#Finding in ourselves we knew things long before we thought we ever did. Memory is a gift even in its gaps because it grants you surprise

[ojirocardigansniper]

i love going back through old writing from when i was a teenager and just being in love just in love. i love these words i love the love that wrote them. i love that these stories compelled me so deeply i thought and wrote about them for years already and will do so for years more. i love that they were trailheads on journeys i didn't yet know i was taking. ideas i followed in curiosity to see what else i could find where they led me. i love that people i've been thinking about for years still draw me into them because i put so much of myself inside them- before i even knew it was me. i sang into a vastness and my own voice echoed back to me over and over. i laid down truths i would learn to live by. there has always been delight and wisdom in the things i wrote. the child wrote in joy and when i read and write in joy i am with again the child. you know?

#chat #getting emotional a little . a lot. Many thoughts these past couple months about the things we return to knowing over and over again #Finding in ourselves we knew things long before we thought we ever did. Memory is a gift even in its gaps because it grants you surprise #You can learn something new about someone or remember something old and feel the love of them so deeply again- and it's you. #It's your little heart- the heated clay inside you then- that gained weight + shape + finger-prints with the years you've been collecting. #words #ownwork

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Coming Home (Part Nine)

Azriel x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

Warnings: Allusions to some abuse, sad thoughts, some smut.

I listened to this song pretty much on repeat while writing this because I was in ~in my feelings~, so I thought I’d add it in case anyone else wanted to listen 🤣

⧪

“I insinuated that she’d brought shame onto the court.” 

Hours later, Rhys paced the length of the sitting room, shoes scuffing against the floor in weary steps. Four pairs of eyes followed each of his movements. 

It wasn’t long after you’d left that the evening had died off, the mood unable to pick itself back up. Amren had returned to her apartment, and Elain had taken herself off to bed. Lucien had left the house with barely a goodbye.

Which left Feyre, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta to watch Rhys agonise over his argument with you.

“Of all the fucking words I could have used.” The High Lord yanked a hand through his hair, shaking his head to himself. “Why did it have to be that one.”

Shame. He couldn’t believe he’d plucked that very word from thin air. The one he knew was a verbal weapon capable of slicing deep. And yet, the usually silver-tongued High Lord had found himself so bested by his own anger that the stupid fucking word had practically fallen from his mouth. 

Much to everyone’s surprise — even her own — Nesta was the one to pipe up with a response. From the settee she shared with Cassian, she sat up, her eyes on Rhys’s desperate pacing. 

“Is it truly so bad — what you said?” She asked. “Surely Y/N will come round once she’s calmed down.”

And Nesta could be forgiven for really thinking so — anyone could, who wasn’t privy to the true weight behind Rhys’s words. But this was bigger than some petty argument between siblings — this would not just blow over. 

“That word,” Rhys murmured, finally falling still as he opted to perch on the arm of Feyre’s chair. “Our father would use it as a weapon against Y/N. For no other reason than to hurt her.”

Feyre’s soft features pinched. “But why?”

“Their father hated Y/N.” Cassian spoke up. “And he never tried to hide it, either. We all saw it for ourselves.” 

Azriel nodded his agreement. 

“That’s absurd.” Nesta pursed her lips. Even her own strained relationship with her father hadn’t ever destroyed the love he had for her until his last breath. It seemed…unthinkable. “What reason could your father possibly have had to hate her?”

“He never wanted another child.” Rhys stared forward like the memories were playing out before him. “He was never a natural parent, but…he could tolerate me. But he resented that my mother fell pregnant again so many years later. And for her to birth a girl who also lacked the Illyrian traits I’d inherited from my mother.” He shook his head. “His hatred was irrational and it consumed him. On the rare occasions he visited Windhaven, he didn’t try to hide it. And it seemed to just worsen with every year my sister grew.”

Feyre shifted in her seat. “Did he…hurt her?”

Rhys’s face was complete, icy rage as he nodded stiffly. “Sometimes. He’d disciplined me before, of course — when I was too young to defend myself. But with Y/N…he seemed to go out of his way to find reasons to punish her. He stopped when I found out about it and threatened to rip apart his mind from the inside out. But that didn’t prevent him from wielding verbal weapons. He made sure that Y/N was completely aware of how he felt about her. That he had no love for her. That he was ashamed of her.”

And Rhys had more or less said the same thing.

Feyre rubbed his arm soothingly. Nesta watched. Cassian seemed to be reflecting on those awful times gone by as he idly played with Nesta’s hair.

And Azriel — Azriel was pure, still rage in the chair in which he sat. He didn’t dare open his mouth; wasn’t sure what might come out. If he didn’t get out of there and take to the skies soon, he may just snap. His shadows whispered to him to calm. 

What none of them realised was that the focus of his anger was not on the past. 

No — he’d spent many hours fantasising about how he would have destroyed Rhys’s father if he’d been given the chance. His hatred for him had been a living, tangible thing. To have seen first-hand the way the coward had treated his own daughter—

But tonight — here, like this — anger like nothing else he’d ever felt was directed at Rhys. It was building inside of Az by the second, a carnal, feral thing that inexplicably yearned to protect, to defend, the victim of Rhys’s vicious words. Az couldn’t understand it himself; he didn’t try to. There was no time for that. If he didn’t get out of there soon, he’d snap. 

Not stopping to worry about how his behaviour might be perceived, he stood. 

He strode out of there without a word. 

⧪

I’m sorry.

The parchment appeared out of thin air, floating down and — smacking you square in the face. You clenched your jaw. It was the third note that morning. 

The other two lay discarded on your desk, Rhys’s handwriting peeking up at you and begging you to answer. You took all three, screwed them up and threw them into the fire. 

Five minutes later, another note appeared: Please just talk to me.

Your jaw clenched again. You were going to lose your shit. You grabbed a pen so hard, it was a wonder it didn’t snap in two. Practically tore through the parchment as you scratched back: I’m working, Rhysand. 

You watched the note disappear, leaving an empty space in front of you. It was seconds before more parchment materialised from thin air.

I hate it when you call me Rhysand. He’d written. And beneath it: Tell me about the strangest patient you’ve seen today.

Little did he know, you weren’t working at all. Little did he know, you’d asked Madja to take over at the clinic while you shut yourself in your house, all the curtains drawn, and familiarised yourself with the burn of whiskey. 

You poured yourself another glass, mulling over whether or not to reply to your brother’s note. It had been five days — barely long enough for the hole he’d punched in your heart to begin healing. You needed time, space—

Another piece of parchment appeared: It’s Starfall soon. Can’t we sort this?

Gods, Starfall. You couldn’t — you couldn’t even think about that right now, on top of everything else. Your head and heart were both already crammed full to the brim. If you thought too hard about Starfall, you’d think about that night. The stupid, attempted kiss on the balcony. 

And how everything had changed since then. Damage that seemed to be irreparable. What had once been a close friendship with Azriel was nothing but a withering memory now. It could be nothing else as you respected his wishes — kept well away from him. 

And you didn’t even have Lucien, now, to ease that ache with his wicked humour.

I just need some space, you eventually wrote back. You needed a lot more than space; a magic fix to this fucked-up situation, perhaps. A chance to go back in time and undo what you’d done. A chance to be better so you never could have brought shame down on anyone. 

It worked, though. After the parchment disappeared before your eyes, the space it had occupied remained empty. Rhys didn’t write again. 

You took the bottle of whiskey, and you drank until you slept.

⧪

The male was handsome in a soft, subtle way, you supposed. 

Short blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. Tall with just a hint of muscle. Pretty — that was the word you’d use to describe him. He was pretty. 

The kind of male you may have noticed in a crowd once upon a time, had your heart not been snatched up by the Shadowsinger. Every other male had paled in comparison since. 

But that was okay. That didn’t matter. You weren’t here to have your heart snatched up again. You were here to forget. 

Across the tavern, a female strummed a lute, the chords seeming to reach across the room and caress you, coaxing you into its sensual song. Every inch of you was warmed — perhaps by the music. Perhaps by the alcohol. Perhaps by the male’s hands that had started with just a cautious palm on your back, and had snowballed in confidence, in intensity, as the night had worn on. Now, his soft thumb stroked against the skin of your neck as he leaned in to speak into your ear. 

“I’m a jeweller.” He told you, his voice slightly raised over the music, the chatter. “I work for my father. Haven’t been doing it for very long.” 

That much was obvious. With velvety hands so untouched by years of work—

You didn’t care. Such useless, useless information. He could be a grocer or an artist or a fucking hermit for all you cared. The night would still end the same way. You shot him a seductive smile that said you were totally invested in what he was saying and pushed his half-finished drink towards him.

“Drink up.” You said. “And we can go back to mine.”

Those blue eyes of his flashed darker, hungrier. In one big gulp, the liquid in his glass was drained. His tongue swiped a bead of whiskey that lingered on his bottom lip. 

If he knew who you were — his High Lord’s sister — he hadn’t given it away. Maybe it didn’t bother him. Maybe it wouldn’t be an annoying obstruction for you tonight, thank the Mother. 

Three weeks. Rhys had given you three weeks of space — had told the rest of the family to give you space — and you still didn’t feel ready to face them; not even Mor. You couldn’t bear the suggestion of what they might think behind your back — that you’d been living in pure self-indulgence while they needed you the most. That you’d been the disappointment. Rhys probably wasn’t even aware of the deep, buried feelings that his loose words had unearthed in you. That slicing, aching inferiority complex that had followed you throughout every step of your life. 

Maybe you didn’t even deserve to be part of the Inner Circle. The Night Court. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be Rhys’s sister.

It was these thoughts that had pawed and prodded at you every day for the last few weeks. You were sinking deeper and deeper, and your only relief was losing yourself in the burn of alcohol and the arms of a stranger, finding pleasure for a few hours that would leave you even lonelier afterwards. If the males and females you took to your bed didn’t baulk at who you were, and run in the other direction in fear of their High Lord’s disapproval, you were at least afforded a bit of respite from the constant shadow hanging over you. 

Never did it last.

You’d had enough of pleasantries, of small talk. Not wanting to wait a second longer for that temporary relief, you yanked the male up, barely sparing him a glance as you pulled him out of the tavern.

“I never got your name.” He said, his voice considerably louder as he followed you out into the cold night air. 

“I’m nobody.” You told him, dragging him along. “Absolutely nobody.”

True, a voice in your head hissed at you. Too true. 

And you couldn’t be sure — maybe you were more intoxicated than you’d realised — but you could have sworn that your words were swept away on a sudden wind, caught up in a passing shadow, all produced by the thunderous beat of wings above you.

⧪

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

His hands were like ice against your skin as he tugged at the laces of your dress. The two of you stumbled into your bedroom, teeth clashing and breaths huffing.

“You look like — like an angel.”

Gods, if he didn’t stop talking—

“I’ve never seen—“

“Shh.” You silenced him with a hard kiss, pushing him down onto your bed. “Fuck me.”

He grunted at your words, those too-soft hands finally pulling the dress from your body; you’d not bothered with underwear tonight, deeming it too much of an obstruction. Without even looking at him, you practically tore his breeches open and yanked them down, freeing his length from the confines. He gripped himself, pumping his cock a couple of times before lining it up with your centre. 

“Fuck.” He gasped as you sank down onto him. Immediately, you began to move your hips, and his hands landed on them in a delicate grip. 

“Don’t be gentle.” You moved faster, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your breast.

His touch was tentative, unsure, as he squeezed. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt—“

“Yes.” You hissed between your teeth. “Harder.”

He flipped you both over in one single move, your back hitting the mattress. As if your words had given him confidence, he slammed back into you, the different angle causing a slight pinch of pain. Good. Exactly what you wanted. 

Your head fell back, breathy words telling him to go faster, harder, to grab you until his fingers bruised your skin, to bite you hard enough to draw blood. He was just getting to a rhythm that might actually bring you to release, hitting a delicious spot deep inside you, when it happened. 

A flash of darkness. Of movement. Your bedroom door being opened so violently, it slammed back against the wall. The male was ripped off of you. 

Azriel was there, huge and towering, so much bigger than the male who had been inside you only seconds ago. He’d grabbed him by the throat.

“Get the fuck out.” He growled, shoving him out of the room. He snatched the scraps of his clothes from the floor, throwing them in his direction. Within seconds, the front door was banging shut. 

You barely had a chance to sit up, to cover yourself with the sheet, before Azriel turned to you. The hazel of his eyes was darker than you’d ever seen — dangerous, threatening. 

“What the fuck, Azriel?” You snapped. “What the fuck are you—“

Your words cut off as you watched him stalk towards your armoire. He didn’t stop to glance at the tunic and leggings that he pulled out — simply threw them at you, his jaw moving. 

“Get dressed. You need to come with me — now.” He said through gritted teeth. “We need a healer.”

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

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[w1ldthoughts]

The Forgotten One Chapter Eight: Dear Diary

Series Masterlist

A/n: Two chapters left!!! Thank you again for reading, I love you all.

“I’m going to murder that fucking little weasel. I knew I didn’t like him.” Cleo spits out.

You ignored her threats and focused on the task at hand. “We need to get to Churchill Downs now and tell Jack what’s going on before Ben comes back from visiting his family in California. And before you say what I think you’re about to say, yes, he’s in California for sure. My doctor cleared it so I dropped him off at the airport yesterday and he posted on his Instagram story from Cali this morning. We’ll get Jack’s lawyers on it and bury these bitches and their fuckass baby.”

You covered your mouth after you spoke to stifle a laugh. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t say bad things about an unborn child, they have nothing to do with this.”

Cleo sighs, “fuck them and fuck that baby. I do not care.”

The two of you erupted with laughter, until you were reminded of reality. “How did I forgive the cheating the first time? Back when I thought that he cheated I mean.”

“It took a minute and emotions were high but you did agree to give each other space and your relationship was pretty much hanging in the balance.” She sniffs a little. “There were a lot of tears shed and a lot of honest conversations. But at the end of the day Jack’s story from that night was just full of holes. He had no memory of sleeping with the girl and he’s too powerful and influential of a figure to put himself in such a compromising position and deep down I think you knew that. He might have gotten too comfortable with another woman who just caught him at his worst but I don’t actually think that you thought for a second that he would cheat on you. You were more upset about fighting with him.”

Oh yes, the fight. Another thing you were still trying to piece together. One battle at a time, you tried to remind yourself.

You had to practically run around Churchill Downs in order to keep up with Cleo’s long strides. She’d been waiting for the moment that you and Ben ended things and you knew she is and always will be team Jack. His assistant Sadie was sitting at her desk with a weird look on her face.

“Mr. Harlow is out of the office until next week. And he also told me that he did not want to see either of you. So I suggest you move along.” She gave the two of you a smirk, her condescending tone would have bothered you had it not been for the mission you were currently on.

“Well can you tell him that we need to speak to him…it’s an emergency.” Cleo demanded, urging Sadie to pick up the office phone after she rolled her eyes. It rang a few times before the woman relayed the message, waiting patiently on the line for a response.

There was that smug ass look again. “He asked if it was work related.”

You and Cleo looked at each other before she spoke, “um, not exactly. But—”

“If it’s not work related then he says there’s nothing for you to talk about. Please shut the door on your way out ladies, have a wonderful rest of your day.”

Cleo mocked her and they stared each other down as you walked out the door to figure out your next move. You immediately called Jack on your phone. There were a few rings and then a busy signal. Cleo tried on her phone and was met with the same results.

He had blocked the both of you.

“You did tell him to forget you. This is definitely a solid way of doing it.” Your best friend tries to reason. This whole thing was all your fault and now you had to find a way to fix it.

“We need to take care of this ourselves then,” you began as you walked back to her car, more determined than ever.

Cleo started driving off with a confused look on her face, the last few hours had really blown her mind. “We already have all the files from Reed and the video footage from the room. It’s a pretty clear cut case of extortion, what else is there for us to do?”

“We have pictures of Quinn, pictures of Jack and pictures of them together. Then we have pictures of Ben and Quinn together and a weird video from a hotel room that was likely not legal activity and will probably not be admissible in court. It’s pretty much their word against mine and all they have to say is that I’m mentally incompetent because of my brain injury. And now that Jack is out, I have no solid leg to stand on or a team of powerful lawyers at my disposal.”

She let out a groan and a deep sigh, you were right. “So what the hell are we going to do?”

“I’m going to get Ben to confess. Pretend to be on his side and use whatever feelings he has, real or not against him. He faked it with me for months, I can do it for a few hours. And I have time to prepare. In the meantime, I need to focus on recovering memories.” You walked back into your apartment and pulled out a journal in your desk drawer. “Everything that I know so far has gone in here, I’m going to put all of the pieces together from this and put it on my laptop so I have it all laid out in front of me.”

“They messed with the wrong bitch, I love it. I will let you get to work and I will figure out how to build a solid case and get exactly what we need.” You hugged her, thanking her for everything. “I love you, you know I got you…always. We’re going to make them regret ever doing this to you and Jack, okay?”

“Okay. And I love you too, always.” Cleo locked the door behind her and you got to work.

A few months earlier…

Finding a work-life balance was becoming more of a struggle. There was work y/n who was early to every meeting and knew the history of the company like the back of her hand as well as having a clear cut vision for the expansion of Churchill Downs Inc. in the future. Then there was home y/n, who had been adjusting to living with her boyfriend full-time and figuring out how their lives actually worked together. Like who was doing the dishes at night and little shit that really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but was suddenly super important. And then there was Jack Harlow’s girlfriend y/n, the public figure who everyone wanted to dissect…all the fucking time. It was slowly killing you and your boyfriend couldn’t see that.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t come to one more event this week. The mayor will be there and all of these people that I need to get cozy with so I can continue to have their respect. It’s gonna look kind of ridiculous if I show up there without you.”

It felt like you’d been having very similar little arguments all month and this was just the final straw. “There is no just. It’s always going to be ‘one more thing’ and I’m tired of being paraded around as just the girl on your arm. I’m your Director of Operations, I present in front of the Board of Directors once a month,” you paused to collect yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose with a sigh, “Jack I need to be respected at work. Not just be the girlfriend who slept her way to the top.”

“Nobody is saying that about you.” He says, sounding exasperated.

“They don’t have to. It’s written all over their faces. And when I nod and smile like I’m supposed to? Everyone keeps looking at me like I’m this ungrateful bitch. Like you’re some grand prize that I won and I’m supposed to sit there and celebrate. I’ve lived an entire life without you and now I’m just supposed to live the rest of my life for you? Fuck no.”

Jack shakes his head, “maybe sometimes you can just pretend that I am the fucking prize! Not everything has to be this huge fucking deal, I just need you to do this one thing for me, take a few stupid pictures and we’ll come home and relax.”

“You don’t get it because this has been your entire life. My god, you have no idea the pressure that I’m under because I spend so much time reassuring you that you’re doing amazing and that you’ve earned everything you have, but where’s my reassurance? I don’t want fucking extravagant gifts all the time. I want my partner to see for who I am, fuck the optics.”

Love is hard sometimes. But you don’t fight for something—someone this hard unless you love the shit out of them. That’s what the fight was about. Two people who are experiencing opposite sides of a very public relationship while simultaneously trying to keep the company they love afloat. Sounds melodramatic when you really sit and think about it but when emotions are running high and you mix business with pleasure, things are bound to get messy. But then you take a step back, realize that no fight is worth losing the love that you worked so hard to nurture and then everything just kind of falls back into place. You woke up from that memory recognizing that things really were so much simpler than you thought. You and Jack had a normal, loving relationship and when there were inevitable disagreements, you communicated through them and found your way back to each other. Nothing that happened between the two of you was actually life altering, except the time you were living in now.

Suddenly needing some comfort from him, you went back through some of your old texts. Jack was cracking jokes of course and you delivered witty responses. There were days when he was out of town and would text you just to tell you he loved and missed you. But there were things in there that he said that felt so familiar.

Everything about you makes me want to be better, try harder, do more.

God, you’re the most powerful woman I know. I can’t get enough of you.

You laughed to yourself, out loud in the living room. These were all things Ben had said to you. Everything you thought you liked about him actually came from the person you were trying so hard to let go of. You pulled out your laptop to put in a new entry to include in your timeline of events.

Dear Computer Diary,

I have been dating Jack the entire time.

Five days later…

Jack was hiding out in his parent’s house ever since he got back from New York. He couldn’t keep going back to that big, empty house alone for another night. Fuck that. All he wanted to do was eat his feelings and for everyone to stop asking him if he was okay. So that’s what he’d been doing…the last three days.

His mom barged into the guest house early in the morning on day four of his personal retreat. “Sweetheart, you can’t keep going like this. It’s depressing.” Maggie sighs.

“Can’t I just mourn my relationship in the comfort of my childhood home in peace? What’s so wrong about that?” He willed himself not to cry. Not this time. Not again.

“What’s wrong is that my son is willingly letting the most important person in his life walk away without a fight. Since when do you do that?”

He laid his head in her lap as she ran his fingers through his hair and it made him feel like a kid again. Safe, cared for and protected from the harshness of the world. “I don’t want to fight for someone who has specifically asked me not to. Getting kind of tired of having the door slammed in my face over and over.”

“Honey, what you and y/n have? That shit doesn’t just grow on trees or fall out of the sky. It's the kind of love that takes work, you cultivated and watered it carefully for so many years. And now you’re ready to just…throw it all away?”

Jack knew his mom had a point. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” she gave him room so he could sit up and look her in the eye, “you took a backseat. Moved at her pace which was sweet and admirable. But you showed her friendship, you didn’t show her romance. You didn’t show her love. You placed her in situations to stimulate her memories. And instead of actively pursuing her as who she is now, you tried to get her to be the person she doesn’t remember she was.”

She was right, he had been so focused on getting you to remember what was, that he didn’t even appreciate what is. He knew you were placing so much pressure on yourself to hurry up and recover and get back to normal that he hadn’t realized his part in it. And when you ran away from your pain in a frenzy…he let you go out of the immense hurt the two of you had been causing each other. He felt those familiar tears brimming his eyes and his mom gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead, giving him some time to himself. It was a quick cry, just so he could get that final weight off his shoulders. After he collected himself, he grabbed his phone and knew exactly who to call.

“Urb? Hey. Yeah I’m good bro, I’m good. Listen, I need your help with something. Can we meet somewhere in two hours? All right brother, I’ll see you there.”

They had some fucking work to do.

Taglist

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@jackiehollanderr

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow au #jack harlow angst #jackman thomas harlow

[redwineconversation]

you (might) know ball, I know Aristotle (aka the Amandine Miquel dilemma)

Contrary to what feels like the majority of fans on Twitter, but maybe on brand for me, I'm not keen at all on the idea of Miquel being Lyon's next coach when the door slams shut behind Bompastor. So let's talk about why hitting the brakes on the Miquel to Lyon campaign is actually a good idea.

Should I put this under a read more considering how much I monologue? Probably. Did I? No.

There are two main things which deeply concern me about Miquel: her complete and utter lack of UWCL experience, and her management style. Let's pour ourselves a glass of wine and have a good and proper chat as though we are tortured poets.

I'm far too lazy to actually find this post, but in April 2022 ish I wrote something along the lines of "I truly do not care who [this team] fucks (over). I just want to win." That still stands. I want to win and I fucking hate losing. I cannot stand it.

And it's one of the reasons why I like Lyon, because there's always going to be - well, I say always, it should be as long as the core players are there - there's always going to be a part of them that genuinely hates losing, too. I need a team whose hatred of losing is greater than their desire to win. I need the thought of losing to keep them up at night. I need losing to change them.

And that mentality, right, it's not learned, it's innate in the purest sense of the term. Lyon are who they are because the thought of being anything else horrifies them. Just look at how much it bothers them when they get written off. This team likes to consider the UWCL trophy as being theirs. They will do almost anything to keep it.

That's not something you can coach. I don't think you can coach a killer instinct, I think it's either there or it's not. Monsters recognize monsters, or something, I guess. But the point is either a player already has a killer instinct or they don't. They don't become bloodthirsty halfway through their playing career.

The UWCL is different from league games. Coralie Ducher on OLPlay - who is a former Lyon player - said that the physicality is different, the tempo is different, the intensity is different. Lyon plays so well in the UWCL because they are used to it. They have been there many, many times before, UWCL games are muscle memory at this point for them. They know how to get the job done because they have done it.

Miquel however does not. She has not played in the UWCL. She has not managed a team in the UWCL. For me that is such a fundamental red flag, and I am so perplexed that people hand wave it away to the point of actually saying "the players can just bail her out" (I wish I had that tweet saved but also don't believe in outing people's social media, but that's another story). If your argument is the players can just bail her out while she learns on the job then Kang might as well just save some money and let the players coach themselves.

