dave Portnoy’s pizza review in Canada https://t.co/k4lkocpwVu" / X

(17) Grace Chong, MBI on X: "Tim Dillon: “This segment on the Ms. Rachel show is incredibly controversial. We wanted to show it to you because it is deeply sick and the song will disturb a lot of people. We have to play it, even though it is Hamas propaganda. This is what is going on right now on children’s https://t.co/UYG0JDsFIw" / X

(21) Douglass Mackey on X: "Stunning report in Israeli media suggests President Trump is taking control of the US-Israel relationship and removing foreign influence from his administration in general. Israeli sources are said to fear the influence of Trump Jr., Tucker Carlson, and JD Vance. Under" / X

(21) Celine Atallah, Esq. on X: "It was clear from day one that President Trump never truly trusted Morgan Ortagus. In his own words, she “fought him for three years,” and he only appointed her due to pressure from “strong Republican support” i.e. the pro-Israel lobby. This was never about trust or merit, it was https://t.co/d0kwLxJ2Oo" / X

(21) Dr. StormyWaters on X: "Another hyphenated American “Hey this guy you hired didn’t show enough reverence about this thing that happened in my “ethnic homeland” 10k miles away in the desert, so I want you to fire him immediately”" / X

(21) Chase Spears on X: "A Defense Department official says on record that ordering the Navy to take a perverted activist's name off of an American warship is intentionally timed for June. (chef's kiss) This is the high watermark era for being a military communicator. https://t.co/lS1FmRSn8o https://t.co/feE6zxMzwV" / X

Navy set to rename USNS Harvey Milk, mulls new names for other ships named for civil rights leaders - CBS News

New Federal Employees Must Now Write Essays Praising Trump's Policies - Newsweek

(21) Rapid Response 47 on X: "https://t.co/gVKETQ0ean" / X

(22) Office of Management and Budget on X: "Director @russvought on rescissions: If Congress passes this, we’ll send up many more. https://t.co/pJp3lrCrid" / X

(21) Office of Management and Budget on X: "NEW: Today, we sent the first rescissions package to Capitol Hill. This package contains BILLIONS in wasteful foreign aid and federal funding for NPR and PBS. Here’s just some of the waste, fraud, and abuse identified: 🧵" / X

(21) Elon Musk on X: "It will massively increase the already gigantic budget deficit to $2.5 trillion (!!!) and burden America citizens with crushingly unsustainable debt" / X

(21) Stephen Miller on X: "The BBB will increase by orders of magnitude the scope, scale and speed of removing illegal and criminal aliens from the United States. For that reason alone, it’s the most essential piece of legislation currently under consideration in the entire Western World, in generations." / X

(21) Eric Daugherty on X: "🚨 JUST IN: Senate Finance Republicans will meet with President Trump TOMORROW on the Big Beautiful Bill - Punchbowl Time to get it done." / X

(6) We need a new rightwing party based around histrionic middle aged social media addicts proposing that we let liberals win whenever setbacks are encountered, real or imagined

(21) hoe_math on X: "The space between [reality] and [how language creates beliefs about reality] is enormous, and it's where the war for your soul is taking place. People who understand the difference between language and reality are the officers and the generals. People who DO NOT understand the https://t.co/s3JUHHKHhL" / X

(22) hoe_math on X: "Confused about who I am and what I do? Never bothered to click my profile? Fine. I'll bring it to you. https://t.co/UAPISa4NC9" / X

(23) hoe_math on X: "It looks like this post of mine got popular. No, I did not tweet it by accident. I am sitting right here and reading what I write before I hit "post." The replies to it are landing in 3 main camps: 1. "What a loser!" These people are retarded psychopaths. They are using the https://t.co/76YZJLtBX5" / X

(23) Wei Wu 吴伟 on X: "@ItIsHoeMath Nigga @ItIsHoeMath . Hear my message. You know why West slow be more like garbage? Reason be people like you not creation more childs. I’m not care what your excuse be, you go create more child. Even if you must suffer most profound, go creation more childs. This your holy" / X

(23) Wei Wu 吴伟 on X: "Dear @ItIsHoeMath . You possession much fan and follower. Reason so simple. You understand reality, brain not effect from pervert and sIut value. People watch you, read your work, follow you, all because you deliver truth. You a hero for much people. You now have no choice. You https://t.co/sVrzx4JSGj" / X

(23) Cernovich on X: "Life feels heavy because it is, and it’s supposed to. Something I wish someone older had said to me, as it would have saved me much angst, was that everyone feels the weight of existence and it’s often crushing. I know billionaires (real ones) who barely tolerate life. Beautiful" / X

(23) Jubilee on X: ""Suffering makes God's existence unlikely" @CosmicSkeptic takes on 25 Christians in #Surrounded https://t.co/L5Nig8Tevh" / X

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

have you ever had to deal with an incompetent dentist who just made your teeth worse? A few years ago the clinic I went to hired a new dentist, since then I've had a chipped sliver on one molar on the right side because he was distracted chatting with the assistant while drilling, and he could never find the chip I told him about. A chip on the back of my molar on the left side because the opposite upper molar got a filling that was too big and he conveniently ignored when I said the lower molar is chipped. The upper molar has been pockmarked since I was a teenager because of a drill-happy dentist, and my current dentist kept insisting it can't be filled because the holes are too small, but did a filling on that same molar and conveniently left the side with all the holes unfilled. Also two molars on the right side have gumline fillings, and one repeatedly fell out. The last time I went to get it fixed, the dental hygienist was incredibly rude and decided to redo the filling herself with no numbing, no polishing, no isolating the tooth other than some paper towels. So I was sent home with a botched filling covering my gums and blocking the space between my teeth. I went back again to have the excess filling removed, and the same hygienist tried to gaslight me into thinking it was fine that my gums were covered in filling, and that I couldn't fit floss between my molars because my teeth are too tight and not because she literally performed a botched filing on me while I was shaking from tooth pain. So I can't really chew much on either side... and the filling fell out again, unsurprisingly I can finally floss again. She told me the next time it falls out, I have to get a crown. I'm not going back to them, they can't even get basic fillings right, I'm not trusting them with a crown

Definitely don't go back. That sounds awful. I can't say I've dealt with incompetence, thankfully, but I did deal with a number of very gruff and rude dentists in my childhood and adolescence.

[thelibraryofeyonthee]

This is gonna be wild

This is gonna sound wild but the answer is to NOT do. Every impluse that tells you to DO, only pulls you further away from "I will supply all of your needs."

I remember during 2020 when I was going through the most upsetting time of my life; i told my mentor all about what I was experiencing and what did I need to do in order to get here or there and she told me. . .nothing. She told me you are a human being; not a human doing. Doing is such a distraction. We are always doing. In fact we do so much that we inturn miss so much too.

I'm currently sitting in silence and realizing how much of my internal thoughts I drown out simply by doing noise. sitting with myself in silence is so peaceful. Its so calming. Its so wonderful. Yet I allow so much noise in by DOING.

I read something today that said "what is a hobby you do just because you enjoy it. It's not transactional. And I forgot that writing my innermost thoughts is just that. I'm not monetizing this, because I'm simply being this.

My thoughts were what do I need to DO in order to make the money I need to pay for this and that? Then earlier, I thought about something my ex said when I asked her what did I do that would've caused her to fall in love with me so quickly, to which she responded "what makes you think you had to do something for me to love you?" Even now this brings tears to my eyes, because I have been programmed to feel that I have to always DO in order to recieve anything. Even simple things, because me simply being is not enough. But me being is why she loved me. Me being is why life has worked out. Me being is why I receive the best. Me being is how I got the job that I didnt even look nor apply for. Me being is how I got the friends and opportunities that I got.