Has Miquel ever had to coach a game with as high stakes as a UWCL knockout game? No. We don't know what she is capable of doing, and again, it's unfair to put the burden on Lyon to find out. We shouldn't have to find out if Miquel can get Lyon past the semis against PSG, for example. Or, hell, even out of the group stages. I don't want to finish last in the group stage, or depending on the playoff games go, in qualifiers, and be knocked out of the UWCL and people come up with the excuse "it's okay, she's learning on the job." It's not up to Lyon to be the learning curve.

Bompastor's arrival as head coach has a pretty considerable anecdote to it, and that's that Vasseur, may the history books forget his name, literally drove the team head first into the fucking wall. The players didn't like him, the results weren't there, and he got kicked to the curb accordingly. Lyon was in such a state that Aulas brought Bompastor in because he wanted to save his favorite children. Bompastor already knew what the Lyon DNA was so she would be able to restore it. If Vasseur's damage wasn't what it was, then I am not sure Aulas would have appointed her as head coach.

So Bompastor already knew what made this team click, because she had been a part of it, so there wouldn't be that much of a learning curve. Her assignment was really just getting Lyon back on track, which she did in the 2021-2022 season but there are debates as to whether she did in the following seasons.

Bompastor knew how to handle big personalities because she is/was one herself, but she also lost the locker room this season for sure, and that's actually pretty significant. If Bompastor, who has the Lyon DNA, can't keep control of the Lyon locker room, then what guarantee is there that Miquel will keep it? What guarantee is there that Miquel will even be able to control it from the start? Her management career consists of bringing up academy players from a D2 team into a D1 team.

Great, and that's admirable, I like what's she done with Reims. But Reims is not Lyon, they're two completely different teams with completely different expectations and completely different players. Lyon does have some extremely strong personalities, even if their heart is in the right place. Bompastor knew how to handle it - until she didn't - because she knew how Lyon clicked. I don't think Renard, Hegerberg, Le Sommer, etc - they expect things to be done a certain way, and there is fierce resistance when it's not. Renard and Hegerberg pushed Pedros out because he wasn't challenging them enough in practice, and Pedros won a triple and a double with them. Trophies do not give you immunity in this team.

But let's get back to Miquel's management style, and true to form, this is another of my favorite soapboxes: Lyon is not a development club. I will die on that hill. It's my Sisyphus. If you want to be a competitive club, you have to get experienced players. You have to have players who already know how to get the job done. You don't win the UWCL with freshly promoted to the first team academy players. You win it by having players who have been there before.

Now, you can argue those players had to start somewhere, and I couldn't agree more. My issue is that it's unfair to put the burden on Lyon to be the "somewhere". I don't want to see what happens in a few years - I want to win now, because I am competitive now, because I am ambitious now. I don't want to lose. Send academy players out on loan, let another club be responsible for fucking around and finding out, let Lyon keep their winning heritage. That heritage will be lost if experienced players are pushed out in favor of developing academy kids.

Another argument I saw on Twitter, and one I strongly disagree with, is that if Miquel had Lyon's resources at her disposal, then the sky's the limit. it goes back to an earlier point - why should Lyon be responsible for Miquel's learning curve? If there was an intermediate club with bigger resources than Reims - like, say, AS Roma, or Ajax - then I think that would be a far better stepping stone. Otherwise it's literally handing Miquel the keys to a Maserati and hoping she passes her driving test in it.

'Miquel deserves a shot at coaching Lyon". No, respectfully, she doesn't. She did well against a - and I am being generous - good team. That cannot be grounds for coaching what was is arguably one of, if not the, best teams in women's football. You don't deserve a shot. You earn it from experience.

Or at least that should be the philosophy if you want Lyon to keep winning. Now, and in the future.

#all good love stories start in the rain #amandine miquel #I cannot emphasize enough how much the argument WE DON'T KNOW WHAT SHE WILL DO SO SHE DESERVES A SHOT!!! drives me up the wall #I don't want to pick up the wreck of a car crash so let's not give her the keys to begin with

[askthepsychic]

A moment later, Rey becomes aware of another mental pattern joining theirs, coming into being behind her. She quiets her thoughts to listen to the new arrival more closely.

“What? What is this? This… this isn’t just a dream anymore, is it? I feel something. Something… familiar. Like a half forgotten friend from a long time ago. Wait… is this….MAGIC?!”

Rey can’t help but smile. “That’s right. Your world doesn’t have true magic, does it?”

“No. Um, who are you. The memories are all becoming as clear as day again, but your voice isn’t in any of them.”

Rey sighs. “My name is Rey. This is the first time we have met, Megan Williams.”

Megan sighs “I see. But it’s actually Megan Richards now. Rey, can I ask… is everything okay there? I mean, it’s been a long time, but normally a surprise visit like this meant trouble. I’m perfectly ready to rush to the defense of you all again like I always did back then if I need to.”

Rey sighs. “I see. You really are that sort of person. I’m really happy to know that wasn’t exaggerated. You truly were what they needed back then.”

Megan is silent a moment. “Back then? Heh. Suddenly I get the feeling that you aren’t here to invite me for a visit or to ask me to rescue you. Rey. I… I want to know. How long ago was… back then on your end?”

Rey sighs. “I knew from the moment I was enlisted to participate in this that you would ask. Just as those who enlisted me knew I would answer. Megan. Steel yourself. Grasp my left hand if you’re ready.” When Rey feels Megan’s hand grasping hers, she says “for us, it has been… more than six… millennia since you were last here.”

Megan sighs. “I… I’m not going back again, am I?”

Rey sighs “the world you knew. The world I know. Though they are the same in terms of planet, they are still very different places. I’m sorry, Megan, but… I must be blunt and inform you that the world I know has no place for you.”

Rey can feel Megan nodding in understanding. “I get it. Some things have just changed too drastically to allow for me anymore. Then there’s just one more thing I want to ask before you tell me why you’ve contacted me. My ponies. The ones I knew back then. What happened to them after the link was destroyed?”

Rey smiles. “You would’ve been proud of them Megan. Losing you, instead of breaking them, galvanized them to find their own strength. They took that moment to heart and used it to motivate themselves so they could become stronger than they had ever been before, building the basis of a kingdom on the broken pieces of that link. They rose up and never looked down. Rushed forward and never looked back. If ever they spared a moment to think of what had been, it was only to motivate themselves to do better again.”

Megan says “enough. You’re absolutely right, Rey. I’m… unbelievably proud of them. I spent so many nights haunted by nightmares of so many different worst case scenarios. I still have nightmares now. Horrible visions of ways they could have suffered without me or… the Rainbow. Of course. That’s why this is happening tonight isn’t it? You or your recruiters have somehow crafted a method to bring the Rainbow of Light back to your world, haven’t you?”

Rey nods “that’s right Megan. But to forestall any sort of anger you might feel from that, I want to point out that along with restoring an ancient defense to ourselves, there is a consideration for you as well. Your world has no true magic of its own. The Rainbow of Light is an incarnation of pure magic. There could be… issues born of these two facts.”

Megan nods, “right. A world without true magic would have no ability to defend itself from any effects the presence of a powerful magical force could cause. But really, that’s not even a shadow of a consideration for me. You see, when the Rainbow Bridge shattered, and I was left holding the Rainbow of Light with no way to get it back to you, I made an oath to myself. Even if I could never go back, I would still, with no hesitation, return the Rainbow to you the first chance I got. And this is starting to seem like a really good chance to do just that. Tell me what to do.”

Rey smiles. “You may have noticed I specified that you grasp my left hand to let me know you’d braced yourself. I specified the left because the right is enchanted with a powerful transportation spell, capable of carrying one thing from one world to another. If you place the Rainbow of Light in my right hand, that’ll be it. It will leave your world and return to this one. However, you do realize that doing this will mean surrendering the last link to this world that you have, correct?”

Megan is once again silent for a moment, then says “it doesn’t belong to me. I may have wielded it the most often, but it belongs to you. It always has. I’ve come to terms with what fulfilling my oath would mean. Rey, hold your right hand out to me.”

Rey does, then feels something get placed into her hand. When she looks, she can’t help but marvel at how some of the greatest powers in existence can manifest in such simple items.

As Rey looks at the locket holding the Rainbow of Light, a small burst of light emits from her hand. Nyx says “with that, the Rainbow should now reappear in your hand back in our world, Rey.”

Megan, hearing the other voice, chances a look around and smiles, seeing the two ponies. “You never really know how much you really care about someone or something until you realize just the sight of them is enough to make you happy. I don’t recognize either of you, but just seeing ponies again even if it’s the last time still makes me smile.”

Luna bows to Megan “Megan. We have much we owe you for. This act of prevention against eventual calamity isn’t nearly enough to repay you, but I fear it will be all we will ever be able to do. Please, forgive this poor show of gratitude.”

Megan smirks, tilting her head and crossing her arms. “Okay, you have got to be some sort of princess or something. The way you talk, dead giveaway. Although, I’m not quite sure what kind of pony you are. I remember ponies with wings and ponies with horns, but not ponies with both.”

Nyx smiles “we are alicorns. Speaking in terms of attributes, we are a unified form of the other three pony tribes. Pegasi, unicorns and earth ponies all in one.”

Megan tilts her head. “What about sea ponies? Flutter ponies? Has something happened to them?”

Luna sighs. “I believe it may now be time to reveal to you that at some point in the past, earth ponies, unicorns and pegasi began feuding with each other. This was eventually resolved… but the cost of the feuding eventually consumed Dream Valley. The kingdom we live in now, Equestria, is in an entirely different region. Much was lost when Dream Valley was consumed by the Wendigo’s curse, the flutter ponies included. As for the sea ponies, it had been some centuries since our last open communication with them. They have become a secretive tribe, allowing only occasional visits to their undersea domain at the best of times. As we must wait for them to contact us in order for communication to begin, diplomacy proceeds at a slow crawl at best. I don’t begrudge them their secrecy, but I would hope we could be more united in the future,”

Megan nods. “I’m with you on that. But I can’t help but notice this group dream deal seems to be getting less defined. I think I better let you go before you hurt yourselves.”

Luna nods. “Once more, I want to apologize that we can’t do more to thank you, Megan. That being said…”

“WAAAAAAIIIIIITTTTTT.”

(Picture found on deviantart. Artist https://www.deviantart.com/starbat )

#askthepsychicofponyville #ask me anything #ask blog #original character #mlp #rey #the lunar knight: nyx

[inkylizard]

When I was small, a family friend gave me a copy of The Little Bookroom by Eleanor Farjeon, and it became one of those companion-books, comfort books, that I returned to and re-read over and over. Some stories stood out to me more than others and some I never really got; that’s the way sometimes, and sometimes those stories wait in the back of our minds until we’ve ‘lived our way into the answers’, or at least into a different perspective; until we’re ready for them. So that’s how I came back to the memory of this story last night, processing the after effects of christmas dinner with family who love me but seem unable or unwilling to grapple with my gender identity; half asleep, like the ground dropping out beneath me; they destroyed it because it didn’t have a name...

I read half of On The Way To Language for my BFA thesis, so I know that Language is the House of Being, and I know what that means when I say it (and yes, I also know that Heidegger was an antisemite, a coward at best and a full-on nazi at worst, I know all of that and his work has still had value for me; you can re-read your harry potter books, you just can’t buy new copies, y’know? anywho). I had to take the long, painstaking way around to understanding that it’s almost impossible to recognise, realise, conceptualise a Thing without a Word. Which is how come I couldn’t know, until I was in my early thirties, that I’m nonbinary, genderqueer, demisexual, &c. I didn’t know it was a thing. I didn’t know the words. And I think about that a lot. We destroy the possibilities of those things that we cannot name. The Wise Men say it cannot be. I’m not here tryna say that E.F. wrote this story as a trans/nonbinary allegory. I very much doubt it. But it’s there all the same. More things in heaven and earth than dreamt in your philosophy, you arbiters of possibility, you deciders of lot. We are emergent, not fixed. We’ll name ourselves if we have to. We’ll find the people who will speak those names with love. And your power will fade. And it won’t matter that you couldn’t believe.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

THE FLOWER WITHOUT A NAME

One day a Cottager's child, whose name was Christie, went into the meadows beyond her Mother's garden and picked a flower.  This happened long ago, yet not so long ago as all that; that is to say, it did not happen today, nor did it happen on the first day of all, but on some day in between.

Christie was delighted with her flower, for it was very beautiful, and she came running to find her Mother, who was watering the pinks in the round bed.

'Mother,' cried Christie, 'look at my pretty flower I've found!'

Her Mother was never too busy to look when Christie asked her to, so she put down her jug of water and took the flower in her hand.

'There's a pretty flower now!' she said.

'Yes, Mother, isn't it?' said Christie.  'What is its name?'

'Why,' said her Mother, 'it is a--it is a----  Dear me, to think I don't know its name!  You must ask Father.'

Christie ran to the Cottager, who was mending the fence, and she held up her flower.  'What is its name, Father?' she asked.

'Let me see now,' said the Cottager, laying down his hammer.  He looked at the flower for a minute or two, and then he scratched his head. 'Well, well!' said he.  'I've forgotten its name, if ever I knew it. But give it to me, for I'm to see my Lord's Keeper about some mole-traps, and maybe he'll know, being woodwise.'

When Christie's Father had had his talk with the Keeper, he showed him the flower.  'What's the name of this here?' asked the Cottager.

The Keeper looked at it, and sniffed at it, and thought a bit.  But at the end of his thinking he said, 'I never saw its like before, in wood or field or marsh or hedge.  I don't know its name.  However, I'm just about going up to the Manor, so I'll take it along and ask my Lord's Clerk, for he's a clever young man, and has to wear spectacles along of reading so many books.'

Now my Lord's Clerk had studied most things, and flowers not the least of them.  He had indeed in his Lord's library all the books about flowers that ever were written.  So when the Keeper sought him out and said, 'I've a flower here I'd like to know the name of,' the Clerk answered, 'Show it to me, and I'll tell you its name.'

But when he set eyes on it he knew he had spoken too soon.

'That's a queer thing!' said my Lord's Clerk.  'For I know the names of all the flowers in the world, by both their court and country names, yet I don't know the name of this one.  Leave it with me, and I'll see if I can find out.'

The Keeper left the flower with the Clerk, and the Clerk pressed it and dried it, and spent a whole year trying to find out something about it. He put the question to the wisest scholars in the kingdom, and the matter spread abroad till wise men in lands over the sea were all puzzling their wits about the name of the flower.  But in the end they could not find one for it.

So after a twelvemonth the Clerk came to the Keeper and said, 'That flower you brought me has no name at all.'

'What flower's that?' asked the Keeper, who had forgotten all about it. The Clerk reminded him of it, and said:

'The wisest men in the world have but one opinion, and it is this.  We know that Adam gave names to all the flowers created, and as this flower has remained unnamed since the days of Eden, it is doubtless one which was forgotten at the Creation, and the Lord has only just remembered to make it.  But as it was never named by Adam, it has no name now; therefore, the wise men have destroyed it--for how can anything be without a name?'

'I'm sure I couldn't say,' said the Keeper.  'I expect you're right.' And the next time he met the Cottager he said, 'That there flower of yours hadn't any name at all.'

'What flower?' said the Cottager, who had a short memory.  The Keeper reminded him of the flower, adding that the wise men had destroyed it.

'Well, no harm's done,' said the Cottager; and that night at supper he said to his little daughter:

'Seemingly your flower had no name of its own after all.'

'But where _is_ my flower?' asked Christie.

'The wise men destroyed it,' said the Cottager.  No more was said, and from that day no one except Christie remembered that such a flower had ever been.

But all her life, and when she was quite an old woman, Christie would sometimes say to herself and others:

'When I was a child I found such a pretty flower.'

And when they asked her what flower it was, she smiled and answered, 'Only our Lord could tell you; it hadn't got a name.'

#Eleanor Farjeon #the flower without a name #the little bookroom #nonbinary thoughts #langague is the house of being

[agentlemansavage]

A Letter to you.

When you came into my life, I was caught off guard. Honestly, I don't think anyone could ever be fully ready for someone like you. I had pretty much given up on finding love and was okay with being on my own. But meeting you flipped my world upside down.

We had talked several times before but every time something about you stuck with me I can't really put my finger on it but every time for the short times we did talk I was captivated. We clicked on so many different levels and for one reason or another we always had to stop, until this last time where we actually really got to spend some time together and as it turned out you embodied everything I had ceased searching for; your radiant beauty, your infectious laughter, the way you effortlessly blend elegance with your nerdy, dorky charm. Hell even the passion you showed with your job and the things you worked towards in life. You are lightning in a bottle, showing me things I didn't even know I wanted and before I knew it I was in love. How could I not be?

From the beginning, you told me you wanted us to start out as friends, and I really did want that too, buti didn't know how we could accomplish that with how we were already feeling about each other. The best choice was for us to place everything on pause and give you space but neither of us wanted that. I wish I had heard you and listened and chosen to give you that space to work on yourself like you needed. Maybe then, I would have realized the things I needed to work on as well. Instead, I ignored everything, thinking that you were okay with this, and charged headfirst into us. I believed we could work on ourselves while also embracing the feelings we shared for each other. I have this habit of romanticizing everything and that belief I think accounts for alot of how I think and what I belive. It makes me very irrational, I never would have thought the romantic in me would be an issue.

It didn't take long for our messages to become full blown converstations. Ones admittedly I never wanted to end, and really thats when I first noticed the changes in me. I was happy, for the first time in what felt like years this woman who i barely knew was making me smile like an idiot all day. For context here I'm a man who gets bored of people after 2 or 3 converstations. I knew i was in deep when i started making you a playlist But as I've admitted, I wasn't ready. We were both navigating our own healing, and the presence of each other offered a sanctuary from our individual struggles. In the comfort you provided, I was able to ignore my demons and It wasn't fair to either of us for me to rely on you the way that I did. I don't want to sit here and make excuses for my actions, there were many many things I was unaware I was doing wrong. Alot of this breaks down to poor communication and I'm sorry that I failed to understand you and didn't talk about the things we needed to talk about.

Flying out to see you was perhaps the second biggest mistake. I packed a coloring book and I went shopping for new clothes; Hell I even made sure you picked out my new shoes, and made sure to bring a suit just incase we wanted to be fancy and have dinner somewhere. Admittedly I didnt know what to expect, I was just so excited for this to be something and I wanted so badly to impress you so much so i got my favorite recipe with my mom to cook with you. We had made plans once before that fell apart and it had been a few months of us talking. I know it was inconvient with work and I thought that was the biggest concern with me coming down. I didn't realize the weight of what you were dealing with. I forced you into situations you weren't ready for emotionally and physically. There isn't words to tell you how sorry I am. I want you to know It all came from a good intentioned place, I know you enjoyed parts of that weekend as well and the memories we made like dancing to Sinatra in the kitchen or making up lives for people we watched in the penthhouse will stay with me forever. You have said you don't regret it however just know that If I could start over and do it differently I would have given you more time and space to be ready.

In the six months we spent together, time had seemed to bend in unexpected ways, flipping between fast-forward and slow-motion. It's kinda crazy how it's shown me so much about myself and what we had, making everything seem super intense yet over too quick. You encouraged me to be better and i tried to do the same, setting bedtimes, encouraging eachother to go back to therapy, trying to set a workout schedule. It's been a mix of really good stuff and some tough lessons, especially about facing up to my own actions. Yet, as I've witnessed you drifting away, the weight of my earlier mistakes has become painfully clear. It's tough to see the distance my actions have caused between us, and I deeply regret not taking the steps sooner to address the issues on my end. In our time apart, I've been focusing on self-improvement, doing the work I should have started from the beginning, fully aware that actions speak louder than words, and wishing I had realized this sooner. I still miss you, I miss watching our shows, our little stardew valley home and i even miss overwatch hell i play it just because i miss you, i miss my friends telling me to say hi to you because they knew i was talking to you on the phone, i miss what we had, but mostly i just miss talking to you and hearing your voice. I miss my best friend, and I'd do almost anything to get her back.

They say timings a bitch, In our case it has never really been on our side. Despite everything, I i still believe in the potential of us and our real life fairytale disney type of love story in case your wondering this is the part of the book where everything comes crashing down. Like every good story things have to get bad before they can become better; I know things between us are strained right now but I remain hopeful that, in time, you’ll heal and possibly give us another chance, even if just as friends. But if not, I want you to know how grateful I am for every moment you’ve been part of my life. Thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart.

You’ve taught me a lot, about love, about fighting through tough times, and about myself. You made me better in almost everywhere. I apologize for my part in making everything so difficult, I promise you to do better in the future. No matter what happens next, you’ve got this special place in my heart. I love you, and more than anything, I want you to find happiness, even if it turns out I’m not the one to share that with you. You deserve that.

With all my heart and hope for our future,

Ryan

#Spotify

[skysaidso]

Good Motherf*cking Grief

“The past only has as much power as you give it”.  

When I first heard this statement after a year I often joked “you couldn’t pay me to relive” — I thought, “wow, how powerful”. 

It’s not surprising. Some would call me the “queen of amnesia”. Since my teenage dirtbag days —  I’ve cherry picked what memories I wanted to remember and claim for myself out of a turbulent adolescence. 

But in adulthood, cherry-picking has become harder. Starting over, even more so. 

The more I thought about this statement, the less I identified. 

It’s not false. The past only holds as much weight as you are willing to carry for it. But what we’ve gone through, who we once were, can’t just be cut from us. 

It’s actually quite entitled to think that we can break loose from it with no repercussions, no reprimanding, no ridicule. Choosing to flea from it just makes for a thick f*cking skull. 

Forcing ourselves to be a poor student to the same lesson over and over. 

The past may not tether, but it sure does cling. 

vol 1. lilac

Right before spring sprung — my maternal grandmother passed away. I had lost people before, but not to this magnitude.

This was the biggest grief of my life. 

Most of my childhood was spent between her and my paternal grandmothers home. She was an integral part of every holiday, birthday, life-achievement. She was apart of me.

She was sick for months prior and I thought I had braced myself, but this was a hurt I couldn’t prepare for. 

I would call it “the sharpest knife in the deepest wound” — but the analogy doesn’t compare. 

My grandmother was everything I felt I was incapable of being. Everything I wanted to be, but knew I wasn’t designed for. She was soft, delicate, empathetic, gracious, maternal, unquestionably God-fearing. I aspired to be like her, but I was still rounding out my edges. 

I didn’t really process her death. Not when it happened at least. 

There was no doubt sadness was present. But after her burial, I was met with a new emotion — numbness. I felt a hollowness. An emptiness. I had a new void. And I didn’t know how and if I would ever fill it. 

Who would ever be that proud of me again? 

After a month in Detroit, I went back to NYC. I tried my best to console my mother. I did everything in my power. 

But grief is irreconcilable. It might be the only emotion that is. 

If you’re depressed, you can slowly step your way back into joy. 

If you’re angry, you can find ways to tame the fury. 

If you’re betrayed, you can dig to forgive. 

But for grief —  there’s nothing. 

Nothing hurt more than knowing not a thing I said or did was going to bring her mother back. 

Life didn’t stop either. 

You go back to work. Mother’s Day comes. Then it goes. You see something, it reminds you of her. You smile. You go on about your day. 

I’ve never seen more lilacs in my life than I did this spring. Her favorite color. The pessimist in me says I was searching for it, but deep down I know that was her way of telling me she never really left. 

I pushed down my grief. Enough to continue to live my life. For months. So I had thought. I chose to remember happier times with her. Simpler ones. 

Until one random day in November. I woke up in a panic, tears flooding my face. I cried so hard and for so long my vision was blurry most of the day. 

I could no longer fight the fact that the person who made up the fabric of who I was — wasn’t here. 

You can’t make peace with it. You can’t make peace with the fact that you didn’t call enough. You didn’t actually read the birthday cards. You didn’t cherish the time while you had it. The cowardice of the fact that in their final moments — you weren’t there.

I found myself crying, balling. Full of rage at myself. And full of rage at God for taking her in such a painful, merciless way — cancer. 

What God batters an angel?

A few months later, I would find faith again. 

vol 2. for (love)rs

From the top of winter to the peak of summer, I was in and out of connections that were no good for me. 

I was unstable, toying with a real alcohol problem, and dealing with a case of serious insomnia that was starting to deteriorate me —  I had no business having a love life.

Looking back, I have to give myself some credit for the strategy of it all. I picked men who were caring, gentle, and who had one hell of a listening ear. I hoped they would see what was going on with me, and choose to help me. Fix me.

Problem was, once we got past a few dates and my beautiful facade, they saw the ugly reality of who I was in the dark. An emotionally explosive lush with a bad smoking habit, and a deep need to be validated. 

To my surprise, they wanted no parts of it. 

I held so much animosity towards my past lovers for this. For making the choice to leave me where they found me. Even though I had given so much of myself to them. 

I had painted all of them as the villain, but they were just human, with intense character flaws, like me, who were looking out for themselves. 

I could spend my time waiting on apologies I was entitled enough to think we’re owed to me, or I could spend my time making peace accepting I was wronged, and I was no saint either. 

That’s the thing about remembering the past. Recounting. Ruminating. Going over every world that you said, that he said. It requires you to own your part. To come to the conclusion that your version of the story is just that  —  a version of a story. 

I wasn’t strong enough. To meet face to face with the fact I held equal parts in my suffering — as any lover, any friend, as any job, as any addiction. 

I long convinced myself that my world was crumbling apart, I just didn’t know I had the jackhammer in my hand. 

vol 3. caffeinated 

Fall is historically my favorite time of the year. All the leaves die, but it’s pretty. It’s my personal dark-twisted fantasy. 

This fall was different. 

I had moved, once again. Now I was in Brooklyn, starting over. Again. 

At this point, I had experienced more loss; family members, friends, and drowning in the guilt of returning to a city I had no family in while my father had surgery after surgery.

I was also burnt out. I was running in circles career wise and it was slowly starting to chip. 

A friend of mine I had met a few months ago reached out, asking me to go for a coffee downtown.  

I had mustered up all the energy I had for this meet-up. I hadn’t slept in weeks and it was obvious. I couldn’t think straight. Let alone hold a conversation. 

I didn’t want a coffee either —  I would’ve preferred happy hour. 

As I rambled about the past few months and my ambitions for the future she outright asked me, “are you trying to forget everything that happened to you?!”

Talk about epiphany.

I spent the better part of a year trying to forget what “happened to me”. Trying to separate myself from the lessons, the molding, the battering, the beating, the alchemy that is being a person who has lived, and who is living, and who is learning how to be better. 

So called “healing” isn’t amnesia. It’s living. In spite of it all. 

Choosing to forget was easy. 

I was embarrassed. Everything I had gone through? It was on me. Everything bad thing, every misfortune, every traumatic event. It showed up in every room before I did. 

I’ve learned that people can feel your personal shattering — but your people won’t be repelled by it. They’ll get on the floor and pick up the peices with you.

I wasted a lot of time trying to forget things in my mind that my heart will never allow me to. What a shame. Luckily, now I’m grateful for it. 

[thearchivistsjournal]

Scattered Pages: Day 512,

I don’t think I was asleep for an hour before I woke back up again.  My memory of what happened is hazy.  No, not hazy, for the parts that I can remember are incredibly clear.  More like disjointed.  Vivid moments with gaps in between.  That said, most of what I’m about to recount comes from what Lin and Maiko told me this morning. 

We’d given up on waiting for the eclipse and gone to bed, me in my room and the other two in the bed we finally got in the spare room last season and then never really used.  As it turns out, Lin had stayed up a little bit later writing a letter to me, so she wasn’t fully asleep yet when she heard me leaving the house.  And then her getting up to investigate woke Maiko. 

They found me outside the back door of the house, halfway to the edge of the woods beneath the red eclipse, wearing the fur mantle that (as far as they knew) I hadn’t donned since the day they found me wrapped in it on Siren Overlook and not much else.  The nature sprite was waiting for me at the treeline.  This was the first time Lin had ever seen it.  They watched as I calmly walked over to the sprite and took its proffered hand.  They were expecting another dance like I’d engaged in during the last eclipse, only to be caught off guard when the sprite and I took off into the woods, laughing together as we bounded away.

Both of them immediately gave chase, although Lin was quickly outpaced and left behind in the jungle underbrush.  The other sprites were out in force, glowing eyes all around and making their usual cacophony.  Doubtless they found the entire spectacle terribly amusing.

Writing that now, I just had a terrible thought.  I sincerely hope that neither Lin nor Maiko were found entertaining enough to haunt.  As… complicated… as my relationship to “my” sprite is, I can’t say I would wish it on anyone else.  And the fact that it would be because they were trying to help me

We had reached and crossed the road, my sprite and I, and were about to pass into the inner forest on the other side when the sound of Maiko calling my name caused me to stop and turn to see her emerging from the outer forest behind us.  

Lin’s scream caused me to let go of my sprite’s hand.

As Maiko and I ran back to her, it dimly registered in some semi-coherent part of my mind still running on instincts and nameless rhythms that the scream had been one of anger more than fear.  As we got closer the noise of the gathered sprites grew louder until the groan of a bent tree abruptly cut out all other sounds.  We found Lin looking down at the ground with a large stick at her feet and the Wandering God standing over her.  Trying to hold Maiko back from running in and trying I-don’t-even-know-what is one of the memories from the night that I can most clearly recall.

Later we learned that Lin had been swinging the stick at sprites that revealed themselves to her and got between her and us.  That was the scream we heard.

After far too long of us all holding in tense, still, silence the Wandering God departed with the eclipse and the rising sun.  A rising sun that was soon filtered through grey clouds.  The true mists began to rise then, forcing us to hold back the night’s pent up emotions until we returned to the house.

And when those pent up emotions were released…  No, I don’t think I can bring myself to recount it all in detail so soon.  I’m not even sure I should.

There was… a lot.  Talking, and crying, and holding one another.  Getting things out.  Working through things.  And for once, it really was talking.  Actually communicating everything with someone else instead of attempting to excise it by myself in this journal or exchanging letters with Lin about things we couldn’t normally bring ourselves to say to anyone else aloud; it hit in a way that - for all the talking we did, all the writing I’ve done - I can’t find the words to do it justice.  Not now anyway.  

All this was eventually interrupted by Vernon and Cass showing up.  Lin’s distress had resonated through the bracelets and woken them up.  Not that we (well, I and I’m presuming the same for Lin and Maiko) weren’t glad to see them or feel like we can’t share things with them, but when you’re having a moment and someone shows up unexpectedly it does rather disrupt the flow of things.

We (mostly Lin) explained what happened and that, while it was understandably concerning, all three of us came out of it safe and sound.  I dare say that sounds far more convincing coming from three people in agreement than my usual insisting that I’m fine after something I’m probably not actually fine in the wake of.  Ultimately, Cass and Vernon stayed as long as they dared before the mists got too thick to safely make the trip back to the Village.  Or in Cass’s case, to her family’s house.  She said something along the lines of her parents being likely to appreciate the rainy-season visit with market day having been thrown off by both eclipse and mist.  I’m not sure she would have done that a year ago.

Lin and Maiko stayed though.  They wanted to make sure that I’d be okay if there was any kind of interaction between what happened last night and tonight’s dreaming.  My reflex was to try to reassure them that there wouldn’t be, but I managed to stop myself.  The truth is, we really don’t understand any of it.  We’re faced with possibly unanswerable unknowns and working through them the best we can.  I’m glad not to be alone for it.

We never got back to quite that same level of openly spilling our hearts out to one another, but the ripple of it, a sort of quiet intimacy, persisted the rest of the day.  It was nice.

Maybe it will keep me safe in my dreams too.

#writing #original fiction #serial fiction #sliceoflife #Writeblr #daily writing #epistolary novel #writers on tumblr #WIP #creative writing #literature #prose #writers #web novel #novel #journal #isekai #epistolary #fantasy #slice of life #fiction #my writing #epilogue #Scattered Pages

[matt0044]

Pokemon Heroes: The Black & White Chapter One by matt0044

Chapter 5: Little White (& Blue) Lies

Helga smiled back.

"I know, I know," Hilda sighed wearily, holding up her hands in defense. "I haven't exactly been around lately but getting the written test down was a pain and a half." She whistled from just remembering how she nearly cramped her hand.

Helga smiled back.

"Oooo, should've led with that," Hilda swore lightly with a chuckle. "Guess who not only became a Trainer but also had their first official battle yesterday?" She pause for dramatic effect. "Here's a hint: her name rhymes with Gilda."

Helga smiled back. Hilda swallowed a bit dryly.

"And I know it was getting ahead of myself but I just had to take on Auntie Aurea," she insisted with a bit more pep. "You don't just get adopted by Unova's lead researchers in Pokemon and not challenge at least one of them." Her smile simmered down despite her best efforts. "Don't worry, I'll wear down Grandpa Cedric eventually."

Helga smiled back.

"You would've loved it," Hilda replied more softly. "Auntie Aurea delivered when she promised she wouldn't hold back." She did well to keep up her energy. "Not with Minnie on her side at least."

Helga smiled back while Hilda rambled on about her battle, playing up how epic it had been in areas. Behind her, all six of her woodland companions and her Starter Pokemon respectfully kept to themselves in silence. They knew that Hilda's mother couldn't speak back but none of that matters at the moment.

At last, Oshawott broke his silence in what he hoped was a low enough voice. [How long has she been... gone?] he asked, too curious not to know.

[Touch over seven years,] Watcher replied softly. [She and her Ma were ridin' on Route 1 to settle on in Nuvema when... something bad.] He sighed deeply remembering the day. [Harry n' I heard the crash from far off... before the explosion.]

Oshawott felt his heart sink at the thought of it. He glanced over to find that Lilly and Patrick hung their heads with a few tears themselves.

[We often ran towards danger and thought it was just another adventure for us,] Harry carried on somberly, traveling down the rocky memory lane. [It was... but not what we expected.] He could see Hilda up ahead really getting into talking to her mother, feeling mixed at best.

[A terrified li'l girl rushed on by like a Gigalith was on her heels,] Watcher continued, remember the look in Hilda's distraught eyes. [Poor thing was lost, alone and plum fit t' burst with tears.] Some of it was still in those blue eyes today. [Couldn' bring ourselves to leave 'er high n' dry suffice to say.]

Oshawott looked back at Hilda and found her exuberance a far cry from what they were telling her. An bundle of unbridled joy like her? Brought to tears? Yet it wasn't something alien to himself.

[It must've been so awful,] Oshawott whispered in sympathy.

[Not all of it,] Harry replied, starting to perk up a tad. [The adults were suspicious of her powers but Watcher and I helped her survive in the wild.] He snickered ever so slightly. [We did try to get her to town but... well...]

[Let's jus' say we hadn' quite sussed out left from right at that age,] Watcher chortled with a bashful blush. [Humans could write them book all 'bout our li'l capers.]

[Mom had to pick up the slack from what she told us,] Sue chimed in, having listened up until now.

[She even dressed Hilda up when her clothes started to stink,] Addle giggled, only going off of imagination.

[Made for some darn good camo,] Watcher admitted. [Took a while to figure out human sizes tho'.]

[Speaking o' Ma,] Patrick whispered to Oshawott with a giggle. [I heard mine blew a gasket when Watcher "brought home a stray."]

Oshawott could imagine more than a few of these misadventures with what he knew of Hilda as it was. He couldn't help but smile for what it was worth.

[It was worth it to see her in high spirits back then,] Harry confessed before his smile fell slightly. [I mean... while it lasted...]

Oshawott dropped his smile, sensing the pin's inevitable drop. [What could've happened next?]

[We foun' the Professor after what seemed like two weeks or so,] Watcher began wearily. [At first, Hilda and her were over the moon to finally meet until... Aurea broke the news.] He took a moment to sigh over the sobering memory.

[Hilda told us all sorts about her mother when it was just us three,] Harry added, trying to keep it together. [She had the biggest grin whenever she hyped her up as this Champion who could do just about everything.] He could only sigh what came next. [She swore her mom was coming for her.]

Oshawott could hear his sorrow reflected in Patrick and Lilly's whimpers behind him. Even Sue and Addle returned to their solemn mourning. All for somebody they'd never met yet somehow knew. The Sea Otter Pokemon grew curious about this until...

"Oshawott, over here!" Hilda called all of a sudden. "Come say hello!"

Oshawott was pulled out of his sadness with this surprise and just stood there stunned for a few seconds. "Oh... coming!" he called out before hurrying forward as fast as he could.

Behind him, Hilda's friends exchanged glances in their own curiosity. They knew she tended to talk to her mother one-on-one and rarely invited them unless they asked first.

Oshawott came along Hilda's left side and stopped about three feet or so from the enshrined tree. He got a closer look at the picture of Helga and found the kindness in her smile not too far off from his Trainer's. The Sea Otter Pokemon even felt a bit of warmth in his heart just look at it, especially when it was surrounded by such lovely flowers. Now the resemblance truly was unmistakable.

"Here he is, Mom," Hilda began happily, kneeling down to Oshawott's level. "The best Starter a girl could ask for." She gave an encouraging pat on his back.

[Um... hello...] Oshawott meekly greeted with a bow. [Helga, was it?] It was his first time paying respects to the departed so he could only hope he was doing right by his Trainer. [I've heard great things about you.]

Oshawott looked at Helga's picture and somehow could imagine her picking him up for a hug herself. It was enough to get him to push his anxiousness to the side with a deep breath and put on his best smile.

[Your daughter has been nothing but wonderful for me,] Oshawott carried on happily, trying his best to sound as bold as Hilda could. [I intend to return the favor by doing right by her.] He even put his paws to his hips to look tall and proud. [Within a month, Hilda will be a Champion just like you if not in a week with me.]

Hilda felt touched and endeared by Oshawott's vows before taking her turn to speak again. "You would have loved him to bits," she told her mother in a softer tone of voice. "It's only been less than a day yet it feels like we've been friends for ages."

Oshawott peered upwards upon hearing Hilda so unusually vulnerable. He could make out some faint tears in her eyes and didn't feel like grandstanding too much now.

"This might be the last time I speak to you for a while now," Hilda carried on to her mother, her smile slightly fading. "Next time... it'll be as Unova's Champion." She wiped her tears however dry she could. "That's a promise."

The atmosphere around them was dead silent with only a slight breeze rustling the leaves above them ever so gently. Watcher, Harry, Lilly, Patrick, Sue and Addle stayed respectfully at a distance. Hilda and Oshawott gave their thoughts to Helga's spirit in this moment of silence. Right up until the moment a stomach groaned out like a beached Wailmer.

Oshawott went red in face with an embarrassed wail. [Oh my...] he gasped, feeling his belly aching for breakfast. [I-I didn't mean to...]

However, it was soon Hilda's turn to blush furiously when her stomach growled even louder. Loud enough for her friends to jump and dart around, looking for the Stoutland muscling in on their turf.

"Can't make good on our word without a proper breakfast, huh?" Hilda sheepishly chuckled, sharing a wry smile with Oshawott.

[The thought had crossed my mind,] the Sea Otter Pokemon claimed, his sentiments exact. He couldn't help but glance back up at Helga and remember Hilda vowing to become Champion in her honor.

Oshawott swallowed hard and remembered his own vow. [Me and my big mouth...] he whimpered anxiously, knowing he would break his promise one way or another.

All the while, Hilda was too busy taking out her Personal Computer and aimed the camera to square in on the grass just in front of her friends. She went into her Inventory to select multiple items for a massive materialization, eager to make a big surprise.

"Soup's on, everybody," Hilda gleefully declared before tapping "Select."

------

Uptown Nuvema found itself in a surprisingly tepid atmosphere overall. The news of Hilda making Trainer had spread but for most, it just felt like any other day. People walked up and down the sidewalk to their favorite shops but many still expected something to at least explode like yesterday. Not that Sean or Chris were complaining.

Damien and Linda Aryes were in the middle of the street when the screeching of tires nearly overloaded their heading aids. They winced just in time for a black van to swing around the corner and just barely miss them. Damien held onto his toupee while he and his wife saw the vehicle barrel down the road like it was Skyarrow Bridge.

"Cedric..." was the only thing that the couple could sigh, nodding to themselves. Everyone else around them knew only one family in town had that reckless style of driving.

------

"So we run like mad the second we realized," Cedric Juniper happily rambled on, listening to the GPS's dubious directions. "I would've thrown out my back if not for the adrenaline, let me tell you." He laughed while turning left so sharply that the van borderline tilted.

"By the time we got there, what did we find?" Cedric asked rhetorically while the vehicle bounced back onto the road. "Little Hilda playing on that grump of Haxorus like she was on a Jungle Gym." He sighed heartily over such a prized memory while narrowly squeezing through a yellow light. "Turns out the big girl was an empty nester and that our girl's company just what the doctor ordered."

Bright Alans groaned from the gut right behind Cedric. "I'm gonna need a doctor if you don't slow down," he bellyached, grabbing his unkempt brown hair.

"Aim out the window, green gills," Vanessa Alexanders abrasively warned, kicking Bright's seat from behind. "This suits are way over our pay grade." Truthfully, she felt like the G-force was about to make her pass out but wouldn't let it show.

"Ah, buck up, youngsters," Cedric chortled, earning an irate horn-honking and his third "Watch where yo' goin', ya fool!" today. "If you think I'm a demon with wheels, you should see my daughter."

"What my associate mean to say," Bianca Whitley chimed in, trying to sound as cordial as she could, "is that this may reflect poorly on this inspection." The blonde did her utmost to lean away from the ghastly looking Bright to her left.

"Huh," Cedric said thoughtfully. "Put it like that..."

Almost immediately, the car went from drag racing to crawling like slow molasses. It was so smooth that none of the inspectors even registered their change in speed until the color returned to Bright's face. Nonetheless, they collectively sigh in the utmost relief.

"Now where was I?" Cedric pondered, trying to remember his story. "I told you how we thought Hilda had been swallowed alive by that Haxorus, right?"

"Yes," Cheren Blake sighed, readjusting his glasses after the wild ride, "and the one where Hilda allegedly rode on a Zebstrika threw town." He made sure that his fellow suits could see sunlight glint off of his specs twice.

"Well, only because the racer was so hard on the poor thing," Cedric reminded the inspector. "Call her reckless but that fire cracker of mine doesn't take injustice lying down."

"I wouldn't exactly call that a good thing," Cheren chided with an almost knowing tone, bringing up papers to write on. "As her guardian, safety should be priority number one."

"Ha!" Cedric laughed. "You sound just like my daughter."

While Cheren kept the Professor talking, Bianca cautiously reached underneath her blonde bang and turned on an com in her right ear. Her expression became less soft and more serious as she focused on keeping her voice discrete. Bright and Vanessa shared the same look next to her.

"How's the set-up looking, Simon?" Bianca asked, making sure Cedric didn't so much as glance back.

"The Warden didn't notice our modifications if that's what you mean," Simon Allison replied over the com-link. "Just a couple of kid geniuses working on a summer science project."

"You'll have plenty of time at this rate," Vanessa added, seeing a Youngster on bicycle ride by.

"Good!" Sammy Allison groaned loudly, making her colleagues wince deeply. "Some of us need rest after recalibrating the coding alone last night!"

"Did you... hear something just now?" Cedric asked innocuously.

"Hey!" Cheren chimed in, trying way too hard to change the subject. "About those baby pictures..." He took a second to look back at his colleagues and made a fearful looking cut-throat gesture for them.

"Just set your alarm for one sharp," Bianca quietly yet anxiously insisted. "Remember that this isn't a standard hit-and-run." She swallowed in her attempt to sound at least somewhat commanding. "You can be sure his Majesty will take interest in our first full scaled operation."

------

Watcher nearly spat out his red cabbage when he couldn't keep his laughing fit at bay. [Still fallin' for her poor li'l meow meow act, are ya?] he snidely sniggered.

[In my defense, Purrloin really did get pecked by those Tranquill,] Harry barked back in protest, still chewing on a store-bought bone.

[Only 'cause she tried helpin' herself to their gatherings,] Watcher retorted. [Without permission obviously.]

[Excuse me for looking out for my fellow Pokemon,] Harry defensively claimed, [...that leave me to face the whole angry flock.]

"Well, I think you were kind to not just turn away," Hilda warmly promised while scratching her furry friend behind the ear. "Just be more skeptical with that darn cat."

She let her bare legs sprawl across the pink picnic blanket with her vest, hat and shoes stored in her P.C. "And hey, if she crashed the party and you know she can't resist, I'll help you pay her out." Hilda helped herself to some more Buttered and French Toast that she let Harry take a big bite out of.

Eating his second bread-stick, Oshawott sat to his Trainer far left while seeing her yuck it up with Watcher and Harry. All of Hilda's friends had spread across the picnic blanket once it had appeared. Particularly when a whole host of food that she'd been saving up for this occasion came with it. However, the Sea Otter Pokemon quickly felt awkward when they paired off to enjoy all the new food and chat it up amongst themselves.

Not that Oshawott fully minded. He didn't know how to chip the ice let alone break it. In any event, it was rather interesting to really see this side of Hilda. How she just vibed with the Pokemon in the forest not as their Trainer but as their friend. His eyes also drifted to Sue and Addle just to Watcher's left. They were munching down on rare leaves that Hilda got from Cedric on his research travels.

[Pidove's really missing out,] Sue claimed cheerfully with her mouth full of leaves saved from autumn. [Don't tell me he forgot today was the day.]

[Cut him some slack,] Addle replied with a bit of spittle spewing. [He's all the way up north.] She crunched down on some cold winter leaves. [Way too easy to get turned around after a while.]

[Man, he promised that we'd see if our string could beat his wings,] Sue whined, pouting even while scarfing down some chopped lettuce. [Feathery flaker...]

[Ah, you know we'd leave him in the dust,] Addle claimed, trying to soothe her sister's feelings. [Momma didn't raise no heart-breaker.]

Oshawott sipped from his milk carton while enjoying their rowdy banter. Wild Pokemon were such a fascinating far cry from the Pokemon that he'd met in the laboratory. They had no humans to bustle them around in a single building and could practically do what they wanted. The air also smelled consistently fresh compared to how regulated the temperature the laboratory could be.

Oshawott smiled in his growing peace and contentment when a gentle breeze blew his way. The whole forest around him felt so free. Free from bullies like Snivy or expectations from any Trainer whatsoever. The Sea Otter Pokemon could see why Hilda considered this a second home. He wouldn't have minded living here with her.

[You really do smell nice,] Lilly spoke up. [A bit too nice.]

Oshawott nearly spilled his milk when he jumped and turned around to find the Lillipup sniffing him all over. Her eyes were closed to focus her nose in on the Sea Otter Pokemon alone. He could see her furry face was caked with the masked potatoes she'd been previously going to town on.

[Can I... help you?] Oshawott ventured forth awkwardly.

[Don' mind her none,] Patrick assured, coming up from the right while gorging on a large cucumber. [Harry's been teachin' her to sus out distinct scents.]

[I've never smelled a Pokemon from the lab before,] Lilly discerned with excited curiosity. [Your scent's so... clean.] She started licking Oshawott's furry belly much to his embarrassment. [Taste's clean too.]

[I hope I do,] the Sea Otter Pokemon claimed backing away a bit from whatever Lilly was doing. [Minnie was prudent about getting behind the ears.] He made a little chuckle if only to seem less of a dork.

"Lilly," Hilda called out sternly from just behind Oshawott. "Try to take it easy on him."

[We talked about personal space,] Harry chimed in firmly, playing the junior parent on the fly.

[Sorry...] Lilly whimpered with slight pout.

[It's fine, really,] Oshawott hastily promised, not wanting to seem like a bother. [Inquiring minds want to know.]

[Well, we wanna know what's it like in a lab,] Sue chimed in, waddling over while snacking on two leaves. [Hilda barely tells us squat.]

[Is it true they prob your butt for cavities?] Addle asked without a shred of irony. [That's gotta hurt.]

Oshawott cocked his head in confusion while Watcher and Harry nearly double over in laughter. Hilda goes red in the face and tried to look the other way, audibly slurping up her soda. She knew she should've kept the suppository incident to herself.

[I don't know about my butt...] Oshawott earnestly answered, the absurdity lost on him, [but we do get medical check-ups just about every weekend.] He did gulp at a particularly unpleasant memory while eating more of his breadstick. [They're good for keeping us healthy but... I don't care much for shots.]

"Wow, we really were made for each other," Hilda chortled, scooching up the blanket. "We can take them together if it helps." She picked up Oshawott to let her sit between her legs and saw him smile more in comfort.

[I would like that,] Oshawott replied with a bit less stiffness.

[No Pokemon in the wild get shots or some quack to keep us right as rain,] Watcher questioned in an annoyed tone of voice. [All we need's fresh air and fresher berries out here unlike a certain squirt here.] Secretly, he was annoyed that Oshawott stole Hilda away from him but he wasn't about to own up to it.

[We get berries there,] the Sea Otter Pokemon replied defensively. [Well... they baked into those brown bits.] He realized that he was fumbling the ball way too fast. [The Professor's a real stickler for our diets.]

[Oh boy,] Sue muttered mischievously to her sister.