During the moments of being was when I received so many unexpected things. And I wonder if the reason why we don't truly experience the power of God is because God only can exist when we chose to Be; not do but Be. How can God showup if we're playing God?

Money is always in the back of my mind because I chose to believe that I have to do something in order to get my bills paid, but what if they weren't getting paid easily because I was deciding to do? What if I allowed me doing or trying to figure out a way to pay them was off the table. That it was not my job. I picked these bills because they are what I wanted; however, how they got paid isn't up to me. It's only up to me if i make it up to me.

I know this sounds insane but this is the divine download I got for my own healing. Being a child that never felt truly taken care of, because I got in the drivers seat to take care of the things outside of me so I never learned how nor had the space to take care of me. And now that I am learning my true needs and how to take care of myself, that is my only job. God has removed everything fimilar from me to get me to focus on myself and all things I love and enjoy. I believe God is willingly to handle the rest if I give it to Him. If I give it to Him.

And the loop is because I am so use to not being taken care of it is hard to trust that He will take care of me.

-an intense cry I just had-

God please teach me how to trust you. Please teach me how to trust you without having to do anything to figure out how to trust you.

Even today I told my friend to say more, but talk less. Everything revolving around doing less. And during this season I've been doing less while trying to fight it by doing more. I've only dipped my toe in the less, while simultaneously doing more because I don't believe that I have the right to do less, but the gag is I do.

I have so much time to do less. I have some much time to be a child and do things I love. I used to love caligraphy. I would get my black water colour paints and write chinese script out on brown paper, because that's what the emporers daughter would do. I love piano and would play it because I thought it was beautiful and cool to know. I loved playing dress up, taking photos, making music videos, playing with barbies/make believe, writing, oh and reading. Watching music videos and dancing to them, over and over again. Playing video games, making audio recordings.

[azems-familiar]

more snippets from this oneshot that has gotten way out of hand. at least i'm near the end of the flashbacks now. there is SO much angst. Venat is also really difficult to write, wow. her voice is so particular and i'm so nervous about messing it up

Venat pulls them aside some time later, into an office she’s taken as her own - its former inhabitant was sacrificed to Zodiark in the first wave, and cannot dispute her claim. She’s removed her mask and her cowl is down, her white robes as pristine as ever but her face lined with exhaustion, and once Azem would have matched her intimacy for intimacy, shown the individual beneath their own robes, but now they can’t make themself. They just stand and watch her, a silent sentinel, as she stares at a slowly-spinning globe of Etheirys, the star’s aether currents shifting and shimmering in an endlessly-fluctuating net of color around its continents. Eventually she sighs and looks up at them, her blue eyes heavy with her own grief and resignation and something more ephemeral. “In the streets of Amaurot they cry for Zodiark to save them,” she says, quietly. “They cry out to Him to bring back the lives they’ve lost, the peaceful world they knew. Word has it that the Convocation meets once again to discuss Zodiark and the future, and I fear what they might decide, should the people not be made to see that this suffering cannot simply be banished from their lives entirely. I mean to go to them, to beg them to reconsider, to look inwards for the strength to face the future.” She takes a breath, closes her eyes - gathering her resolve, it seems. “...but I’ve spoken with my followers, our followers, and we’ve agreed that even should the people be made to see, Zodiark is too powerful to be left unchecked. Balance must be brought to Etheirys, and there will only be one way to shackle His strength: to bring forth another being capable of standing against Him.” She speaks of sacrifice and summoning, of creating another god to bleed their people dry. Something twists and squirms in Azem’s stomach, a cold, uncomfortable kernel. “Tell me, Venat,” they say quietly, “did your foreknowledge tell you this would happen? Did you know what would happen to us?” Venat exhales slowly, flexing one hand at her side, eyes lowering, and it’s an answer before she even speaks. “...we cannot know what will come to pass until the moment it does,” she says, slowly, and shakes her head. “I had hoped to be wrong. That I might yet change the course of my friend’s history. But it seems Fate conspires to set my feet on the longest path after all.” They want to be angry at her for it - for the secrets, for the lies, for asking them to trust her when everything has shattered apart anyway, for not letting them help - but they can’t quite muster the strength to. “I see,” they whisper. “...more sacrifices. When do you think it will end, Venat? I did not condone Zodiark’s summoning. I cannot condone whatever you intend to summon either.” “It cannot end until our people let it end,” Venat says, resolute, spine straightening and chin raising, as if- coming to some decision. “Until we end it ourselves. I’ve called you here not to disrupt your grieving, but out of respect for your seat - and to fulfill Hythlodaeus’s last request of me as well as I can.” Azem stiffens at the mention of Hythlodaeus’s name, swallowing hard, and their voice is hoarser than before when they ask, “What last request?” They remember- they remember him saying he needed to speak to Venat privately, they remember taking him to her and willingly giving the two of them space. They remember the way Hythlodaeus had looked almost relieved when he came back to them, as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Had he known, even then, what he was going to do? He couldn’t have. The Convocation hadn’t made a decision. And yet- if Emet-Selch had known the direction their meetings were going in, and had told him- “He asked me to take care of you,” Venat says, gentle, and Azem crumples forward and closes their eyes and struggles to remember how to breathe.