[Here comes trouble,] Addle replied in agreement, eager for sparks to fly.

"Alright, Mr. Au-Naturale," his best friend snarked back, hoping to humble her stubborn friend. "That'll save me money on Potions at least." She didn't notice Oshawott's more concerned expression below here shifting to a slight frown.

[Well... glad to lend a paw,] Watcher pouted in trying to get the last cry in, folding his arm.

[Don' mind him none,] Patrick encouraged Oshawott in a low voice. [My brother don't care too much for Trainers.] He couldn't help but slightly blush in embarrassment. [I wanna know more if yer willin'.]

[Yeyeyeyeyeah,] Lilly chimed in hyper-actively. [Hilda says you get to roam around freely in the laboratory.] She hurried up to Oshawott with her tail-wagging, making him step back out of unease. [How good are you at tag? Huhuhuhuhuh?]

Oshawott felt better when Harry lifted his little sister away by the scruff on her neck. [Miss Aurea wouldn't allow Starters without a human to keep an eye on us,] he admitted sheepishly. [She especially had us avoid any evolved Pokemon in the halls.]

"And for good reason," Hilda laughed with exasperation. "The Simi trio there get really intense about Dodge Ball." Her tone of voice sounded way too embarrassed. "Don't even get me started on hide and seek with the Amoongus."

[I'd often race with Snivy and Tepig when our speed and response times were tested,] Oshawott carried on. [We'd even do freeze tag to see how quickly we can stop on command or on our own.] He omitted details such as Snivy tripping him so he wouldn't "push his limits" or her also utilizing Vine Whip to tag him very forcefully.

[Didn' ya even tussle once?] Watcher exclaimed in disgruntlement, crawling across the food to Hilda's right. [Yeesh, trust humans to be coddling.] He rudely grabbed a breadstick to eat with his mouth open.

"Weird because I remember a Patrat needing a little girl to pry him out of a log," Hilda sassed back. "Whined for an hour until she got his big butt out of there." She even stuck out her tongue like she was seven years old again.

Watcher went red in the face while their friends let out a collective, "Oooooooooooo," over the shade of it all. Oshawott giggled a little but tried not to poke the Beartic going by the Lookout Pokemon's growing frown.

[Mah point's yer li'l lab rat wouldn' cut it in these here parts,] Watcher retorted, starting to get more than a little heated about this. [Ain't no human's gonna hold yer paw when a Galvantula's tries to make brunch outta ya.] He aimed his glare down at Oshawott a bit more directly. [One zap and you'd cry home for yer Professor, assumin' you last that long.]

"Watch your step, Wa-" Hilda was about to say, her own glare growing over the professor bit. She found herself interrupted when she felt Oshawott jumping over her leg and looked down. There was the Sea Otter Pokemon with his own frown while marching up towards Watcher.

[It's funny you should mention Galvantula,] Oshawott began firmly, standing up straight to assert himself. [Professor Juniper had us battle at a type-disadvantage just last week and put me up against a Joltik.] The Sea Otter Pokemon knew that he had to make sure that he didn't look weak in front of Hilda but also wanted to stick up for Tepig too.

[Oh, what?] Watcher spat while getting down on all fours, sneering Oshawott straight in the eye. [Ya stepped on him with yer flat foot, squirt?] His nose was an inch away from the Sea Otter Pokemon's firm frown.

"Guys, please..." Hilda muttered in concern. She knew Watcher could get too worked up in his opinionated state and feared Oshawott would get in over his head.

Glancing over, Hilda saw her other friends viewing the stand-off with concerned looks of their own. They were keeping their distance lest a spark set them ablaze. This was far from the going-away picnic she envisioned.

[I wouldn't say stepped so much as, let's say...] Oshawott began, his frown rising into a smirk, [...cut him down to size.] He swiped the Scalchop off of his belly and immediately formed his Shell Blade while whipping it out towards Watcher.

The Lookout Pokemon cried out in alarm and jumped back before the sword could cut him. Before Watcher knew it, he felt his left hind paw step on a vanilla cupcake and slip backwards. The Watchog fell flat on his back and felt two cream pies Hilda had brought out get into his fur beneath him.

Lilly and Patrick were the first to burst out laughing over such silly slapstick. Sue and Addle followed suit before Harry could hardly contain himself. Hilda didn't laugh but grinned over how Oshawott showed up Watcher all on his own.

The Sea Otter Pokemon in question found the laughter surprisingly welcome. Oshawott's confidence expression faltered for a second before rising back up when he realized that they were laughing with him, not at him. Suffice to say, he couldn't help but milk it.

[Just like that in fact,] Oshawott carried on, recounting his battle while Watcher was getting back up. [He talked a good fight but my quick draw made him lose composure.] He even twirled his Scalchop on his right paw to make himself look casual about it, retracting the blade for safety. [One Water Gun later and, well, this itsy bitsy Joltik wasn't going up the spout again anytime soon.]

The Sea Otter Pokemon had taken the liberty to omit the fact that this was on the seventh try in facing the least experienced Joltik. Even then, he had Aurea directing him to sharpen his reflexes.

[Wow, Oshawott,] Patrick exclaimed, coming up to the Starter's side. [That's some gumption right there.] His buttering-up earned him a light blush and a wry smile.

[I oughta try that fake-out in practice,] Sue chimed in, hyping up Oshawott.

[Not if I get you first, slowpoke,] Addle bantered back competitively.

[I wanna sword, Harry,] Lilly panted excited.

[Uh... maybe when you're a Stoutland?] Harry gulped uneasily, unsettled by the concept alone.

Hilda could easily tell that Oshawott embellished a few details but was keen to let him have this if only at Watcher's expense. Especially when the Lookout Pokemon was looking mighty peeved while trying to get all the pie crust and cream out of his fur.

[Well, ain't you the cream of the crop now?] Watcher snidely spoke up, licking his back with considerable flexibility. [Us wild ones don't got the luxury of choosing our battles, especially when food's on the line.] The pie was delicious for what it was worth but not enough to improve on his mood.

[Well, some of us here are more stubborn than others,] Harry sassed back at Watcher. He winced when he got a bit of pie flick in his face but couldn't complain.

[Ah had to rumble with ten Pokemon 'fore breakfast yesterday,] Watcher carried on, getting down on all fours once more. [Ya don't wanna get me started on brunch, boy.] He made a particular point of giving Oshawott a mean look from his right eye, hmmmming intensely.

[Only ten?] the Sea Otter Pokemon replied with a curious tone of voice, hardly looking fazed by Watcher. [For me, twenty's just a warm-up before breakfast.] The Watchog's incredulous reaction was priceless while held straightened his posture to talk the talk. [Sometime I hope for thirty to work up my appetite.]

[Oh what?] Watcher retorted, trying not to give ground this time. [More baby Joltik?]

[Oh, I moved onto Grass-types just last week,] Oshawott answered matter-of-factly, pretending to ponder. [A few Pansages, a touch of Petilil and even some Maractus.] He wasn't lying about having faced them but was exaggerating how many of them he managed to touch let alone defeat.

[Heh, but no Sewaddles I bet,] Sue whispered to Addle, exchanging devious looks with her sister.

[R-right...] Watcher retorted, trying not to look intimidated. [And I took on the Champion just last week.] Oshawott's nonchalant demeanor was started to make him figuratively sweat ever so slightly. The way everybody else was "Ooooo"ing and "Ah"ing made the Lookout Pokemon feel like old news.

[I bet he could take on your mom and live,] Lilly whispered to Patrick, her tag still wagging.

[Y'know he jus' might...] the Patrat considered.

"Come to think of it," Hilda began with a sly raise of her left eyebrow, "the Junipers said the most wins a Starter got before leaving was about two hundred." She exchanged a quick wink with her Starter to let her know that she was in on it. "Been meaning to ask what your record was, Oshawott."

[Hmmmm... I wanna say three hundred or... four hundred?] the Sea Otter Pokemon pondered, pretending to be deep in thought. [I could never count that high but I think heard four hundred and one from Mr. Cedric.] He threw in a smile and a casual shrug to make it seem like it was no big deal, earning a very indignant scoff from Watcher.

"Then that makes Minnie four hundred and two," Hilda gleefully praised, picking Oshawott up with both hands. "You and me are going places, kid." The Sea Otter Pokemon smiled when she hugged him upon her chest with both arms crossed.

[Ooo, ooo, ooo,] Lilly yipped, wagging her tail while jumping onto Hilda's thigh. [Can I be four-hundred and- and- um-] She pouted when her counting skills failed her. [Can I battle you next?]

[Hey, I wanna tussle first,] Patrick whined indignantly.

[Um... right now?] Oshawott asked with slight anxiousness and a subtle gulp. Not nearly subtle for Watcher to pick up on.

[Yeeeeeeah,] the Watchog declared with a bit of slyness while rising back up. [Y'all been flappin' yer gums about how much offa hot shot ya are, hot shot.] He leaned forth to give him the eye yet again. [Got the skills t' pay the bills, buddy-boy?]

"That's far enough, Watcher," Hilda firmly replied, shoving a pair of berries in the Watchog's mouth to shut him up. "Oshawott doesn't have to battle if he doesn't want to." She didn't appreciate her oldest friend feeling jealous but was more concerned about her Starter getting in over his head.

Oshawott squirmed and worried that the jig was up but tried to hide his fear. [No no, of course, I can pay the bills,] he replied hastily with a more assertive look in his eye and a raised right paw. He paused before looking back up at his Trainer with a more confused expression. [Hey, what are bills?]

"He's challenging you to a battle to see if you live up to the hype," Hilda clarified, casting an annoyed look at Watcher. "Personally, I'd rather if you saved your strength for the inspection."

[Inquirin' minds wanna know,] the Watchog taunted with a sneer after swallowing his impromptu snack. [I'm waitin', squirt.]

Oshawott did well to keep up his facade but couldn't push back the growing fear in his heart. Watcher caught him in the hole he dug himself into and was keen to bury him alive at a second's notice. The Sea Otter Pokemon was glad that Hilda was covering for him yet... didn't. Bad memories of Snivy came to mind at the notion of letting Watcher think he was all talk.

[Why do you get to go first?] Sue pouted with a whine.

[We called dibs... just now!] Addle added in a fussy tone of voice.

"What did I just say?" Hilda retorted sternly, shoving more leaves into each of their mouths. "This was suppose to be a relaxing picnic in the sun, not some tournament."

[Why not both?] Oshawott suggested with his devil-may-care grin. [I stuffed my face plenty so I got plenty of gas in the tank.] He slipped out of Hilda's hold and jumped down onto the picnic blanket like a high diver, standing up straight to look confident. [Whatever that means...]

"Well..." Hilda began before seeing how eager Oshawott's grin looked with his brows knit. "A warm-up before the inspector would help our odds." A grin of her own grew on her face at the thought of throwing down with her pals as a Trainer. "It wouldn't hurt to spice up this send-off just a pinch." She shared a nod of affirmation with Oshawott and started have a better feeling about this.

Lilly, Patrick, Sue and Addle erupted into cheers while Harry cast a suspicious eye at Watcher, having observed the Lookout Pokemon quietly. He trotted over to his oldest friend while Hilda was working out how the battles would play out and caught a look of his toothy sneer.

[Alright, what's the scheme this time?] Harry gruffly demanded from Watcher under his breath. [I've known those eyes for too long.]

[The squirt's lyin' like a rug and takin' Hilda for a fool,] the Watchog whispered back indignantly, bending back down onto all fours. [I'm doin' 'er a favor by exposin' him for the fraud he is.]

[So he's throwing his weight around?] Harry countered, recognizing jealously when he heard it. [You don't have to take out losing Hilda on him.]

Watcher scoffed at that last part, knowing that the Herdier was trying to get inside his head. [Watch me...] he vowed while rising up to give another glare at Oshawott hyping himself up to the little ones around him.

------

"As they say in Paldea," Cedric cheered while walking towards the entrance to his laboratory, "mi casa es su casa." He quickly got out his keys and locked the van up on the curb just behind them.

The four inspectors followed behind with Bright speaking for all of them with a bewildered whistle.

"That's no lab," he quipped. "It's a veritable space center."

Looking from the left to the right, the four of them found that the three story building's width alone promised multiple rooms dedicated to Pokemon 24/7. Some of them felt a tad anxious and exchanged expressions of such now that it really was go time. It felt like their assignment had just gotten more complicated.

"You guys did work out our exit strategy... right?" Vanessa whispered, paying that Cedric's hearing was going.

"I'm sure the twins will guide us if we get turned around," Bianca quietly spoke back with anxiety in her voice. "All else fails, we smash through any windows... not reinforced."

"Not exactly the Mom n' Pop lab it use to be," Cedric admitted with a bashful chuckle. "Governor Zinzolin was awfully generous with his funds, let me tell you." They all passed underneath the portico and neared the doors.

"The exterior does give a good impression," Cheren remarked, putting on a professional sounding tone of voice. "But you can't judge a book by its cover." He allowed Cedric to slide his card to let the double door slide open.

It was only two second after entering when they heard a desperate female voice urge them to, "CLOSETHEDOORCLOSETHEDOORCLOSETHEDOOR!" Cedric and the Inspectors looked up to find Aurea scrambling around the lobby's couches after a pair of Stunfisk flopping about.

The Professor was taking out Poke Ball after Poke Ball from a bag, looking for two to recall the troublesome pair. Her hair had gone from a classic beehive to standing straight on end like she was about to engage in martial arts with evil aliens.

That alone would've taken them aback but soon they found the floor covered by what must've been fifty Joltik. Among them were three Blitzle playing electric tag with their Thundershock attacks while burning the floor tiles, the glass windows and couch cushions.

Minnie was scrambling by their hooves in trying to avoid their electrical bolts when they decided to make her "it." She was angrily squeaking up at them in words that Hilda would never be allowed to repeat with her guardians. All in all, the inspectors were collectively stunned by the whiplash of madness that laid before them.

"Ah," Cedric uttered with a growing sense of dread, trying to keep up his chipper attitude. "Might've neglected to mention our little tradition of letting Pokemon we study out into the lab to roam overnight." He tried to chuckle despite the disturbed looks on the inspectors' face. "Fun fact: Hilda suggested we do it by type once and it just stuck." He stepped out while trying to avoid stepping on any Joltik.

"Well," Cheren chimed in, trying to sound optimistic in spite of himself, "I grant you point for being as humane as possible."

"Your daughter also appears quite capable as well," Bianca anxiously added, hoping to butter up the Professor. "Bright, Vanessa, any thoughts?"

"Joltik..." Vanessa groaned with a discomforted whine, "Why did it have to be Joltik?" Bright put his hand on her shoulder while guiding her through what was leaving her petrified.

"Less fun fact: You said that you turn off the Storage Lab's systems yesterday!" Aurea angrily accused while recalling both of the Stunfisk. "Do you know how many Joltiks went up my shirt for a quick bite of static?" She reached her left hand underneath her lab coat's right sleeve with a Poke Ball to recall one such underneath. "More than zero!"

"Look on the bright side, sweetheart," Cedric chortled in hopes of not losing more face than he already had. "We will be able to show the League what happens in an emergency such as this very one..." He smiled for real this time. "...that I had actually planned this whole time." The Professor turned back in hopes that the inspectors bought it.

"Anyone else's Mankey suit getting itchy?" Vanessa irately asked, scratching her legs angrily.

"Tell me about it," Bright agreed, scratching his stomach. "Feels like there's a-"

He lifted his shirt to reveal two Joltik sisters had latched onto his belly and screamed from the top of his lung. "Getemoffgetemoffgetemoff," Bright pleaded while stumbling about and trying to pry them off.

Vanessa, all the while, had also rolled up her right pant leg to reveal her calve was host to three Joltik trying to scrap by on static. She took it rather well by only swearing "Crap" on an endless loop. For her, that constituted restraint.

"Don't startle the little ones," Cedric tried to warn frantically. "They're more scared of you than you are of-"

The Professor was interrupted when Bright and Vanessa felt the Joltik give off light shocks in their fear. It was enough to make them jump and convulse across the floor, all but missing music to dance to. Some Joltik scattered while others crawled up their legs, hoping to help their friends.

"-you," Cedric finished dejectedly.

"Well, we've open the cover..." Cheren began gruffly, adjusting his glasses to stay all business. "Can't say the first chapter gives a good first impression..."

"The little guys are kind of cute though," Bianca admitted, giggling when some crawled up her arms.

"Um... it gets good later?" Cedric insisted weakly, a Joltik coming up on his right shoulder innocuously.

To Be Continued...

#pokemon #hilda pokemon #trainer hilda #trainer touko #hilda #touko #pokemon black and white #pokemon black #pokemon white #pokemon bw #unova #oshawott #aurea juniper #professor juniper #trainer cheren #trainer bianca #watchog #herdier #lillipup #patrat #sewaddle

[southwarkcofe]

Retiring from Kidbrooke after Thirty-One Years

Revd Canon Kim Hitch

They say when you’re drowning you see the whole of your life pass before your eyes.  Retirement is a bit like that.  For me, it brought to mind the comment made by Babs in Chicken Run when she thought she was about to die, and saw all her life in front of her: “It was dead boring;” but, in the event, I found it wasn’t boring at all, much to my surprise.

From time to time, you’ll hear the word ‘legacy’ come up in conversations between clergy, which I find interesting.  Clergy say we are called in Christ to be at the service of God and of our neighbour, and we are sincere about that.  Yet, being human, as the years go by ever more rapidly, we find ourselves looking back and asking, “What was that all about?”  It reminds me of listening to Ken Dodd one time when, in a serious moment, he commented that the only thing a comedian leaves behind is the sound of people laughing.  It is both beautiful and precious, and yet also vulnerable and fragile.  I felt an affinity.

On St George’s Day in 1991 I was licenced as Team Rector in the Kidbrooke Team Ministry, little knowing that this would be where my wife and I would grow our family, and where our daughter would be married.  Kidbrooke became our home for 31 years and my life’s work.  To be frank, looking back isn’t always easy; many personal disappointments and failures come to mind.  However, on the plus side have been the people we have known, including some, sadly, no longer with us, and others growing families here like us, with children born, growing up, and becoming adults over the years.  It has been a privilege to have touched lives with so many.

However, a conclusion came on the weekend of 15th and 16th October, our Farewell Weekend.  When it arrived, I knew what was going to happen, but I had no idea how I was going to feel.  In the event, it was one of the most moving occasions of my life.  The church had asked me how I would like them to mark the occasion, but how do you answer that?  Consequently, I hadn’t given much of answer, so they gave us everything they had suggested!  There was a Tea on the Saturday afternoon, a “Cocktails and Mocktails” party that evening, and a big lunch the next day following my final service.

My church family was incredibly generous; however, I was worried that not enough people would come, and that we would be rattling around the church hall, but I needn’t have been; the place was packed.  There were members of today’s church family, local residents, the mayor, the leader of the council, members of the local Citizens UK group, school governors, oh, and the Bishop of Southwark – you name it, they were there!  We were given a wonderful book of photographs and memories, and an anthology of my sermons had even been produced!  Especially precious was meeting again those from long ago, with shared memories of years gone by, sometimes including significant moments in their lives.  Upon hearing the news, they had made the effort to come and join us once again.  It made it all even more special.

The weekend culminated with the Farewell Service on the Sunday, at which we were pleased to be joined by Bishop Karowei. Many kind things were said, stories of how I had said this or done that, and of encounters of whose significance to them, until then, I had little or no inkling.  I confess to feeling something of a fraud.  “If they only realised what I am really like;” I felt.  However, that was the beauty of it; they did; they knew very well what I am like, and yet loved me just the same.  It was a moment of great grace, a moment when unmerited mercy and love were lavished upon me.

Kidbrooke may no longer be my parish, but it’s clear that it will always be a home for us.  That love and acceptance enables me to let go, to float rather than to drown, and to rejoice in all the blessings that God, in his goodness, will bring to St James’ Church family in the years to come, long after we have gone.

[a-crash-in-time-collection]

Chapter 29: Hiding From The Storm

The salty air hit him before anything else as he approached the oceanside. It really shouldn't have, he had come here before many times. Sometimes to catch the sunset. Sometimes to just relax. Jaques suppose that is what you did when you spent your life inside a painting. You didn't realize how precious these moments were until you spent your time hanging on a wall or worse, stuck in the dark of storage.

Jaques still shuddered at the memory, despite the fact that it was long in the past. And he never had to worry about being stuck in one again. It was dark and cold, and he was sure he would have been driven into insanity if he hadn't been moved to the orbital station when he was. Who knows what would have happened... it didn't matter to him now. Except at night, when he worried he would fall asleep and wake up back in that painting.

He was pulled off his dark train of thought by the sound of a branch snap. He turned around quickly, before letting out a sigh of relief as he saw Carol standing there. He should have seen her coming. But sudden noises weren't something he should have worried about anymore. They were just a part of life. He awkwardly readjusted himself and looked back over to the ocean blue. He waited for some comments but got none.

He heard some footsteps, turning to find Carol standing by him. She seemed to sit down, glaring at the water like it did something wrong. He didn't understand why, but he wasn't going to question it. Although technically part of the elites now, he still didn't know much about her. All he knew was that since Macbeth came back, it was like some weight was lifted off her chest. It had him curious but he wasn't about to ask.

He glanced over at the nearby boat, deciding to go ahead and head in it. They would be fishing that day, getting more food for the clan. It likely wouldn't be much, and who knew what kind of fish that existed on this planet would be like, or if they were safe to eat? But they figured it would be good to get into the habit of fishing now if there were any safe ones, to try to get as many as they could before the waters started to cool.

"Isn't that a freshwater thing?" He asked himself, looking down at the water. He got a small mumble from Carol nearby, hearing a slight splash of the water. He soon turned around to see the chief and his family there. "You know we can take care of it ourselves, you can handle things at the station."

"I know, but I'm starting to get a headache. Part of the station collapsed onto itself earlier." Reginald sighed.

"Besides, DJ Grooves told me about this cool story about the seas near Subcon." Hat Girl said. "And I gotta see it for myself!"

"Oh really?" Jaques asked, tilting his head a bit.

"Yea," She began "He said this used to be the sight where pirates would fight over the lost treasure that was supposedly here. A treasure that supposedly could keep one alive forever. For many years they fought so badly that the ocean life around here was being effaced. Eventually, one night during a storm, a figure was spotted, supposedly made of lightning! And then, suddenly, the fighting stopped. And no one has dared try to find the treasure again."

"Again, lighting is an electrical demon that will eat out your soul before you even have one." Platinum stated.

"All I'm hearing is we're probably not going to get much fish," Carol said with a sigh, picking up the cooler nearby and tossing it into the boat. Jaques had to dodge to avoid being hit by the cooler. She gave a slight glare. "Sorry."

"It's fine, Carol. Just, give me a warning next time." Jaques said, looking out at the sea again as the others started to get in. "Don't think I've ever done anything like this since I visited the Ocean Division."

"Yea yea, we can talk about memories an' stuff later." Right Hand Man said, rolling his eyes as he pushed the boat off the shore. "Let's just get some food an’ get back."

Reginald let out a slight chuckle at his words, and Jaques just looked out over the ocean as he heard Right Hand Man hop in. He just wanted things to go well for the clan, it seemed every time they tried something simple though, there was some sort of catch. He couldn't understand why. He just wanted things to go okay for once, and he knew that's what everyone here wanted. Was that so hard to ask for?

Apparently, it was. They were out there for about an hour at least fishing and were lucky enough to get about 16 fish in that time. It reminded him of when he was younger by the lakesides. Fish always took forever to appear, and when you got one you often got yourself hooked trying to free the poor thing. He was cut out of those memories however by the sudden rush of wind, and a familiar cracking above their heads.

"Woah, that blew in out of nowhere!" Hat Girl said, letting Platinum cower behind her as she looked at the gray sky. "Wonder what fishing in that would be like."

"We not findin' out, yer brot'ers already havin' a panic attack." Right Hand Man said and went to start pushing the boat back to shore with the 'jet-pack legs' as Platinum had randomly started to call them. But it felt like the moment he did, the wind started to go in the opposite way of the shore, somehow being much stronger than the cyborg. "Come on ya dumb wind! Let us t'rough!" He looked at the boat. "...It seems everythin' on t'is planet has a soul so w'y not t'e wind?"

"I don't think we’re getting back to shore anytime soon," Carol said, pausing as she grabbed the cooler before the fish could spill back into the sea. She could have sworn she saw something moving as she took a glimpse at the water. A large something. She glared at it and looked up, spotting what seemed to be a cave in the distance. "What kind of cave just pops out of the water?" Carol asked. "This isn't a video game."

"Who cares, the lighting can't get us there!" Platinum shouted. "Let's go before we're dead!"

"Platinum-" Right Hand Man started, but let out a shout. Lighting had struck the water near him, and for a moment he paused. He then turned to the boat and sighed, quickly pushing it along with the wave to the cave. "Fine."

Luckily with both Right Hand Man and the wind, it only took about a minute to get into the cave. Everyone got out of the boat and Right Hand Man pushed it inside the cave, letting out a sigh as he turned to the waters.

"Oh thank whatever deity is out there." Platinum said, laying on the cave floor as the storm roared outside. He turned to the entrance with a smug grin. "Try and get us here, demons!"

"What if they find a way in?" Carol asked, Platinum quickly going quiet once the idea was mentioned. He looked to the side as Carol glanced around. She got a lighter out of her pocket and turned it on, looking around the nearby area. The cave wasn't too dark near the entrance, but it got darker the deeper the cave seemed to go. Like you expect. "Guess we're going to be camping here for a while." She said with a sigh.

"I'll try and see if there's anything we can use for firewood." Jaques offered, heading to the deeper part of the cave and feeling around. Carol came behind him with the lighter, and they couldn't seem to find much. It was all just a bunch of stones and some areas that looked like they were covered in moss. But knowing that place, who knows what it was? "Nothing much over here!" He called, looking at the group.

"It's fine, we'll be there to help in a moment," Reginald said, looking out over the water. "I hope the rest of the clan is ok. The station shouldn't attract much lighting, but what if..."

"I'll be right back." Right Hand Man said, flying out of the cave. Reginald watched for a moment, worry in his eyes as it was hard to see what was going on in the storm. Platinum stood by his side, his hands shaking a bit. Eventually, though, Right Hand Man came back, some sticks in his arms as he shook one of his arms. "Sorry it took so long, trees aren't as willin' to give up t'eir branches as one would think. Garb some of the green stuff."

"On it!" Jaques said, pulling at the ground as he grabbed some of the strange plants. At least it didn't start screaming like he was half-expecting it would, so he was free to take it over to the pile of sticks on the ground and toss it on it. Carol held her tighter to the pile for a moment, and a small flame started to form. "There- Woah, it's a lot hotter than I thought." He said as he sat down. "Can't believe Snatcher almost burn me in one of these."

"I thought I saw something," Carol commented. "In the water. It was big but, didn't look like a whale."

"I wonder if that could have been the serpent..." Hat Girl said. The room fell silent for a moment as the group looked at her, confused. "Oh, I forgot! There was also their serpent that appeared around the time of the lighting being. Some said it was what held the treasure, and that it... something." She rubbed her head. "I can't remember what... probably attacked the boats, knowing pirate stories and the like."

"And you couldn't have brought that part up earlier?" Carol asked, sitting down as Hat Girl gave a slight shrug. Jaques looked back over at the entrance to the cave, the rain was pouring so hard it made a waterfall at the entrance. He let out a sigh and pictured the being that could be roaring outside, waiting to strike. "I don't think it's one, but hey, it would have been nice to know. We could have gotten a spear."

"I don't think that would have been necessary, Carol," Reginald said, leaning against his husband a little bit.

"Worst case scenario, Macbeth can have Snatcher come and get us," Carol said, leaning against the wall closest to her. Jaques paused as he thought about the Conductor. His memory was faded, but he had to wonder how he ended up as he did. Not as a ghost, he died. Personality wise. He could faintly recall when he was young... "I guess he does have a good thing with his fear of water, even if it's dumb."

"Fear of water?" Jaques asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked at her. She gave him a small glance as if he was dumb for not putting two and two together yet like it was obvious. Then again, he never really saw Macbeth around any water, but that was because the only large body nearby was the ocean, right? "Why would he be scared of water? He doesn't seem like the type to be scared by much, he's dead."

"Trust me, we don't fully know either." Platinum said, tossing a rock up and down in his hand as some form of entertainment. "He doesn't exactly bring it up in conversation."

"He says he just always had a fear of it. He would stare at lakes and take a step back. Never really found out why, if it's just like Platinum with lighting or if he had some experience he can't remember." Carol said with a shrug, Platinum giving her a small glare for the comment. Only to let out a yelp as a large crash of thunder roared through the cave. "I used to take joy in making fun of him for it."

"Wait, at that musical event. Hat Girl was dressed somewhat similar to him, and you held a water bottle up to her." Jaques said, faintly recalling the night. He felt a small chill down his spine. He knew that she was still trying to get over her guilt about his death at the time, but now that memory seemed darker. "That's dark, Carol." He stated allowed, and Carol just gave a glare, before glancing to the side.

"Hey, it's all ok now. Macbeth's back and he can't die in his fear now." Hat Girl said, giving a smile. An awkward silence filled the room, her giving a small chuckle before sighing. No one spoke for the next few minutes, they just couldn't. Even with Macbeth back, the events that lead to his death still happened... Hat Girl let out a yawn as she glanced at the entrance. "You think the clouds will be away from the water by now."

"Hat Girl, grammar." Platinum said, watching his sister stick her tongue at him.

"Platinum, when did you of all people care about grammar?" Reginald asked, letting out a small chuckle as Platinum gave him a slight glare. He looked at the fire near them and then at the entrance. He stood up and headed over to it, placing his arm through the waterfall. He let out a shiver as he quickly pulled it back. "I don't think we're getting out anytime soon, best we save our energy. Hope the ground is comfortable."

"'ere Reg." Right Hand Man said, Reginald, tilting his head as he walked over. The cyborg garbed his hand quickly and pulled him down, Reginald letting out a small shout of surprise. He landed on Right who only shrugged with a small smile, Reginald getting a small blush as he felt an arm wrap around him. Right then shoot a look at the others. "W'ot are ya lookin' at?" He asked, Hat Girl rolling her eyes at the comment as she got up.

"Well, I'm going closer to where the moss stuff was," Jaques said, standing up and beginning to head that way. "I know it's dark but it's not like I'm going to break my neck."

"I'm coming with J, the deeper in the cave the further I am from the lighting beast." Platinum claimed, quickly hopping onto his feet and heading over to Jaques, who gave a small nod in return. It was going to be a wait.

-------

The sound of footsteps mixed with a loud bang of thunder woke Jaques up before his mind had time to process anything. He stood there for about a minute allowing himself to retake his surroundings before letting out a sigh. He heard a small groan from nearby, turning to see Carol rubbing her head as she sat up from her resting position. The two locked eyes for a moment, and then realized no one had gotten up.

Jaques did a double-check just to make sure. Platinum was sleeping by him, or he supposed 'powered off' would be the correct term. Reginald, Right Hand Man, and Hat Girl were all resting nearby. And although Hat Girl had shifted in her sleep, none of them seemed to be awake. The waterfall was flowing with less water, but the sounds from outside made it clear they were still in the middle of the storm. No one could have just shown up.

Carol and Jaques locked eyes as they stood up, Carol pulling out her lighter. Something else was in this cave, and they needed to find whatever it was before it dared to try anything. They began to head into the deeper part of the cave, not a single word between them.

"How could something have even gotten in?" Jaques asked as he looked around, breaking the silence after a few minutes. He got a small 'shush' from Carol, and he let out a sigh. He tried to see if he could hear the footsteps again, but he couldn't begin to try. The sounds of their footsteps would make it hard to focus. "Unless it lives in this cave..." He said with a whisper. "But you think it would have shown up sooner."

"Look, just have your gun ready so we can get rid of whatever it is," Carol said, taking a few steps forward with a huff. She paused after a moment though. Was the cave getting a bit brighter... She turned off her lighter and only a bit of the light went away. She glanced at the cave wall, eventually realizing what was going on. "The walls." She said, feeling them. "The moss on them, it's... glowing now? Why now and not earlier."

"Who knows," Jaques said, pointing at the moss with his finger. It didn't show any reaction to the touch. He paused and sniffed the air, getting an eye roll from Carol. "Does something smell salty to you as well?"

"You remember where this cave is located, right?" Carol asked. Although she remembered that they were a ways away from the only entrance and exit to the cave. Unless there was another opening they hadn't seen yet, they shouldn't be smelling the scent. Or if they were able to, it wouldn't be as strong as what they were smelling now. "Try to see if you can find a salt lake or something. Maybe that's how they came in."

"Aren't those things on the bottom of the ocean?" Jaques asked, Carol, glaring at him. He let out a sigh and began to look around. At least he didn't need to worry about any unexpected turns that would make him run into a wall, the moss showed him where every wall was. He'd like to think he wasn't the type to do that, but he got himself stuck in a painting before. "What do you think this thing could even be?"

"I don't know, and I rather it not hear us," Carol said, lowering her voice once again. "It could kill us if unprepared.... are we started to go deeper?"

"Well-" Jaques started, and then he fell. Carol glanced down the hole unimpressed.

"Yup, we're going downwards," Carol said, glancing down the hole as Jaques shook his head, reaching for his hat. She was about to make some sort of comment when it felt like a chill filled the entire air.

The sounds of footsteps filled Jaques mind, him backing up. The figure was standing nearby, watching him. The salty smell had gotten stronger. He backed up, backed as far as the wall behind would allow him to. The figure came closer, its head tilting to the side.

The light from the moss started to show the details of the figure, and Jaques's building fear was turned into confusion. "Wait..." He said, bringing his head closer to the creature.

At first glance, the shape appeared to be that of a simple horse. Which would have been weird enough since this was an ocean cave. But looking closer, scales lined where fur should have been, a pale bluish gray all over. There were gills along the neck, water still dripping from them.

Jaques found himself staring into the scarlet red eyes of the creature. It leaned towards him and gave a bit of a sniff. "Hello.... you're quite the strange thing.."

"It's official, I have seen everything," Carol stated above. "You should, try and get out before it turns around and kicks your ribs in half."

"I'm not sure..." Jaques started but trailed off as the creature turned around. For a moment he backed up, but the creature began to walk in front. It stopped and turned to him for a moment as if asking something. He began to follow behind, being sure to keep his distance.

"Where are you going?" Carol called, but he ignored her.

He kept following the creature for quite some time, the smell of the sea getting stronger. Until they eventually got to a clearing, more of those creatures lying along the seaside. But soon there was a growl from the middle, and Jaques could faintly see something poking its head out of the water. Something large and scary. He quickly held his hands up.

There was a small crack of... something. It almost sounded like static. For a moment he thought he saw what appeared to be a TV (whatever one would be doing here) turn on, but the serpent's head turned over and blocked whatever it was.

"You can leave the man alone. He was just seeking shelter from the storm you brought..." The voice was staticy, just barely able to be made out. "You have you forgive them, human. They don't awaken often, but when they do, they call a storm at the slightest sign of an issue. Old habits."

The serpent glared at Jaques as it turned its head to him. "Old... habits?"

"They were born to protect the Eversteads, the fish house guys around." The voice said, getting a more casual tone, but still having some formality. The voice reminded him of Platinum, so he could assume this person wasn't the type to get formal often. "There aren't many of them, because they live so long. Some say they were the first creations of a deity. They used to live in the ocean, but so many used to hunt them. The serpent would normally just cause storms to blow the ship away. But someone managed to kill Muiplite when the serpent's back was turned... I had to bring them here to stay safe."

"To make themselves last forever?" Jaques asked. He then turned to the Everstead beside him, resting his hand gently on his back before turning over. "Well, you don't have to worry about anyone in the clan coming for that, then. I already had a taste of immorality, and it's not something anyone here wants."

"That's good to hear... If only that was what the one who killed them wanted them for..." The voice let out a sad chuckle. Before Jaques could ask what he meant, the voice spoke up, a little more staticy. "You should go, the storm is finally fading. As for me, I need to leave before I'm stuck."

"What do you-"

"Jaques!!" Carol's voice echoed out of a nearby tunnel. He could hear the worry in her voice. He backed up from the Everstead that led him there. He had so much to ask, but as he saw the serpent's head lay down, the light was gone. With a sigh, and headed down the tunnel.

"There you two are!" He heard Reginald call just as he got where Carol was, most likely saving him from being grilled by Carol. "What happened."

"I'll tell you back at the station, Reginald," Jaques said. "We should be able to leave now, the storm is clearing up."

"How do you know?" Carol asked.

"I'll tell you back at the station, Carol."

-------

The clan was relieved to see them all get home safe and sound. The storm had lasted all night, and no one knew how to begin to try and check on them without getting dragged into the ocean. Jaques briefly explained what had happened in the cave, leaving out the detail that they were what people were hunting long ago. He didn't want to risk someone who was like him once doing something they all would regret.

"I would be calling bluff, but I saw one of those myself," Carol explained, adjusting the sleeve of the jacket she had thrown on to help her warm herself up.

"Man, I really wish I heard it!" Hat Girl stated with disappointment in her voice. But at the same time, she knew if she woke up, most likely her dads would have as well. And they would have kept her from looking into it.

"I'm just confused about the voice you heard." Platinum said, raising a brow.

"Did it 'appened to sound like t'at Badge Seller?" Right-Hand Man questions from nearby, wiping down his metal arm with something. "Me and Snatcher were talkin' t'e ot'er day-"

"Impossible." Carol smirked.

"But we both agree somethin' just felt, off w'en 'e was 'ere." Right Hand Man stated. He looked up at Carol who just sighed, leaning against the wall nearby. "T'at badge t'at Marybeth had... It showed her somet'in' t'at we couldn't see."

"I mean, his badges do have weird effects. He had one that when you put it on, it would make anything anyone said to sound like gibberish."

"And you bought that?" Reginald asked, confused.

"Hey, it sounds fun Dad." Platinum said, getting a small smirk as he turned to his sister. "You should let me borrow it sometime."

"You wouldn't be able to ignore people with it, Platy." Hat Girl said with a chuckle. "You still could tell what they were saying. It just sorta appeared in your mind."

"Yea yea. Anyway, I gotta go. I promise Van I’d watch something with them.” Platinum said.

"Mind if I come with?" Hat Girl asked.

"You are trying to kill me with this, aren't you?" the robot asked, but allowed her to follow. Jaques shook his head at them with a slight smile on his face. Stuff like this made him happy he was out of that painting. The ability to be a part of life... he paused when he heard a slight thud, turning over to see Mr. Macbeth put his head against the wall, letting out a groan.

"Why Snatcher why..." The ghost mumbled.

"Are you ok? Ghost stole your brain?" Carol asked, getting a small glare from return.

"He's keepin' us from gettin' home sooner, he just booked us all for somethin' without askin' you two." He said, turning to Reginald and Right-Hand Man.

Right Hand Man let out a frustrated sigh, and although Reginald didn't say anything and tilted his head, he could see a bit of tiredness in his eyes. Not that he blamed the chief, so many of them just wanted to go home and at this point, it felt like they made no progress. Jaques then looked at Macbeth. "What did he book?"

Macbeth let out a shiver. "A freaking cruise."

-------

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, oh I know the toppats will be so excited once I tell them," Snatcher said as he headed out the door of the room. "It will be so fun if one of them drowns, but we're just going to have to see."

"You know the Pup will be upset if that happens." The Walrus Captain said from his desk, looking over the papers he had.

"Oh please, you need to learn to take a joke." Snatcher chuckled, and soon the ghost was just gone.

"Well, with you everything's a joke." The captain replied to the air. He sighed as he reached for his cigarette. He shouldn't be upset, this was a good business opportunity after all. He could raise the price a few pons for the tickets for the remaining slots and make a little extra. Who knows, he might be able to finally give some of those seals a bonus. If they don't lose the check on the way to the bank. The screen nearby flicked to life.

"What did I miss?"

#a hat in time #the henry stickmin collection #right hand man #hat girl #hat kid #henry stickmin oc #ahit snatcher #reginald copperbottom #copperright #jaques kensington #carol cross #henry stickmin fanfic #a hat in time fanfic

[suitcasetales]

Hiking a Roller Coaster Track

Thursday was the final hiking day of this trip package and boy was it a doozy! The painful memory of the steep climb up to the obelisk Wednesday was easily usurped by a beautiful but challenging section along the coast.

The weather was gorgeous from the get-go so we took extra care with applying suntan lotion and carrying plenty of water. Nine of us opted for  the 9-mile hike guided by Rachel. A few folks had left the trip already, others had decided to do their own thing and those left were hiking with Phil and we would meet them along the trail later. The best thing is we didn’t have to ride a bus to the start; we simply had to walk out of the hotel and start hiking.

Ever since arriving to Lulworth Cove, and with a view of it from our bedroom window, I had watched people up and down the wide path on the hill behind us. I knew it would have a fantastic view of the village and figured I was going to have to find a time to hike up it. Consulting Rachel, she said I needn’t do it (“unless you just want to”) because we would finish Thursday’s hike by coming down it. Great, I thought, I don’t have to climb it!

Our hike started in the direction of the hill but we skirted around the back of it. We had a gentle climb, passing a few holiday camps and other holiday rentals, and then just had a long, almost flat walk across the top of pastures and farmland sloping off to our left toward the sea or as far as the eye could see to the right. It was quiet and peaceful walking, chatting among ourselves or walking alone with our thoughts. No close encounters with any cows today — we could see them down in the valley at Scratchy Bottom (quite possibly the best name encountered on this trip) but we did pass through several gates.

Eventually we turned down a paved country lane, picking blackberries as we descended to St. Catherine’s By-the-Sea. I was surprised that it was a wooden church instead of the typical stone churches here. There was a small cemetery out back with wooden benches and a nice view of the sea. I spoke to an elderly couple who said it was their daily routine to walk there. We took a break here, enjoying our “elevenses.” [traditionally, around 11am, a break for a snack and tea or coffee] as it was too early for lunch.

Back on the South West Coast Path, we were “only” three-and-a-half miles away from Lulworth. Now we were walking along the cliff tops, looking back at the Isle of Portland and town of Weymouth, or forward to just beautiful scenery. 

We arrived at a viewpoint with our future laid out before us: the three humps we would climb after lunch!

We met up with Phil and his small band of hiking women at another obelisk and enjoyed lunch together….and posed for the obligatory group photo. Energized for the task ahead, the smaller group headed up the hill to walk a higher contour trail while we continued on the coastal path.

It is interesting to see the various parallel tracks that have developed over the years of people hiking this trail. You can just imagine if it were muddy — oh, I don’t want to walk here, I’ll just move over on to this grassy bit, etc. 

Then, a big hill comes in to my view and I notice the stripes running all up the hillside and it takes me a second and then it hits me: those are the hiking trails! Duh.

So we are looking over to that hill and it occurs to Janet and me that we have to hike down the hill we are on in order to start up the other side and it is a very steep descent. I take a look down and look back at Janet and she says, “I don’t think I can do this.” And I knew she was right; there was no way she was going to go down that hill. We turned around to inform Rachel. She assured Janet she did not have to do it, that there was another way to get down so off they went, inland and upland a bit, to come around the valley at a higher contour while the rest of us made the great descent. Actually, by this time, Sue and Norman were long since down, Mark and Monica were well on their way. Peter hung back with Ruth and I and descended just in front of us. Once we were down and looking back, we realized there was an easier track to take but we couldn’t see it from the top. “Easier” being a relative term though, because it was also closest to the edge of the cliff!

I slowly climbed up the next hill, realizing at the top that we were facing another steep descent. I could see the trajectory of the path Janet and Rachel were walking and I was worried that the same thing was going to happen so I walked up the fence line and met them. Rachel said they were already planning a go-around but she needed to relay a message for everyone to wait for her at the bottom of that hill, which was the aforementioned Scratchy Bottom! So around they went and down I went, via my feet, not my bottom, I am happy to report! There, we all met up again — first Phil and the other women, then Janet and Rachel.

From Scratchy Bottom, we had a great view of the famous Durdle Door. Look closely and you will see the steps down to the very popular sandy beach. I was amazed and impressed that so many people would go all the way down there, schlepping all the usual beach gear. I was even more amazed and impressed when we got around to the top of those steps and started up the long, hot, gravel “road” leading to the parking lot, passing several three generation groups!!

A few feet from the parking lot, we turned off on to the coastal path for the final time and shortly took in the breathtaking view of Lulworth Cove. We were home! Well, not really, because we still had to go down that big hill. And that was not a difficult descent at all, being a well-groomed, stair-cased path. Now I understood why the rocky beach at Lulworth was never as busy as you would guess from the number of cars in the parking lot — people parked at Lulworth and walked to Durdle Door!

We bottomed out around 3:00, the earliest we had been back all week. Some went straight to the pub at The Lulworth Cove Inn; others of us went directly to buy ice-cream….which we then took to the pub! Janet enjoyed another local cider and then we went up to our room to change in to our bathing suits and head to the beach.

Most of the beach at Lulworth Cove was in the shade and there was a big difference in temperature between the late day sun and the shade. The beach is rocky, not sandy, and so it is hard and slippery to walk in to the cove. Probably not surprisingly, Janet made it all the way in and I only made it in to mid-thigh. That water was cold! Nonetheless, it seemed the appropriate end to a great three days of hiking along Britain’s southern coast. We had seen so much of the coastline this week; it was about time we actually tested the waters!

[turnpage]

send me a ✐ for a random sentence starter from my muse (1-1500) — tw: profanity, mild nsfw, long list

generator here quotes compiled from here inspired by

feel free to change to fit your preferences as need.