[enigmaticdamned]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐈 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

There’s no greater betrayal than the one that comes from someone who shares the same blood as you in their veins. The one who creates you. A father. Noel Maher. I wish I could remember him for what he pretended to be. The man with a smile like a palette of warmth, a sunlit mirage that masked the colder currents beneath the surface. A man who kept himself up in the latest fashions. A true wolf in sheep’s clothing. The best business man. There wasn’t a deal that he couldn’t make. I wanted to remember him for all the things I admired him for. Instead I remember him as the man who stood over me with a blade in my chest. He meant to kill his only living son and that didn’t matter to him. He didn’t even care for what got us there either.

𝐅 𝐋 𝐀 𝐒 𝐇 𝐁 𝐀 𝐂 ��

“I don’t want him apart of this. You promised you would be good for him and that he could be good!” My mother shouted at my father. I can hear them in his study. I suspect they are unaware of my presence or that I’d be coming by this late. “My patience has run thin, Roselyn! Our son will do what I tell him. I ask of nothing from no one except to fall in line with no exceptions.” His response to her was cold and careless. I never heard him speak to her in that manner when I was around. I could hear her storm off, swinging open his office door. I stayed hidden behind the corner, keeping my presence discreet. “You know. . . for years I stood by and turned a blind eye to all the blood you shed. I looked at you and pretended you were an angel when I knew you were the devil. You begged me to have our son and you promised me you wouldn’t do this to him. I could turn a blind eye to everything but I won’t with this! I will do everything in my power to stop you!” She finally walked away, descending the stairs and he got up to follow her. “You dare?” He asked her but she ignored him. I slipped out the back door, figuring I’d go home that night and give them some air. I wondered what my mom knew and why she was so adamant to stop him.

I went to sleep that night thinking I’d wake up and start unraveling this mystery at dawn. Instead I was disturbed not even two hours later by a phone call from the hospital. “Mr. Maher, your mother is in the ICU and her condition is critical.” For a second I spaced out and all I could hear was the pounding of the beating organ in my chest. My world crumbling around me. This doesn’t feel coincidental. Did my father hurt my mother?

I hung up before I could get the full details from the doctor. I heard something along the lines of her slitting her own wrists and I knew it in my soul that was furthest from the truth. In a panic I rushed out of the bed, grabbing the clothes I had just taken off to shove them back on. I snatched my keys from my dresser and then I headed to my black Audi to race back to my parents place. I skipped stop signs and stoplights, driving almost 80 miles per hour to get to him.

I will unveil the truth. I don’t think he will look me in the eye and tell a lie.

When I arrived I hopped out my car without even removing the keys or closing the door behind me. I was nothing but rage that needed to be purged on him. What could be more important than the bond between family? If you can’t trust family then who could you trust?

I walked inside the house and I looked around for him. I started with his office but he wasn’t there. I looked everywhere until I successfully found him in the backyard sitting by the pool with a glass of whisky in his hand. It was almost like he was celebrating something. I wasted no time as I approach.

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

Enraged I asked him, knocking the glass out his hand and it shattered on the ground. He looked up at me. “What is this about, Nolan?” he asked nonchalantly. He isn’t even pretending to be upset or show any remorse. Is this the monster I looked up too? Is this the moment I see him in his real skin. The truth that had been veiled in the smoke and mirrors of affection, cloaked by the tender illusions of our shared vulnerability.

“I heard you two arguing last night! I was there! I thought I’d leave to give you both some air but—” I couldn’t get my words out because he cut right in “So then you heard enough to know she was threatening my empire. A means to a very tragic end don’t you think?” He spoke of my mother like she was nothing but some outsider threatening his stupid fucking empire! I wanted to break him down for it. “You coward! She is my mother! Your wife! Does that not mean anything to you? Is expanding your empire everything?” I reached down my fingers ruffling up his shirt to grip him by his collar. I raised a fist to strike him but he catches me by the wrist and he said “You like your life don’t you, Nolan? The fancy cars you drive and your penthouses! You wouldn’t have all that if it weren’t for me! I sit back and make all the hard decisions while you and Roselyn enjoy the luxuries!” He stands up to push me off of him. I shake my head in disgust. I’m filled with regret that I ever looked to him as someone I wanted to be like. All the things I did to impress him. I was truly foolish in the end.

I have so much love for him that it makes me ache. It makes me angry and for so long it trapped me like an animal in a cage.

“Fuck you and your empire! I’m going to take it all from under you and make you watch it burn down! You aren’t my father! You are nothing to me, Noel Maher!” For the first time I felt free saying those words. Like the cage I was in had opened.

In my father’s eyes flashed a devil that I never seen before. “It’s a real shame. I thought you’d take after me instead of your pathetic mother.” Blinded by my rage I didn’t see the sharp thick blade that he lunged forward right into my chest cavity. I looked up at him in disbelief, feeling real betrayal for the first time in my life. Not from an enemy nor a friend but my own father. In that moment I learned blood spills blood. So if I can’t trust family then I can’t trust anyone. “You…how could you?” The only words I could force out. The pain of the blade was crippling as he sticks it deeper. Each breath I take I could feel the air getting shorter. With the little strength I had I tried to push him off and he shoved me to the ground like I was light as a feather. “I watched all the footage from my cameras last night and I knew you were here! I figured you’d come back and come to your senses about all this but I realize you could never take after me! You disgust me!” He spoke down to me as he tried to press his foot down on the blade to push it deeper. Treating me like scum beneath his shoes. Hovering over me like he was a god that gets to decide the fate of my life. I reached up to catch his foot, trying to relieve myself of the pain and stop the deadly blade from pushing deeper into me.

“𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙙𝙤𝙜 𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙜 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙. 𝙎𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙’𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧.”

𝐏 𝐑 𝐄 𝐒 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓

Those were the last words of his that I remembered as the darkness swept me away and I drifted into unconsciousness. It has been seven years since it happened. The scar on my chest is a reminder of how lucky I was to escape deaths embrace.

Today marks the anniversary of my mother’s death and I feel I don’t deserve to mourn her. I am out of Noel’s clutches completely but he is still out there and we are at war with one another. I have my own position of power now which makes me untouchable but he is still a powerful man himself which makes it even harder to get to him.

This mark on my chest feels more like a reminder that I failed to get my revenge as long as he still lives.

I stand on my patio, gazing out at the beautiful view the penthouse had to offer. I couldn’t properly enjoy it thinking about Noel. I’m reminded of how my mother said he begged her to have me. I often questioned why he wanted me. To have a child without intention to love them. I was only here to be molded in his image. He didn’t want me to live my own life. He wanted to live through me in the worst way.