❨1❩ ❛ They are dreams, but I’m too out of control, I lose myself in them, and I’ve already lost too much to let them take over. ❜
 ❨2❩ ❛ Sometimes human places create inhuman monsters. ❜ ❨3❩ ❛ I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just going to bash your brains in. ❜ ❨4❩ ❛ Monsters are real. Ghosts are too. They live inside of us, and sometimes, they win. ❜ ❨5❩ ❛ The world's a hard place. It doesn't care. It doesn't hate you and me, but it doesn't love us, either. ❜ ❨6❩ ❛ The tears that heal are also the tears that scald and scourge. ❜ ❨7❩ ❛ Pull your act together and just go on. ❜ ❨8❩ ❛ I had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life when there is nothing physically wrong. I hurt all the time. ❜ ❨9❩ ❛ Tough old world, baby. If you're not bolted together tightly, you're gonna shake, rattle, and roll before you turn thirty. ❜ ❨10❩ ❛ Are you sure self-pity is a luxury you can afford? ❜ ❨11❩ ❛ Truth comes out. In the end it always comes out. ❜ ❨12❩ ❛ Living by your wits is always knowing where the wasps are. ❜ ❨13❩ ❛ No matter where you go, the same asshole gets off the plane. ❜ ❨14❩ ❛ We sometimes need to create unreal monsters and bogies to stand in for all the things we fear in our real lives. ❜ ❨15❩ ❛ That’s your job in this hard world, to keep your love alive and see that you get on, no matter what. ❜ ❨16❩ ❛ Human nature, baby. Grab it and growl. ❜ ❨17❩ ❛ God wiped snot out of his nose and that was you. ❜ ❨18❩ ❛ Run away. Quick. And remember how much I love you. ❜ ❨19❩ ❛ How many times, over how many years, have I—a grown adult—asked for the mercy of another chance? ❜ ❨20❩ ❛ I was suddenly so sick of myself, so revolted. ❜ ❨21❩ ❛ You listen to me. I’m going to talk to you about it this once and never again this same way. ❜ ❨22❩ ❛ But those pieces, they’ll never fit just the same way again. Never in this world. ❜ ❨23❩ ❛ Dying is a part of living. You have to keep tuning in to that if you expect to be a whole person. ❜ ❨24❩ ❛ Officious little prick. ❜ ❨25❩ ❛ I’ve been sleepwalking again, my dear. — The plants are moving under the rug. ❜ ❨26❩ ❛ How I wish you were fear. ❜ ❨27❩ ❛ But it was a dreadful kind of curiosity, the kind that makes you peek through your fingers during the scariest parts of a scary movie. ❜ ❨28❩ ❛ All we have is time, you know. An eternity of time. Or shall we end it? Might as well. After all, we're missing the party. ❜ ❨29❩ ❛ We all remember our pleasant dreams more clearly than the scary ones. ❜ ❨30❩ ❛ The way things should be and the way things are hardly ever get together. ❜ ❨31❩ ❛ Got to be regular if you want to be happy. ❜ ❨32❩ ❛ But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. ❜ ❨33❩ ❛ He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none. ❜ ❨34❩ ❛ Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep. ❜ ❨35❩ ❛ It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment's carelessness.  ❜ ❨36❩ ❛ If I had ever believed it, I no longer do. ❜ ❨37❩ ❛ I thought once that gods are the opposite of death, but I see now they are more dead than anything, for they are unchanging, and can hold nothing in their hands. ❜ ❨38❩ ❛ I cannot bear this world a moment longer. ❜ ❨39❩ ❛ I have a better idea. I will do as I please. ❜ ❨40❩ ❛ All my life has been murk and depths, but I am not a part of that dark water. I am a creature within it. ❜ ❨41❩ ❛ You cannot know how frightened gods are of pain. There is nothing more foreign to them, and so nothing they ache more deeply to see. ❜ ❨42❩ ❛ When we are young, we think ourselves the first to have each feeling in the world. ❜ ❨43❩ ❛ When I was born, the word for what I was did not exist. ❜ ❨44❩ ❛ But perhaps no parent can truly see their child. When we look we see only the mirror of our own faults. ❜ ❨45❩ ❛ I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. ❜ ❨46❩ ❛ This is what it means to swim in the tide, to walk the earth and feel it touch your feet. This is what it means to be alive. ❜ ❨47❩ ❛ You threw me to the crows, but it turns out I prefer them to you. ❜ ❨48❩ ❛ Yet because I knew nothing, nothing was beneath me. ❜ ❨49❩ ❛ If now I am wise, it is only because I have been fool enough for a hundred lifetimes. ❜ ❨50❩ ❛ You can teach a viper to eat from your hands, but you cannot take away how much it likes to bite. ❜ ❨51❩ ❛ Give me the blade. Some things are worth spilling blood for. ❜ ❨52❩ ❛ I have been old and stern for so long, carved with regrets and years like a monolith. But that is only a shape I’ve been poured into. I do not have to keep it. ❜ ❨53❩ ❛ I wake sometimes in the dark terrified by my life's precariousness, its thready breath. ❜ ❨54❩ ❛ Understanding the world is a matter of keeping very still and showing no emotions, leaving room for others to reveal themselves. ❜ ❨55❩ ❛ Beneath the smooth, familiar face of things is another that waits to tear the world in two. ❜ ❨56❩ ❛ The truth is, men make terrible pigs. ❜ ❨57❩ ❛ My father has never been able to imagine the world without himself in it. ❜ ❨58❩ ❛ This is the grief that makes our kind choose to be stones and trees rather than flesh. ❜ ❨59❩ ❛ Witches are not so delicate. ❜ ❨60❩ ❛ Those who fight against prophecy only draw it more tightly around their throats. ❜ ❨61❩ ❛ I learned that I could bend the world to my will, as a bow is bent for an arrow. I would have done that toil a thousand times to keep such power in my hands. ❜ ❨62❩ ❛ There's the story, then there's the real story, then there's the story of how the story came to be told. Then there's what you leave out of the story. Which is part of the story too. ❜ ❨63❩ ❛ The best way of being kind to bears is not to be very close to them. ❜ ❨64❩ ❛ Life is warped. I'm just in sync. ❜ ❨65❩ ❛ Now it's a whisper from the past. ❜ ❨66❩ ❛ But hatred and viciousness are addictive. You can get high on them. Once you've had a little, you start shaking if you don't get more. ❜ ❨67❩ ❛ Why is it always such a surprise? The moon. Even though we know it's coming. Every time we see it, it makes us pause, and hush. ❜ ❨68❩ ❛ Perfection exacts a price, but it's the imperfect who pay it. ❜ ❨69❩ ❛ What is 'belief' but a willingness to suspend the negatives?  ❜ ❨70❩ ❛ I have scars, inside me. ❜ ❨71❩ ❛ The dead are not entirely dead but are alive in a different way; a paler way admittedly, and somewhat darker. ❜ ❨72❩ ❛ However dark, a darkness with voices in it is better than a silent void. ❜ ❨73❩ ❛ Amazing how quickly the past becomes idyllic. ❜ ❨74❩ ❛ It is another way of saying tough luck. To people you aren’t going to help out. ❜ ❨75❩ ❛ I'm waiting, far off in the future. ❜ ❨76❩ ❛ The only sure camouflage is unpredictability. ❜ ❨77❩ ❛ There are so many of them, and each one of them is doing part of the killing, whether they know it or not. ❜ ❨78❩ ❛ First rule: limit bloodshed by making sure that none of your own gets spilled. ❜ ❨79❩ ❛ I long to swim in liquid moonlight. ❜ ❨80❩ ❛ That's right, I don’t like to be summoned on trivial matters. ❜ ❨81❩ ❛ The part that really made me happy was that you wanted me to be happy. ❜ ❨82❩ ❛ Cut that part out of us: the grinning, elemental malice. Begin us anew. ❜ ❨83❩ ❛ Where there are wars, there will be crows, the carrion-fanciers. And ravens too, the warbirds, the eyeball gourmands. And vultures, the holy birds of yore, old connoisseurs of rot. ❜ ❨84❩ ❛ At last. It's you. ❜ ❨85❩ ❛ No, you will not be cooked on a fire when you die. Because you are not a fish. ❜ ❨86❩ ❛ Take what the moment offers. Don’t close doors. Be thankful. ❜ ❨87❩ ❛ How many others have stood in this place? Left behind, with all gone, all swept away. ❜ ❨88❩ ❛ Is it disapproval or extreme lust? With some men it’s hard to tell the difference. ❜ ❨89❩ ❛ My hair was driving me crazy, but then … I died. ❜ ❨90❩ ❛ Seek and ye shall find, eventually. And you found. You’re right, I don’t dispute that. Sorry. ❜ ❨91❩ ❛ Everything digests, and is digested. ❜ ❨92❩ ❛ My head was once a filing cabinet. Now it’s a flurry of papers, floating on a draft. ❜ ❨93❩ ❛ You cannot keep bumping your head against reality and saying it is not there. ❜ ❨94❩ ❛ I have a feeling that inside you somewhere, there’s something nobody knows about. ❜ ❨95❩ ❛ And if I don’t want to die, I’ve got to start living. ❜ ❨96❩ ❛ The world is a beautiful place. Don’t forget that. And don’t miss it. ❜ ❨97❩ ❛ I was fighting for my life. So I must not want to die. ❜ ❨98❩ ❛ Something’s happening to me, through me, something dangerous and new. ❜ ❨99❩ ❛ It’s taken root, a poison tree; it’s grown, fanning out, vines winding round my gut, my lungs, my heart. ❜ ❨100❩ ❛ We’re interpreters. We’re translators. ❜ ❨101❩ ❛ You’ll notice I’m not asking what made you this way. ❜ ❨102❩ ❛ No family, happy or unhappy, is quite like any other. Tolstoy was chock-fullo’shit. Remember that. ❜ ❨103❩ ❛ We lived in monochrome those nights. ❜ ❨104❩ ❛ You live in a dream. You’re a sleepwalker, blind. How do you know what the world is like? ❜ ❨105❩ ❛ Do you know, if you rip off the fronts of houses, you’d find swine? ❜ ❨106❩ ❛ I stand here in the dark: cold, utterly alone, full of fear and something that feels like longing. ❜ ❨107❩ ❛ The definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again and expecting different results. ❜ ❨108❩ ❛ Not to warm the flesh, but solely to please the eye. ❜ ❨109❩ ❛ Selective emotional detachment. ❜ ❨110❩ ❛ Not for me, or at least not today. ❜ ❨111❩ ❛ Dead but not gone, watching life surge forward around me, powerless to intervene. ❜ ❨112❩ ❛ Do I sound like a hillbilly saying that? ❜ ❨113❩ ❛ Remember, you’ve got your secret weapon. ❜ ❨114❩ ❛ The dream drains away like water. The memory, really. I try to scoop it up in my palms, but it’s gone. ❜ ❨115❩ ❛ My shadow stretches along the carpet, as though trying to detach itself from me. ❜ ❨116❩ ❛ It curls away from me, like blood in water. ❜ ❨117❩ ❛ It’s been so long since I felt the rain. Or wind—the caress of wind. ❜ ❨118❩ ❛ But snow I never want to feel again. ❜ ❨119❩ ❛ Through adversity to the stars. ❜ ❨120❩ ❛ No hero. No sleuth. I am locked in. I am locked out. ❜ ❨121❩ ❛ Thinking hasn't gotten me anywhere so far. ❜ ❨122❩ ❛ The face you give the world tells the world how to treat you. ❜ ❨123❩ ❛ Sometimes I think illness sits inside every woman, waiting for the right moment to bloom. ❜ ❨124❩ ❛ Women get consumed. ❜ ❨125❩ ❛ Sometimes if you let people do things to you, you're really doing it to them. ❜ ❨126❩ ❛ A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort. ❜ ❨127❩ ❛ Safer to be feared than loved. ❜ ❨128❩ ❛ I ached once, hard, like a period typed at the end of a sentence. ❜ ❨129❩ ❛ It's impossible to compete with the dead. I wish I could stop trying. ❜ ❨130❩ ❛ I always feel sad for the girl that I was. ❜ ❨131❩ ❛ Every time people said I was pretty, I thought of everything ugly swarming beneath my clothes. ❜ ❨132❩ ❛ How do you keep safe when your whole day is as wide and empty as the sky? Anything could happen. ❜ ❨133❩ ❛ See, there I am. I told you I lived. I told you I was. ❜ ❨134❩ ❛ Sometimes I think I won't ever feel safe until I can count my last days on one hand. ❜ ❨135❩ ❛ To refuse has so many more consequences than submitting. ❜ ❨136❩ ❛ I'm here. I don't usually feel that I am. ❜ ❨137❩ ❛ I'm tired of dying. ❜ ❨138❩ ❛ What if you hurt because it feels so good? ❜ ❨139❩ ❛ How confusing to live in the shadow of a shadow. ❜ ❨140❩ ❛ Do you ever feel like bad things are going to happen, and you can’t stop them? You can’t do anything, you just have to wait? ❜ ❨141❩ ❛ Sometimes my scars have a mind of their own. ❜ ❨142❩ ❛ Everyone has their own version of a memory. ❜ ❨143❩ ❛ Isn’t a smile a girl’s best weapon? ❜ ❨144❩ ❛ My sense of weightlessness, I think, comes from the fact that I know so little about my past. ❜ ❨145❩ ❛ Do what I want; I might like you. ❜ ❨146❩ ❛ I feel sorry for Persephone because even when she’s back with the living, people are afraid of her because of where’s she’s been. ❜ ❨147❩ ❛ She has never told me she loved me, and I never assumed she did. ❜ ❨148❩ ❛ The sight of it actually does something to you, makes you less human. ❜ ❨149❩ ❛ It infects you. It ruined me. ❜ ❨150❩ ❛ Your health is not a debt you just cancel. The body collects. ❜ ❨151❩ ❛ Men love to put things inside women, don’t they? ❜ ❨152❩ ❛ We can know only that we know nothing. And that is the highest degree of human wisdom. ❜ ❨153❩ ❛ Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the company of intelligent women. ❜ ❨154❩ ❛ The strongest of all warriors are these two — time and patience. ❜ ❨155❩ ❛ If everyone fought for their own convictions there would be no war. ❜ ❨156❩ ❛ There is no greatness where there is not simplicity, goodness, and truth. ❜ ❨157❩ ❛ The whole world is divided for me into two parts: one is she, and there is all happiness, hope, light; the other is where she is not, and there is dejection and darkness. ❜ ❨158❩ ❛ Let the dead bury the dead, but while I'm alive, I must live and be happy. ❜ ❨159❩ ❛ It's not given to people to judge what's right or wrong. People have eternally been mistaken and will be mistaken, and in nothing more than in what they consider right and wrong. ❜ ❨160❩ ❛ You can love a person dear to you with a human love, but an enemy can only be loved with divine love. ❜ ❨161❩ ❛ If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, then all possibility of life is destroyed. ❜ ❨162❩ ❛ We are asleep until we fall in love! ❜ ❨163❩ ❛ I simply want to live; to cause no evil to anyone but myself. ❜ ❨164❩ ❛ Everything I know, I know because of love. ❜ ❨165❩ ❛ Man cannot possess anything as long as he fears death. But to him who does not fear it, everything belongs. ❜ ❨166❩ ❛ If there was no suffering, man would not know his limits, would not know himself. ❜ ❨167❩ ❛ Yes, love, but not the love that loves for something, to gain something, or because of something, but that love that I felt for the first time, when dying, I saw my enemy and yet loved him. ❜ ❨168❩ ❛ How can one be well...when one suffers morally? ❜ ❨169❩ ❛ Kings are the slaves of history. ❜ ❨170❩ ❛ God is the same everywhere. ❜ ❨171❩ ❛ Pure and complete sorrow is as impossible as pure and complete joy. ❜ ❨172❩ ❛ One must be cunning and wicked in this world. ❜ ❨173❩ ❛ We love people not so much for the good they've done us, as for the good we've done them. ❜ ❨174❩ ❛ When one's head is gone one doesn't weep over one's hair! ❜ ❨175❩ ❛ For what, for whom, must I kill and be killed? ❜ ❨176❩ ❛ He did what heroes do after their work is accomplished; he died. ❜ ❨177❩ ❛ Life is too long to say anything definitely; always say perhaps. ❜ ❨178❩ ❛ Everything ends in death, everything. Death is terrible. ❜ ❨179❩ ❛ The distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible, and inevitable. ❜ ❨180❩ ❛ How often we sin, how much we deceive, and all for what? ❜ ❨181❩ ❛ The wolves should be fed and the sheep kept safe. ❜ ❨182❩ ❛ When I was a child, adults would tell me not to make things up, warning me of what would happen if I did. ❜ ❨183❩ ❛ My memory is a patchwork of occurrences, of discontinuous events roughly sewn together: the parts I remember, I remember precisely, whilst other sections seem to have vanished completely. ❜ ❨184❩ ❛ Would it be worse to love someone who is no longer there, or not to love someone who is? ❜ ❨185❩ ❛ Like mirrors stories prepare us for the day to come. They distract us from the things in darkness. ❜ ❨186❩ ❛ It is not that I was credulous, simply that I believed in all things dark and dangerous. ❜ ❨187❩ ❛ Sometimes you do things you regret, but there's nothing you can do about them. Times change. Doors close behind you. You move on. ❜ ❨188❩ ❛ Love will be an impulse that will inspire and ruin in equal measure. ❜ ❨189❩ ❛ He died alone. It don't matter a rat's ass whether there was anyone with him or not. He died alone. ❜ ❨190❩ ❛ It was love, I knew, and it tasted like champagne in my mind. ❜ ❨191❩ ❛ The end of the world is a strange concept. The world is always ending, and the end is always being averted, by love or foolishness or just plain old dumb luck. ❜ ❨192❩ ❛ She was my dream; and if you touch a dream it vanishes, like a soap bubble. ❜ ❨193❩ ❛ Daylight is always safe. ❜ ❨194❩ ❛ If not for death, they'd be content to simply exist, but with death, well, their lives will have meaning. ❜ ❨195❩ ❛ You want to know the future, love? Then wait. ❜ ❨196❩ ❛ There are things in the darkness beneath us that wish us harm. ❜ ❨197❩ ❛ Fairy tales are more than true. Not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be defeated ❜ ❨198❩ ❛ But sometimes you leave blood on your instruments. ❜ ❨199❩ ❛ I'd like to be a wolf. Not all the time. Just sometimes. In the dark. I would run through the forests. ❜ ❨200❩ ❛ You've seen them. They have mouths that twitch, and eyes that stare, and they babble and they mewl and they whimper. ❜ ❨201❩ ❛ They are not mad, or rather, the loss of their sanity is the lesser of their problems. ❜ ❨202❩ ❛ Good a reason for writing as I know: releasing demons, letting them fly. ❜ ❨203❩ ❛ That miserable state in which everything seems flat and of equal importance; when nothing matters, and in which reality seems scraped thin and threadbare. ❜ ❨204❩ ❛ Someone had scrawled graffiti in black marker on the metal: JUST DIE, it said. Like it is easy. ❜ ❨205❩ ❛ Winter started today. The sky turned grey and the snow began to fall and it did not stop falling until well after dark. ❜ ❨206❩ ❛ Memory is the great deceiver. ❜ ❨207❩ ❛ Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way. ❜ ❨208❩ ❛ I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control.  ❜ ❨209❩ ❛ If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. ❜ ❨210❩ ❛ I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other. ❜ ❨211❩ ❛ But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. ❜ ❨212❩ ❛ I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other would have borne it. ❜ ❨213❩ ❛ There are people, who the more you do for them, the less they will do for themselves. ❜ ❨214❩ ❛ One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other. ❜ ❨215❩ ❛ Better be without sense than misapply it as you do. ❜ ❨216❩ ❛ You must be the best judge of your own happiness. ❜ ❨217❩ ❛ Were I to fall in love, indeed, it would be a different thing ; but I have never been in love ; it is not my way, or my nature ; and I do not think I ever shall. ❜ ❨218❩ ❛ Indeed, I am very sorry to be right in this instance. I would much rather have been merry than wise. ❜ ❨219❩ ❛ If I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream. ❜ ❨220❩ ❛ If a woman doubts as to whether she should accept a man or not, she certainly ought to refuse him. ❜ ❨221❩ ❛ Faultless in spite of all her faults. ❜ ❨222❩ ❛ A heroine whom no one but myself will much like. ❜ ❨223❩ ❛ There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart. ❜ ❨224❩ ❛ Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its fragrance on the desert air. ❜ ❨225❩ ❛ I pity you. I thought you cleverer. ❜ ❨226❩ ❛ Evil to some is always good to others. ❜ ❨227❩ ❛ I certainly will not persuade myself to feel more than I do. ❜ ❨228❩ ❛ She is loveliness itself. ❜ ❨229❩ ❛ Time does not compose me. ❜ ❨230❩ ❛ A man always imagines a woman to be ready for anybody who asks her. ❜ ❨231❩ ❛ I do not find myself making any use of the word sacrifice. ❜ ❨232❩ ❛ I am quite enough in love. I should be sorry to be any more. ❜ ❨233❩ ❛ I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment. ❜ ❨234❩ ❛ I examined my own heart. And there you were. Never, I fear, to be removed. ❜ ❨235❩ ❛ With all your little faults, you are an excellent creature. ❜ ❨236❩ ❛ You have another long walk before you. ❜ ❨237❩ ❛ The child's laughter is pure until he first laughs at a clown. ❜ ❨238❩ ❛ What is marriage but prostitution to one man instead of many? ❜ ❨239❩ ❛ Out of the frying pan into the fire! ❜ ❨240❩ ❛ We must all make do with the rags of love we find flapping on the scarecrow of humanity. ❜ ❨241❩ ❛ She sleeps. And now she wakes each day a little less. ❜ ❨242❩ ❛ And, oh, God . . . how frequently I weep! ❜ ❨243❩ ❛ From the coffin of your madness there is no escape. ❜ ❨244❩ ❛ I am feeling supernatural tonight. I want to eat diamonds. ❜ ❨245❩ ❛ All the same there is a chance that if we keep on shaking our chains, one day, some day, the clasps upon the shackles will part. ❜ ❨246❩ ❛ It was sad music fit to make you cut your throat. ❜ ❨247❩ ❛ Nothing is more boring than being forced to play. ❜ ❨248❩ ❛ Amongst the monsters, I am well hidden; who looks for a leaf in a forest? ❜ ❨249❩ ❛ Wherein does a woman’s honour reside? In her vagina or in her spirit? ❜ ❨250❩ ❛ Perhaps...I could not be content with mere contentment! ❜ ❨251❩ ❛ Have you ever stared stark failure in the face? The trick is to outstare it. ❜ ❨252❩ ❛ Sometimes it seems that the faces exist of themselves, in a disembodied somewhere, waiting for the one who will wear them, who will bring them to life. ❜ ❨253❩ ❛ I have the febrile gaiety of a being without a past, without a present, yet I exist. ❜ ❨254❩ ❛ I felt myself turning, willy-nilly, from a woman into an idea. ❜ ❨255❩ ❛ She looks wonderful, but she doesn't look right. ❜ ❨256❩ ❛ The one-eyed man will be King in the country of the blind. ❜ ❨257❩ ❛ I raised you up to fly to the heavens, not to brood over a clutch of eggs! ❜ ❨258❩ ❛ I love to hear my bones rattle. That’s how I know I’m alive. ❜ ❨259❩ ❛ I learnt, first, as the birds do, from the birds. ❜ ❨260❩ ❛ Inside and outside match exactly, but both are badly wrong. ❜ ❨261❩ ❛ During the less-than-blink of time it took the last chime to die, there came a vertiginous sensation. ❜ ❨262❩ ❛ I fear a wound not of the body but the soul, an irreconcilable division between myself and the rest of humankind. ❜ ❨263❩ ❛ I fear the proof of my own singularity. ❜ ❨264❩ ❛ Still nothing could calm the fearful storm in my erupting skin. ❜ ❨265❩ ❛ Petersburg, loveliest of all hallucinations. ❜ ❨266❩ ❛ A breathless second between black forest and the frozen sea. ❜ ❨267❩ ❛ I'm beginning to feel totally cut off from the world. ❜ ❨268❩ ❛ What does this all mean? Where are we? ❜ ❨269❩ ❛ Sometimes I bleed. ❜ ❨270❩ ❛ If you see a ghost, you say "hello". ❜ ❨271❩ ❛ The war is not over. ❜ ❨272❩ ❛ You're not going. You left us once already. ❜ ❨273❩ ❛ You can’t go! ❜ ❨274❩ ❛ I loved you, but that wasn't enough, was it? ❜ ❨275❩ ❛ If you're dead, then leave me in peace. ❜ ❨276❩ ❛ The only thing that moves here is the light, but it changes everything. ❜ ❨277❩ ❛ I won't ask for forgiveness for something I didn't do! ❜ ❨278❩ ❛ Sometimes the world of the living gets mixed up with the world of the dead. ❜ ❨279❩ ❛ Death of a loved one can lead people to do the strangest things. ❜ ❨280❩ ❛ Sooner or later, they will find you. ❜ ❨281❩ ❛ They're everywhere - they say this house is theirs. ❜ ❨282❩ ❛ You're always teasing me, and telling lies. I'm sick of it. ❜ ❨283❩ ❛ Others will come. Sometimes we'll sense them. Other times, we won't. ❜ ❨284❩ ❛ No crying now. No crying. Stop that. Here. Look what an awful face you've got when you cry. ❜ ❨285❩ ❛ You listen to me. I've seen them too. ❜ ❨286❩ ❛ You'll see. There are going to be some big surprises. There are going to be... changes. ❜ ❨287❩ ❛ Why did you go and fight that stupid war that had nothing to do with us? Why didn't you stay like the others did? ❜ ❨288❩ ❛ Your place was here with your family. ❜ ❨289❩ ❛ So you say you know this house well? ❜ ❨290❩ ❛ I wasn't expecting you so soon. ❜ ❨291❩ ❛ What's the matter? Has the cat got your tongue? ❜ ❨292❩ ❛ You mean they just vanished? Into thin air? ❜ ❨293❩ ❛ No door must be opened without the previous one being closed first. ❜ ❨294❩ ❛ Here, most of the time, you can hardly see your way. ❜ ❨295❩ ❛ Whatever you do, don't open the curtains. ❜ ❨296❩ ❛ Now, come on. Eyes closed. ❜ ❨297❩ ❛ We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. We realise that we’re all going to die, without really finding out the big answers. ❜ ❨298❩ ❛ By definition, you have to live until you die. Better to make that life as complete and enjoyable an experience as possible, in case death is shite, which I suspect it will be. ❜ ❨299❩ ❛ I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. ❜ ❨300❩ ❛ And the reasons? There are no reasons. ❜ ❨301❩ ❛ Love does not exist, it's like religion, made to control you. ❜ ❨302❩ ❛ After all, we're not fucking stupid. At least, we're not that fucking stupid. ❜ ❨303❩ ❛ You fucking knew that fucking cunt would fuck some cunt. ❜ ❨304❩ ❛ Everything in the street today seems soft focus. ❜ ❨305❩ ❛ What does that make us? The lowest of the low. ❜ ❨306❩ ❛ Take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty, and you're still fuckin’ miles off the pace. ❜ ❨307❩ ❛ It’s as if everything is a copy of what you knew before, similar, yet somehow lacking in its usual qualities, a bit like the way things are in a dream. ❜ ❨308❩ ❛ It’s all okay, it’s all beautiful; but I fear that this internal sea is going to subside soon, leaving this poisonous shite washed up, stranded up in my body. ❜ ❨309❩ ❛ It cuts me up. It confuses me. ❜ ❨310❩ ❛ It's not funny laughter. This is lynch mob laughter. ❜ ❨311❩ ❛ Protect me from those who wish to help us. ❜ ❨312❩ ❛ They mean well, and they mean well to me, but there's no way under the sun that they can appreciate what I feel, what I need. ❜ ❨313❩ ❛ The pit of melancholy is a bottomless one, and I am descending fast. ❜ ❨314❩ ❛ Living like this is a full-time business. ❜ ❨315❩ ❛ I’ll stand or fall alone. ❜ ❨316❩ ❛ We are no wiser now than at the start. ❜ ❨317❩ ❛ This is pathetic, and fucking boring. ❜ ❨318❩ ❛ Death is usually a process, rather than an event. ❜ ❨319❩ ❛ We're ruled by effete arseholes. What does that make us? ❜ ❨320❩ ❛ We are all acquaintances now. ❜ ❨321❩ ❛ The problem is that this beautiful ocean carries with it loads of poisonous flotsam and jetsam. ❜ ❨322❩ ❛ Life is beautiful. I'm going to enjoy it, and I'm going to have a long life. ❜ ❨323❩ ❛ The grim reality of impending death can be talked away by trying to invest in the present reality of life. ❜ ❨324❩ ❛ There must be more to life than this. ❜ ❨325❩ ❛ We all see what we want to see. ❜ ❨326❩ ❛ Statistically speaking, you're more likely to be killed by a member of your own family or a close friend, than by anyone else. ❜ ❨327❩ ❛ What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question. ❜ ❨328❩ ❛ Maybe that's what love is: it's being pissed off. ❜ ❨329❩ ❛ You can forget who you are if you're alone too much. ❜ ❨330❩ ❛ Any religion is a shadow of God. But the shadows of God are not God. ❜ ❨331❩ ❛ Human understanding is fallible, and we see through a glass, darkly.  ❜ ❨332❩ ❛ We must be a beacon of hope, because if you tell people there's nothing they can do, they will do worse than nothing. ❜ ❨333❩ ❛ Everyone wants to feel like a princess, and princesses are selfish and overbearing. ❜ ❨334❩ ❛ We shouldn't have been so scornful; we should have had compassion. But compassion takes work, and we were young. ❜ ❨335❩ ❛ How easy it is, treachery. You just slide into it. ❜ ❨336❩ ❛ Amazing how the heart clutches at anything familiar, whimpering: Mine! Mine! ❜ ❨337❩ ❛ All creatures know that some must die ; that all the rest may take and eat. ❜ ❨338❩ ❛ Is this the image of a god? My tooth for yours, your eye for mine? ❜ ❨339❩ ❛ Without the light, no chance; without the dark, no dance. ❜ ❨340❩ ❛ Why are we designed to see the world as supremely beautiful just as we're about to be snuffed? Do rabbits feel the same as the fox teeth bite down on their necks? Is it mercy? ❜ ❨341❩ ❛ Love is useless, it leads you into dumb exchanges in which you give too much away, and then you get bitter and mean. ❜ ❨342❩ ❛ Maybe sadness is a kind of hunger. Maybe the two go together. ❜ ❨343❩ ❛ Now I can see how that can happen. You can fall in love with anybody -- a fool, a criminal, a nothing. There are no good rules. ❜ ❨344❩ ❛ If you really want to stay the same age you are now forever and ever, try jumping off the roof: death's a sure-fire method for stopping time. ❜ ❨345❩ ❛ You couldn’t leave words lying around where our enemies might find them. ❜ ❨346❩ ❛ I'm fine, for the moment. And the moment is the only time we can be fine in. ❜ ❨347❩ ❛ Because if you can't wish, why bother? ❜ ❨348❩ ❛ It's better to hope than mope! ❜ ❨349❩ ❛ Reality has too much darkness in it. Too many crows. ❜ ❨350❩ ❛ In any case, time is not a thing that passes, it’s a sea on which you float. ❜ ❨351❩ ❛ I know I’m deceiving myself, but I prefer to deceive myself. I desperately need to believe such pure joy is still possible. ❜ ❨352❩ ❛ Too much God and you overdose. God needs to be filtered. ❜ ❨353❩ ❛ Behind my eyelids I saw an animal. It was golden colour, with gentle green eyes and canine teeth, and curly wool instead of fur. It opened its mouth, but it did not speak. Instead, it yawned. ❜ ❨354❩ ❛ ‘Why can't I believe?’ I asked the darkness. ❜ ❨355❩ ❛ Everyone’s too sad for everything. ❜ ❨356❩ ❛ If you can’t stop the waves, go sailing. ❜ ❨357❩ ❛ I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary. ❜ ❨358❩ ❛ Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them. ❜ ❨359❩ ❛ In the end, we'll all become stories. ❜ ❨360❩ ❛ I am inadequate and stupid, without worth. I might as well be dead. ❜ ❨361❩ ❛ If you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen next—if you knew in advance the consequences of your own actions—you'd be doomed. You'd be ruined as God. ❜ ❨362❩ ❛ If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. ❜ ❨363❩ ❛ Stupidity is the same as evil if you judge by the results. ❜ ❨364❩ ❛ Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been. ❜ ❨365❩ ❛ Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? ❜ ❨366❩ ❛ We still think of a powerful man as a born leader and a powerful woman as an anomaly. ❜ ❨367❩ ❛ If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon? ❜ ❨368❩ ❛ You fit into me like a hook into an eye. ❜ ❨369❩ ❛ Knowing too much about other people puts you in their power, they have a claim on you, you are forced to understand their reasons for doing things and then you are weakened. ❜ ❨370❩ ❛ Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. ❜ ❨371❩ ❛ Women have curious ways of hurting someone else. ❜ ❨372❩ ❛ This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible: the song that forces men to leap overboard in squadrons. ❜ ❨373❩ ❛ Get rid of death. Make it be spring. ❜ ❨374❩ ❛ You are innocent as a bathtub full of bullets. ❜ ❨375❩ ❛ I am the space you desecrate as you pass through. ❜ ❨376❩ ❛ Favour me and give me riches, destroy my enemies. Save me from death. ❜ ❨377❩ ❛ She is a raw voice loose in the rooms beneath me. ❜ ❨378❩ ❛ Isn't the moon warm enough for you, why do you need the blanket of another body? ❜ ❨379❩ ❛ This is a torch song. Touch me and you'll burn. ❜ ❨380❩ ❛ If you look long enough eventually you will see me. ❜ ❨381❩ ❛ I would like to sleep with you, to enter your sleep as its smooth dark wave slides over my head. ❜ ❨382❩ ❛ I would like to give you the silver branch, the small white flower, the one word that will protect you from the grief. ❜ ❨383❩ ❛ But some people can't tell where it hurts. They can't calm down. They can't ever stop howling. ❜ ❨384❩ ❛ How else can we live, these days, except in the midst of ruin? ❜ ❨385❩ ❛ What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question. ❜ ❨386❩ ❛ Gods always come in handy, they justify almost anything. ❜ ❨387❩ ❛ We loved with a love that was more than love. ❜ ❨388❩ ❛ Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. ❜ ❨389❩ ❛ The boundaries which divide life from death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? ❜ ❨390❩ ❛ There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportion. ❜ ❨391❩ ❛ Never to suffer would never to have been blessed. ❜ ❨392❩ ❛ Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear. ❜ ❨393❩ ❛ And all I loved, I loved alone. ❜ ❨394❩ ❛ Years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute. ❜ ❨395❩ ❛ The best things in life make you sweaty. ❜ ❨396❩ ❛ There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. ❜ ❨397❩ ❛ Anything is better than this agony. ❜ ❨398❩ ❛ You fancy me mad. ❜ ❨399❩ ❛ I hear all things in the heaven and in the earth. ❜ ❨400❩ ❛ Who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? ❜ ❨401❩ ❛ Leave my loneliness unbroken! ❜ ❨402❩ ❛ A more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrills every fibre of my frame. ❜ ❨403❩ ❛ The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. ❜ ❨404❩ ❛ Let my heart be still a moment. ❜ ❨405❩ ❛ You call it hope —  It is but agony of desire. ❜ ❨406❩ ❛ Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or silly action for no other reason than because he knows he should not? ❜ ❨407❩ ❛ To die laughing must be the most glorious of all glorious deaths! ❜ ❨408❩ ❛ The beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage. ❜ ❨409❩ ❛ Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive. ❜ ❨410❩ ❛ I have been happy, though in a dream. ❜ ❨411❩ ❛ Nevermore. ❜ ❨412❩ ❛ The truth is, I am heartily sick of this life. ❜ ❨413❩ ❛ I am convinced that every thing is going wrong. ❜ ❨414❩ ❛ The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls. ❜ ❨415❩ ❛ And if I died, at least I will have died for you! ❜ ❨416❩ ❛ It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. ❜ ❨417❩ ❛ Hurt and humiliation — But this, I can not take. ❜ ❨418❩ ❛ The walls in there have ears. ❜ ❨419❩ ❛ This is for your ears only. ❜ ❨420❩ ❛ What is it? You have me scared. ❜ ❨421❩ ❛ Whoever isn’t for us, is against us. ❜ ❨422❩ ❛ You are just a body; to be dumped, disposed of like a carcass, left out for the birds to feed on. ❜ ❨423❩ ❛ The dead will have to forgive me. ❜ ❨424❩ ❛ From now on and no matter how your mind may I change, I will not accept your help. ❜ ❨425❩ ❛ If death comes, so be it. There will be glory in it. ❜ ❨426❩ ❛ Live, then; and live with your choice. ❜ ❨427❩ ❛ I am doing what has to be done. ❜ ❨428❩ ❛ Nothing is going to stop the ones that love you from keeping on loving you. ❜ ❨429❩ ❛ Worst is the man who has all the good advice, and then because his nerve fails, fails to act in accordance with it, as a leader should. ❜ ❨430❩ ❛ Only a loony would walk himself into this. ❜ ❨431❩ ❛ Why do you need such fences and defences? ❜ ❨432❩ ❛ Enough. Do not anger me. ❜ ❨433❩ ❛ The gods, you think, will side with the likes of him? ❜ ❨434❩ ❛ Watch it. You are over stepping. ❜ ❨435❩ ❛ I warn you. You should keep a civil tongue. ❜ ❨436❩ ❛ There is no such thing as an oath the can not be broken. ❜ ❨437❩ ❛ Every now and then, the things you’d hardly let yourself imagine, actually happen. ❜ ❨438❩ ❛ And you stand over this? This is the truth? ❜ ❨439❩ ❛ The bigger the resistance, the bigger the collapse. ❜ ❨440❩ ❛ Iron that’s forged the hardest, snaps the quickest. ❜ ❨441❩ ❛ Even the wildest horses come to heel when they are reined & bitted right. ❜ ❨442❩ ❛ That’s how guilt affects some people. They break and everything comes out. ❜ ❨443❩ ❛ Will it be enough for you? To see me executed? ❜ ❨444❩ ❛ So you know something no one else knows? ❜ ❨445❩ ❛ They know it too. They are just too afraid to say it. ❜ ❨446❩ ❛ If you die, how will I keep on living? ❜ ❨447❩ ❛ There was a star riding through clouds one night, & I said to the star, 'Consume me'. ❜ ❨448❩ ❛ How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. ❜ ❨449❩ ❛ Alone, I often fall down into nothingness. I have to bang my head against some hard door to call myself back to the body. ❜ ❨450❩ ❛ I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me. ❜ ❨451❩ ❛ For this moment, this one moment, we are together.  ❜ ❨452❩ ❛ Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder. ❜ ❨453❩ ❛ I am as neat as a cat in my habits. ❜ ❨454❩ ❛ Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me. ❜ ❨455❩ ❛ I am the foam that sweeps and fills the uttermost rims of the rocks with whiteness; I am also a girl, here in this room. ❜ ❨456❩ ❛ We are cut, we are fallen. We are become part of that unfeeling universe ❨457❩ that sleeps when we are at our quickest and burns red when we lie ❨458❩ asleep. ❜ ❨459❩ ❛ These moments of escape are not to be despised. They come too seldom. ❜ ❨460❩ ❛ Up here my eyes are green leaves, unseeing. ❜ ❨461❩ ❛ The moment is all; the moment is enough. ❜ ❨462❩ ❛ I do not want to be admired. I want to give, to be given. ❜ ❨463❩ ❛ I am not one and simple, but complex and many. ❜ ❨464❩ ❛ And if you are dead, I shall weep. ❜ ❨465❩ ❛ But beauty must be broken daily to remain beautiful. ❜ ❨466❩ ❛ But our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our love. ❜ ❨467❩ ❛ I desired always to stretch the night and fill it fuller and fuller with dreams. ❜ ❨468❩ ❛ Life is a dream surely. ❜ ❨469❩ ❛ I think sometimes I am not a woman, but the light that falls on this gate, on this ground. I am the seasons, I think sometimes, January, May, November; the mud, the mist, the dawn. ❜ ❨470❩ ❛ Oh, I am in love with life! ❜ ❨471❩ ❛ I have been knotted; I have been torn apart. ❜ ❨472❩ ❛ There was no freedom in life, and certainly there was none in death. ❜ ❨473❩ ❛ I do not know. I do not know myself sometimes, or how to measure and name and count out the grains that make me what I am. ❜ ❨474❩ ❛ I ride rough waters, and shall sink with no one to save me. ❜ ❨475❩ ❛ I am above the earth now. I am no longer upright, to be knocked against and damaged. ❜ ❨476❩ ❛ I see it all. I feel it all. ❜ ❨477❩ ❛ Death is woven in with the violets. Death and again death. ❜ ❨478❩ ❛ We have been walking for hours it seems. But where? I cannot remember. ❜ ❨479❩ ❛ If we were all on trial for our thoughts, we would all be hanged. ❜ ❨480❩ ❛ When you are in the middle of a story it isn't a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass. ❜ ❨481❩ ❛ Murderess is a strong word to have attached to you. It has a smell to it, that word; - musky and oppressive, like dead flowers in a vase.  ❜ ❨482❩ ❛ Sometimes at night I whisper it over to myself: Murderess, murderess. It rustles, like a taffeta skirt across the floor. ❜ ❨483❩ ❛ If the world treats you well, you come to believe you are deserving of it. ❜ ❨484❩ ❛ If I am good enough and quiet enough, perhaps after all they will let me go. ❜ ❨485❩ ❛ It’s not easy being quiet and good, it’s like hanging on to the edge of a bridge when you’ve already fallen over; you don’t seem to be moving, just dangling there, and yet it is taking all your strength. ❜ ❨486❩ ❛ There is no fool like an educated fool. ❜ ❨487❩ ❛ There are many dangerous things that may take place in a bed. ❜ ❨488❩ ❛ I am afraid of falling into hopeless despair, over my wasted life, and I am still not sure how it happened. ❜ ❨489❩ ❛ Underneath it all is another feeling, a feeling of being wide-eyed awake and watchful. ❜ ❨490❩ ❛ And underneath all that is another feeling still, a feeling like being torn open; not like a body of flesh, it is not painful as such, but like a peach; and not even torn open, but ripe and splitting open of its own accord.  ❜ ❨491❩ ❛ The small details of life often hide a great significance. ❜ ❨492❩ ❛ Guilt comes to you not from the things you've done, but from the things that others have done to you. ❜ ❨493❩ ❛ I wonder, how can I be all of these different things at once? ❜ ❨494❩ ❛ It is always a mistake to curse back openly at those who are stronger than you unless there is a fence between. ❜ ❨495❩ ❛ Some call this "Eve's curse," but I think that is stupid because the real curse of Eve was having to put up with the nonsense of Adam. ❜ ❨496❩ ❛ I don't know why they are all so eager to be remembered. What good will it do them? There are some things that should be forgotten by everyone, and never spoken of again. ❜ ❨497❩ ❛ I would never blame a human creature for feeling lonely. ❜ ❨498❩ ❛ If they want a monster so badly they ought to be provided by one. ❜ ❨499❩ ❛ It’s as if I never existed, because no trace of me remains, I have left no marks. And that way I cannot be followed. It is almost the same as being innocent. ❜ ❨500❩ ❛ Today you wear your habitual expression of strained anxiety; you smell of violets. ❜ ❨501❩ ❛ Of course you have always been an idealist, and filled with your optimistic dreams; but reality must at some time obtrude. ❜ ❨502❩ ❛ I wonder what would become of me, and comfort myself that in a hundred years I will be dead and at peace. ❜ ❨503❩ ❛ For it is not always the one that strikes the blow that is the actual murderer. ❜ ❨504❩ ❛ There is a “do this” or “do that” with God, but not any “because”. ❜ ❨505❩ ❛ If you have a need and they find it out, they will use it against you. The best way is to stop from wanting anything. ❜ ❨506❩ ❛ They say, why don’t you ever smile or laugh, we never see you smiling, and I say I suppose I have gotten out of the way of it, my face won’t bend in that direction any more. ❜ ❨507❩ ❛ I was shut up inside that doll of myself, and my true voice could not get out. ❜ ❨508❩ ❛ I see what you’re after. You are a collector. You think all you have to do is give me an apple, and then you can collect me. ❜ ❨509❩ ❛ If you want to be an asshole, it's a free country. Millions before you have made the same life choice. ❜ ❨510❩ ❛ Then there's the future. Sheer vertigo. ❜ ❨511❩ ❛ Nature is to zoos as God is to churches. ❜ ❨512❩ ❛ After everything that's happened, how can the world still be so beautiful? ❜ ❨513❩ ❛ There's something to be said for hunger: at least it lets you know you're still alive. ❜ ❨514❩ ❛ These things sneak up on me for no reason, these flashes of irrational happiness. It's probably a vitamin deficiency. ❜ ❨515❩ ❛ Toast cannot be explained by any rational means. Toast is me. I am toast. ❜ ❨516❩ ❛ You can’t buy it, but it has a price. Everything has a price. ❜ ❨517❩ ❛ As a species were doomed by hope, then? You could call it hope. That, or desperation. ❜ ❨518❩ ❛ I am not my childhood. ❜ ❨519❩ ❛ Human beings hope they can stick their souls into someone else and live on forever. ❜ ❨520❩ ❛ “I'll make you mine”, lovers said in old books. They never said, “I'll make you me.” ❜ ❨521❩ ❛ How much is too much, how far is too far? ❜ ❨522❩ ❛ Expectation isn't the same as desire. ❜ ❨523❩ ❛ Why not cut to the chase? ❜ ❨524❩ ❛ Maybe there aren't any solutions. Human society, corpses and rubble. ❜ ❨525❩ ❛ I thought you didn’t believe in God. ❜ ❨526❩ ❛ I need at least the illusion of being understood. ❜ ❨527❩ ❛ What change would have altered the course of events? In the big picture, nothing. In the small picture, so much. ❜ ❨528❩ ❛ You are only looking at the dirt under your feet. It's not good for you. ❜ ❨529❩ ❛ I like to keep only the bright side of myself turned towards you.  ❜ ❨530❩ ❛ Grief in the face of inevitable death. The wish to stop time. The human condition. ❜ ❨531❩ ❛ So many crucial events take place behind people’s backs, when they aren’t in a position to watch: birth and death, for instance. ❜ ❨532❩ ❛ Would you kill someone you loved to spare them pain? ❜ ❨533❩ ❛ When the water’s moving faster than the boat, you can’t control a thing. ❜ ❨534❩ ❛ Don't be so fucking sentimental. ❜ ❨535❩ ❛ Wrong, as usual. ❜ ❨536❩ ❛ Why do you want to talk about ugly things? ❜ ❨537❩ ❛ I understand why serial killers send helpful clues to the police. ❜ ❨538❩ ❛ Take your time, leave mine alone. ❜ ❨539❩ ❛ You will hear thunder and remember me. ❜ ❨540❩ ❛ If you were music, I would listen to you ceaselessly. ❜ ❨541❩ ❛ I seem to myself an accidental guest in this dreadful body. ❜ ❨542❩ ❛ Call me a sinner, mock me maliciously. ❜ ❨543❩ ❛ I, from the very beginning, seemed to myself like someone's dream or delirium. Or a reflection in someone else's mirror. Without flesh, without meaning, without a name. ❜ ❨544❩ ❛ I knew the list of crimes that I was destined to commit. ❜ ❨545❩ ❛ The future ripens in the past, so the past rots in the future. ❜ ❨546❩ ❛ You are untranslatable into any one tongue. ❜ ❨547❩ ❛ I was hoping my silence would fit yours. ❜ ❨548❩ ❛ See, we were never about butterflies. All about us is unearthly and radiant. ❜ ❨549❩ ❛ You do not know just what you've been forgiven. ❜ ❨550❩ ❛ I need to slaughter my memory.  ❜ ❨551❩ ❛ Forgive me that I appeared to you in waking dreams. ❜ ❨552❩ ❛ I will condemn, I will forget, I will give comfort to the enemy. ❜ ❨553❩ ❛ I know beginnings, I know endings too, and life-in-death. ❜ ❨554❩ ❛ Wild honey smells of freedom. But gold smells of nothing. ❜ ❨555❩ ❛ You are three times more beautiful than angels. ❜ ❨556❩ ❛ I will kill you without spilling your blood on the ground, not touching you with my hand, not giving you one glance. ❜ ❨557❩ ❛ You invented me. There is no such earthly being. ❜ ❨558❩ ❛ You’re late. Way too late. I’m glad to see you, nonetheless. ❜ ❨559❩ ❛ Forgive me that I felt forsaken. Forgive me that I kept mistaking too many others for you. ❜ ❨560❩ ❛ Real tenderness can’t be confused, it’s quiet and can’t be heard. ❜ ❨561❩ ❛ What else lived in that house besides us? ❜ ❨562❩ ❛ How unhappy we are together! ❜ ❨563❩ ❛ I defend not my voice, but my silence. ❜ ❨564❩ ❛ Without love, I'm more at ease, I'm sure. ❜ ❨565❩ ❛ I've got no more tears or explanations. ❜ ❨566❩ ❛ I’m not complaining. Happiness is not for me. ❜ ❨567❩ ❛ Are you not the only tie between good and evil, earthly pits and paradise? ❜ ❨568❩ ❛ In the morning we shall find out who has died in the night. ❜ ❨569❩ ❛ I was not a lovable child, and I've grown into a deeply unlovable adult. ❜ ❨570❩ ❛ The truly frightening flaw in humanity is our capacity for cruelty - we all have it. ❜ ❨571❩ ❛ I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ. Slit me at my belly and it might slide out, meaty and dark. ❜ ❨572❩ ❛ I am not angry or sad or happy to see you. I could not give a shit. You don't even ripple. ❜ ❨573❩ ❛ I was raised feral, and I mostly stayed that way. ❜ ❨574❩ ❛ I can feel a better version of me somewhere in there - hidden behind a liver or attached to a bit of spleen. But the meanness usually wins out. ❜ ❨575❩ ❛ I felt something loosen in me, that shouldn't have loosened. A stitch come undone. ❜ ❨576❩ ❛ Everyone who keeps a secret, itches to tell it. ❜ ❨577❩ ❛ Coffee goes great with sudden death. ❜ ❨578❩ ❛ I should just listen to my gut and then do the opposite. ❜ ❨579❩ ❛ “Smile, it can't be that bad!” Yeah, actually, it can, jackwad. ❜ ❨580❩ ❛ Everything bad in the world already did happen. ❜ ❨581❩ ❛ You’re going to find peace? Like knowing is somehow going to fix you? ❜ ❨582❩ ❛ Instead of asking yourself what happened, just accept that it happened. ❜ ❨583❩ ❛ Homesick for a place I've never been. ❜ ❨584❩ ❛ Worries find you easily enough without inviting them. ❜ ❨585❩ ❛ It is always consoling to think of suicide. It's what gets one through many a bad night. ❜ ❨586❩ ❛ Do you understand this is serious? ❜ ❨587❩ ❛ Sometimes it feels good to fuck with something. Instead of always being fucked with. ❜ ❨588❩ ❛ How could you kill something you cared enough to name? ❜ ❨589❩ ❛ Draw a picture of my soul, and it’d be a scribble with fangs. ❜ ❨590❩ ❛ We have the same chemicals in our blood: shame, anger, greed. Unjustified nostalgia. ❜ ❨591❩ ❛ I appreciate a straightforward apology the way a tone-deaf person enjoys a fine piece of music. ❜ ❨592❩ ❛ The phrase fuck you may not rest on the tip of my tongue, but it’s near. Midtongue. ❜ ❨593❩ ❛ Nothing to it but to do it. ❜ ❨594❩ ❛ There are a lot of people who deserve a lesson, deserve to really understand, that nothing comes easy, that most things are going to go sour. ❜ ❨595❩ ❛ If ifs and buts were candies and nuts we’d all have a very Merry Christmas. ❜ ❨596❩ ❛ Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. ❜ ❨597❩ ❛ What does it do to a girl who knows her mother is a murderer? ❜ ❨598❩ ❛ That mean old bitch across the street bit it. ❜ ❨599❩ ❛ Survival is a talent. ❜ ❨600❩ ❛ Crazy isn't being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It’s you or me amplified. If you ever told a lie and enjoyed it. If you ever wished you could be a child forever. ❜ ❨601❩ ❛ Who has the courage to burn themselves? ❜ ❨602❩ ❛ Is insanity just a matter of dropping the act? ❜ ❨603❩ ❛ Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought your train moving while sitting still? ❜ ❨604❩ ❛ You need to be well fed, clothed, and housed to have time for this much self-pity. ❜ ❨605❩ ❛ When I am supposed to be awake, I am asleep; when I am supposed to speak, I am silent. When a pleasure offers itself to me, I avoid it. ❜ ❨606❩ ❛ There is thought, and then there is thinking about thoughts, and they don't feel the same. ❜ ❨607❩ ❛ In a strange way we are free. We've reached the end of the line. We have nothing more to lose. ❜ ❨608❩ ❛ The world won’t stop because we aren’t in it anymore. ❜ ❨609❩ ❛ I can't answer the real question. All I can tell you is, it's easy. ❜ ❨610❩ ❛ I am lighter, airier than I’ve been in years. ❜ ❨611❩ ❛ I am not dead, yet something in me definitely is. ❜ ❨612❩ ❛ You meant that as an insult but I am taking it as a compliment. ❜ ❨613❩ ❛ What life can recover from that? ❜ ❨614❩ ❛ It's a fairly accurate portrait of me. It's accurate but it isn't profound. ❜ ❨615❩ ❛ Pull yourself together! There's nothing wrong with you. ❜ ❨616❩ ❛ It's quiet. It's like― I don't know. It's like falling off a cliff. ❜ ❨617❩ ❛ Once you start parsing a face, it's a peculiar item: squishy, pointy, with lots of air vents and wet spots. ❜ ❨618❩ ❛ I lost him. I did it on purpose. ❜ ❨619❩ ❛ It’s a mean world. There’s nobody to take care of you out there. ❜ ❨620❩ ❛ Reality is getting too dense. ❜ ❨621❩ ❛ I'm ambivalent. In fact that's my new favourite word. ❜ ❨622❩ ❛ I can't come up with reassuring answers to the terrible questions you raise. ❜ ❨623❩ ❛ A spring day, the sort that gives people hope: all soft winds and delicate smells of warm earth. Suicide weather. ❜ ❨624❩ ❛ Twenty-five chocolate chip cookies would be the perfect dinner. ❜ ❨625❩ ❛ A thought is a hard thing to control. ❜ ❨626❩ ❛ Life demands skills I don’t have. ❜ ❨627❩ ❛ Light like this does not exist, but we wish it did. We wish the sun could make us young and beautiful. Most of all, we wish that everyone we knew could be brightened simply by our looking at them. ❜ ❨628❩ ❛ It never stops, even at night, it’s my lullaby. ❜ ❨629❩ ❛ Love blurs your vision; but after it recedes, you can see more clearly than ever. ❜ ❨630❩ ❛ This is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes. ❜ ❨631❩ ❛ I have done something wrong, something so huge I can't even see it, something that's drowning me. ❜ ❨632❩ ❛ Whatever is happening to me is my own fault. ❜ ❨633❩ ❛ Hatred is easier. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love. ❜ ❨634❩ ❛ Potential has a shelf life. ❜ ❨635❩ ❛ Don’t move. Stay like that, let me have that. ❜ ❨636❩ ❛ I have come to the edge, of the land. I could get pushed over. ❜ ❨637❩ ❛ Never pray for justice, because you might get some. ❜ ❨638❩ ❛ It disturbs me to learn I have hurt someone unintentionally. I want all my hurts to be intentional. ❜ ❨639❩ ❛ We have been shark to one another, but also lifeboat. That counts for something. ❜ ❨640❩ ❛ This is what I miss, not something that’s gone, but something that will never happen. ❜ ❨641❩ ❛ I am not good. I know too much to be good. I know myself. I know myself to be vengeful, greedy, secretive and sly. ❜ ❨642❩ ❛ You are amazing. Amazing and agonising and almost lethal. ❜ ❨643❩ ❛ In my dreams of this city I am always lost. ❜ ❨644❩ ❛ I don't know where these feelings have come from, I don’t know what I've done. ❜ ❨645❩ ❛ I am not the centre of your story, you are.  ❜ ❨646❩ ❛ I’m mad because you’re an asshole. ❜ ❨647❩ ❛ It's enormously pleasing to me, walking away. It's like being able to make people appear and vanish, at will. ❜ ❨648❩ ❛ There is never only one of anyone. ❜ ❨649❩ ❛ I can't do this without feeling I'm acting. ❜ ❨650❩ ❛ I am prepared for almost anything; except absence, except silence. ❜ ❨651❩ ❛ I’m losing my appetite for strangers. ❜ ❨652❩ ❛ You wear your cravings on the outside, like the suckers on a squid. You want it all. ❜ ❨653❩ ❛ Knowing too much about other people weakens you. You are forced to understand their reasons for doing things. ❜ ❨654❩ ❛ I have lost confidence: perhaps all I will ever be is what I am now. ❜ ❨655❩ ❛ Echoes of light, shining out of the midst of nothing. It's old light, and there's not much of it. But it's enough to see by. ❜ ❨656❩ ❛ Whoever cares the most will lose. ❜ ❨657❩ ❛ Young women need unfairness, it’s one of their few defences.  ❜ ❨658❩ ❛ Time has gone on without you. ❜ ❨659❩ ❛ Don't let the bastards grind you down. ❜ ❨660❩ ❛ Who can remember pain, once it’s over? Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind. ❜ ❨661❩ ❛ Better never means better for everyone. It always means worse, for some. ❜ ❨662❩ ❛ There is more than one kind of freedom. Freedom to and freedom from. ❜ ❨663❩ ❛ Remember that forgiveness too is a power. ❜ ❨664❩ ❛ I am not your justification for existence. ❜ ❨665❩ ❛ I want to be valued, in ways that I am not; I want to be more than valuable. ❜ ❨666❩ ❛ If it's a story I'm telling, then I have control over the ending. ❜ ❨667❩ ❛ All you have to do is keep your mouth shut and look stupid. It shouldn't be that hard. ❜ ❨668❩ ❛ Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations. ❜ ❨669❩ ❛ I want everything back, the way it was. ❜ ❨670❩ ❛ You can't help what you feel, but you can help how you behave. ❜ ❨671❩ ❛ Nothing changes instantaneously: in a gradually heating bathtub you'd be boiled to death before you knew it. ❜ ❨672❩ ❛ To want is to have a weakness. ❜ ❨673❩ ❛ There isn't even an enemy you could put your finger on. ❜ ❨674❩ ❛ The past is a great darkness, filled with echoes. ❜ ❨675❩ ❛ Ordinary is what you are used to. This may not seem ordinary to you now, but after a time it will. It will become ordinary. ❜ ❨676❩ ❛ I wish this story were different. I wish it were more civilised. I wish it showed me in a better light. ❜ ❨677❩ ❛ The night is mine, my own time, to do with it as I will, as long as I am quiet. As long as I don't move. As long as I lie still. ❜ ❨678❩ ❛ By telling you anything at all I'm at least believing in you. ❜ ❨679❩ ❛ Whatever is silenced will clamour to be heard. ❜ ❨680❩ ❛ Don't worry about forgiving me right now. There are more important things. ❜ ❨681❩ ❛ Keep the others safe. Don't let them suffer too much. If they have to die, let it be fast. ❜ ❨682❩ ❛ The body is so easily damaged, so easily disposed of, water and chemicals is all it is, hardly more to it than a jellyfish, drying on sand. ❜ ❨683❩ ❛ The world is full of weapons if you're looking for them. ❜ ❨684❩ ❛ Nobody's heart is perfect. ❜ ❨685❩ ❛ One false move and I'm dead. ❜ ❨686❩ ❛ Watch out. I've got my eye on you. ❜ ❨687❩ ❛ Fear is a powerful stimulant. ❜ ❨688❩ ❛ I couldn't afford to lose you. ❜ ❨689❩ ❛ Name one hero who was happy. ---- You can’t. ❜ ❨690❩ ❛ I feel like I could eat the world raw. ❜ ❨691❩ ❛ We are like gods at the dawning of the world. ❜ ❨692❩ ❛ I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world. ❜ ❨693❩ ❛ There are no bargains between lion and men. I will kill you and eat you raw. ❜ ❨694❩ ❛ You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature. ❜ ❨695❩ ❛ He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. ❜ ❨696❩ ❛ Some men gain glory after they die, others fade. ❜ ❨697❩ ❛ I am made of memories. ❜ ❨698❩ ❛ Will you come with me? ❜ ❨699❩ ❛ I wish I had let you all die. ❜ ❨700❩ ❛ It is right to seek peace for the dead. You and I both know there is no peace for those who live after. ❜ ❨701❩ ❛ Bury us. Let us be free. ❜ ❨702❩ ❛ Go. He waits for you. ❜ ❨703❩ ❛ Nothing could eclipse the stain of this dirty, mortal mediocrity. ❜ ❨704❩ ❛ I know I have told you of this. ❜ ❨705❩ ❛ I don't know how you remember them all. I swear they look the same to me. ❜ ❨706❩ ❛ Perhaps you should get some new stories, so I don’t fucking kill myself of boredom. ❜ ❨707❩ ❛ I yearn for the darkness and silence of the underworld, where I can rest. ❜ ❨708❩ ❛ There is no honour in betraying your friends. ❜ ❨709❩ ❛ There is no answer. Whichever you choose, you are wrong. ❜ ❨710❩ ❛ Divine blood flows differently. ❜ ❨711❩ ❛ How is there glory in taking life? We die so easily. ❜ ❨712❩ ❛ This is what I will miss, I think. I will kill myself rather than miss it. ❜ ❨713❩ ❛ How long do we have? ❜ ❨714❩ ❛ Do you think we fight hopeless wars? ❜ ❨715❩ ❛ There is no law that gods must be fair. ❜ ❨716❩ ❛ I do not fear ridicule. I never have. ❜ ❨717❩ ❛ You were always better with words than I. ❜ ❨718❩ ❛ Who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? ❜ ❨719❩ ❛ When you see beauty in desolation it changes something inside you. ❜ ❨720❩ ❛ That's how the madness of the world tries to colonise you: from the outside in, forcing you to live in its reality. ❜ ❨721❩ ❛ The shadows of the abyss are like the petals of a monstrous flower that shall blossom within the skull and expand the mind beyond what any man can bear. ❜ ❨722❩ ❛ Silence creates violence. ❜ ❨723❩ ❛ Some questions will ruin you if you are denied the answer long enough. ❜ ❨724❩ ❛ There are certain kinds of connections that are so deep that when broken you feel the snap of it inside you. ❜ ❨725❩ ❛ Nothing that ever lived and breathed was truly objective—even in a vacuum, even if all that possessed the brain was a self-immolating desire for the truth. ❜ ❨726❩ ❛ We all live in a kind of continuous dream. ❜ ❨727❩ ❛ You can either waste time worrying about a death that might not come or concentrate on what’s left to you. ❜ ❨728❩ ❛ What can you do when your five senses are not enough? ❜ ❨729❩ ❛ We will neither be what we had been nor what we would become once we reach our destination. ❜ ❨730❩ ❛ Perhaps my only real expertise, my only talent, is to endure beyond the endurable. ❜ ❨731❩ ❛ When you are too close to the centre of a mystery there is no way to pull back. ❜ ❨732❩ ❛ I long ago stopped believing in promises. Biological imperatives, yes. Environmental factors, yes. Promises, no. ❜ ❨733❩ ❛ I look not for shooting stars but for fixed ones, and I try to imagine what kind of life lives in those celestial tidal pools so far from us. ❜ ❨734❩ ❛ I hesitated for just a moment. Some part of me wanted to see the creature, I think. If so, it was a very small part. I ran. ❜ ❨735❩ ❛ I don’t require any of this to have a deeper meaning. ❜ ❨736❩ ❛ All of this speculation is incomplete, inexact, inaccurate, useless. ❜ ❨737❩ ❛ We don’t have real answers, because we still don’t know what questions to ask. Our instruments are useless, our methodology broken, our motivations selfish. ❜ ❨738❩ ❛ This part I will do alone. Don’t follow. ❜ ❨739❩ ❛ People my entire life have told me I am too much in control, but that has never been the case. I have never truly been in control. ❜ ❨740❩ ❛ Has there always been someone like me to bury the bodies, to have regrets, to carry on after everyone else was dead? ❜ ❨741❩ ❛ I loved them, but I didn’t need them, and I thought that was the way it was supposed to be. ❜ ❨742❩ ❛ Places can impress themselves upon me, and I can become part of them with ease. ❜ ❨743❩ ❛ There is no one with me. I am all by myself. ❜ ❨744❩ ❛ Pretending often leads to becoming a reasonable facsimile of what you mimic. ❜ ❨745❩ ❛ I think you're confusing suicide with self-destruction, and they're very different. Almost none of us commit suicide, whereas almost all of us self-destruct. ❜ ❨746❩ ❛ What did you eat? You had rations for only two weeks. You were there for nearly four months. ❜ ❨747❩ ❛ Something here is making giant waves in the gene pool. ❜ ❨748❩ ❛ I need to know what’s inside. ❜ ❨749❩ ❛ These aren't decisions. They're impulses ❜ ❨750❩ ❛ What do you think I do when you’re away? Do you think I’m out in the garden pinning, looking up at the sky? ❜ ❨751❩ ❛ If I know what’s happened I can save their life. ❜ ❨752❩ ❛ They either went crazy or something in here killed them. ❜ ❨753❩ ❛ Something is coming through the fence! ❜ ❨754❩ ❛ Nothing is written in the stars. Not these stars, nor any others. No one controls your destiny. ❜ ❨755❩ ❛ People who claim that they're evil are usually no worse than the rest of us. ❜ ❨756❩ ❛ Happy endings are still endings. ❜ ❨757❩ ❛ We believe in all sorts of things that aren't true; -- we call it history. ❜ ❨758❩ ❛ Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil? ❜ ❨759❩ ❛ In the lives of children, pumpkins turn into coaches, mice and rats turn into men. When we grow up, we realise it is far more common for men to turn into rats. ❜ ❨760❩ ❛ Girls need cold anger. They need the cold simmer, the ceaseless grudge, the talent to avoid forgiveness, the side stepping of compromise.  ❜ ❨761❩ ❛ Love makes hunters of us all. ❜ ❨762❩ ❛ There is much to hate in this world and way too much to love. ❜ ❨763❩ ❛ You confuse not speaking with not listening. ❜ ❨764❩ ❛ As long as people are going to call you a lunatic anyway, why not get the benefit of it? It liberates you from convention. ❜ ❨765❩ ❛ The eye is always caught by light, but shadows have more to say. ❜ ❨766❩ ❛ Not everyone is born a witch or a saint. Not everyone is born talented, or crooked, or blessed; some are born definite in no particular at all. ❜ ❨767❩ ❛ We are a fountain of shimmering contradictions, most of us. ❜ ❨768❩ ❛ The wickedness of men is that their power breeds stupidity and blindness. ❜ ❨769❩ ❛ I know you don't want to hear this but someone has to say it! You are out of control! ❜ ❨770❩ ❛ Even at the very worst - there is always choice. ❜ ❨771❩ ❛ Maybe the definition of home is the place where you are never forgiven. So you may always belong there, bound by guilt. And maybe the cost of belonging is worth it. ❜ ❨772❩ ❛ Cross a man and you struggle, one of you wins, you adjust and go on -- or you lie there dead. Cross a woman and the entire universe is changed. ❜ ❨773❩ ❛ That was such a wonderful time, even in its strangeness and sadness. Life isn't the same now. It's wonderful, but it isn't the same. ❜ ❨774❩ ❛ I don't care for approval, and I don't mind doing without. ❜ ❨775❩ ❛ It's where I live. A permanent state of bereavement. This is nothing new. ❜ ❨776❩ ❛ Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Always the godfather, never the god. ❜ ❨777❩ ❛ The world unwraps itself to you, again and again as soon as you are ready to see it anew. ❜ ❨778❩ ❛ Evil is an act, not an appetite. Everyone has the appetite. If you give in to it, that act is evil. The appetite is normal. ❜ ❨779❩ ❛ How many haven't wanted to slash the throat of some boor across the dining room table?  ❜ ❨780❩ ❛ Even God used silence as a strategy. ❜ ❨781❩ ❛ I learned failure early and mastered it. ❜ ❨782❩ ❛ It isn't whether you do it well or ill, it's that you do it all. ❜ ❨783❩ ❛ This is why you shouldn't fall in love, it blinds you. Love is a very wicked distraction. ❜ ❨784❩ ❛ Wisdom is not the understanding of mystery. Wisdom is accepting that mystery is beyond understanding. That's what makes it mystery. ❜ ❨785❩ ❛ Wrong takes an awful long time to be proven, in my experience. ❜ ❨786❩ ❛ Such brightness, as you know, decays brilliantly. ❜ ❨787❩ ❛ I take responsibility only for the future, not the past. The past can't hurt you the way the future can. ❜ ❨788❩ ❛ Tell me to mind my own business, tell me to go fuck myself, to piss off, go on, say it, but don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. ❜ ❨789❩ ❛ The truth isn't a thing of fact or reason. It is simply what everyone agrees on. ❜ ❨790❩ ❛ One can't make peace with another by force. ❜ ❨791❩ ❛ I am a forgettable leaf on a tree. ❜ ❨792❩ ❛ That's all I want; --- to do no harm. ❜ ❨793❩ ❛ I only believe in the opposite of luck, whatever that is. ❜ ❨794❩ ❛ Human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves. ❜ ❨795❩ ❛ You’re too young to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and thanks to that we manage to endure the burden of the past. ❜ ❨796❩ ❛ Love, no matter what else it might be, is a natural talent. You are either born knowing how, or you never know. ❜ ❨797❩ ❛ Whatever you do, you will be sorry all the rest of your life. ❜ ❨798❩ ❛ There is no God worth worrying about. ❜ ❨799❩ ❛ The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love. ❜ ❨800❩ ❛ Wisdom comes to us when it can no longer do any good. ❜ ❨801❩ ❛ Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the very end in itself. ❜ ❨802❩ ❛ Only God knows how much I love you. ❜ ❨803❩ ❛ There is no greater glory than to die for love. ❜ ❨804❩ ❛ Nothing resembles a person as much as the way he dies. ❜ ❨805❩ ❛ Take advantage of it now, while you are young, and suffer all you can, because these things don't last your whole life. ❜ ❨806❩ ❛ Today, when I saw you, I realised that what is between us is nothing more than an illusion. ❜ ❨807❩ ❛ I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century. ❜ ❨808❩ ❛ I want to be myself again, to recover all that I was obliged to give up. ❜ ❨809❩ ❛ The only thing worse than bad health is a bad name. ❜ ❨810❩ ❛ This soup tastes like windows. ❜ ❨811❩ ❛ Why do you insist on talking about what does not exist? ❜ ❨812❩ ❛ One has to live a long time to know a man's true nature. ❜ ❨813❩ ❛ No, not rich, I am a poor man with money, which is not the same thing. ❜ ❨814❩ ❛ My heart has more rooms than a whorehouse. ❜ ❨815❩ ❛ That may be the reason he does so many things, so that he will not have to think. ❜ ❨816❩ ❛ Love if it exists, is something separate: another life. ❜ ❨817❩ ❛ Things did not go as badly for me as they would for you. ❜ ❨818❩ ❛ There are things you do only for love. ❜ ❨819❩ ❛ I’ll have plenty of time to rest when I die. ❜ ❨820❩ ❛ There is no innocence more dangerous than the innocence of age. ❜ ❨821❩ ❛ You treat me as if I were just anybody. ❜ ❨822❩ ❛ The symptoms of love are the same as those of cholera. ❜ ❨823❩ ❛ There is no law, human or divine, that you have not ignored. ❜ ❨824❩ ❛ Why is it that I feel I've known you so many years? ❜ ❨825❩ ❛ Stuff your eyes with wonder, live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. ❜ ❨826❩ ❛ It doesn't matter what you do, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away. ❜ ❨827❩ ❛ We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real? ❜ ❨828❩ ❛ There must be something, something we can’t imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there. You don’t stay for nothing. ❜ ❨829❩ ❛ If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you and you'll never learn. ❜ ❨830❩ ❛ If you drown, at least die knowing you were heading for shore. ❜ ❨831❩ ❛ You can't make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up around them. ❜ ❨832❩ ❛ It was a pleasure to burn. ❜ ❨833❩ ❛ I'm antisocial, they say. I don't mix. It's so strange. I'm very social indeed. It all depends on what you mean by social, doesn't it? ❜ ❨834❩ ❛ Being with people is nice. But I don't think it's social to get a bunch of people together and then not let them talk, do you? ❜ ❨835❩ ❛ Do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays? ❜ ❨836❩ ❛ Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man? ❜ ❨837❩ ❛ I don't talk things. I talk the meaning of things. ❜ ❨838❩ ❛ I'll hold on to the world tight some day. I've got one finger on it now; that's a beginning. ❜ ❨839❩ ❛ I just want someone to hear what I have to say. And maybe if I talk long enough it'll make sense. ❜ ❨840❩ ❛ That's the good part of dying; when you've nothing to lose, you run any risk you want. ❜ ❨841❩ ❛ Someday we'll build the biggest goddamn steamshovel in history and dig the biggest grave of all time and shove war in it and cover it up. ❜ ❨842❩ ❛ You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I know. When I talk, you look at me. ❜ ❨843❩ ❛ You're afraid of making mistakes. Don't be. Mistakes can be profited by. ❜ ❨844❩ ❛ When they give you lined paper, write the other way. ❜ ❨845❩ ❛ The sun burnt every day. It burnt time. ❜ ❨846❩ ❛ We have everything we need to be happy but we aren't happy. Something is missing. ❜ ❨847❩ ❛ I feel I'm doing what I should've done a lifetime ago. ❜ ❨848❩ ❛ I'm not afraid. Maybe it's because I'm doing the right thing at last. Maybe it's because I've done a rash thing and don't want to look the coward to you. ❜ ❨849❩ ❛ Good God, who were those men? I never saw them before in my life! ❜ ❨850❩ ❛ How do you get so empty? Who takes it out of you? ❜ ❨851❩ ❛ It must be right. It seems so right. ❜ ❨852❩ ❛ To everything there is a season. Yes. A time to break down, and a time to build up. A time to keep silence and a time to speak. ❜ ❨853❩ ❛ It's my game. And no one can help me. Not even you. ❜ ❨854❩ ❛ What makes earth feel like hell is our expectation that it should feel like heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. ❜ ❨855❩ ❛ Death is a long process. Your body is just the first part of you that croaks. Beyond that, your dreams have to die. Then your expectations. Your anger and memories must die. Your ego. Your pride and shame and ambition and hope. ❜ ❨856❩ ❛ Help me give up my addiction to hope. ❜ ❨857❩ ❛ Life is short, death is forever. ❜ ❨858❩ ❛ Hope is something really tough and tenacious you have to give up. It’s an addiction to break. ❜ ❨859❩ ❛ If the living are haunted by the dead, then the dead are haunted by their own mistakes. ❜ ❨860❩ ❛ We all wish to be pursued. We all long to be desired. ❜ ❨861❩ ❛ All the demons of hell formerly reigned as gods in previous cultures. No it's not fair, but one man's god is another man's devil. ❜ ❨862❩ ❛ I can become someone else, not out of pressure and desperation, but merely because a new life sounds fun or interesting or joyful. ❜ ❨863❩ ❛ It's my petty fear of personal rejection that allows so many true evils to exist. My cowardice enables atrocities. ❜ ❨864❩ ❛ You fucked up. Game over. So just relax. ❜ ❨865❩ ❛ The greatest weapon any warrior can carry into battle is absolute certainty of her eternal soul. ❜ ❨866❩ ❛ If killing you will end my existence as well, be it. Small loss. Such a life, as your puppet, is not worth living. ❜ ❨867❩ ❛ I might be a touch of a sadist and a little bit jejune but at least I'm not a victim, not any longer. I hope. ❜ ❨868❩ ❛ Dying seems like the greatest weakness, and in a world where people say you're lazy for not shaving your legs, then being dead seems like the ultimate character flaw. ❜ ❨869❩ ❛ Any concept of right versus wrong, is merely a cultural construct relative to one specific time and place. ❜ ❨870❩ ❛ To prove that I exist I must kill you. ❜ ❨871❩ ❛ I'd say that my life has been a way-too-long case history of chasing rainbows. ❜ ❨872❩ ❛ The world is a battle for attention, a war to be heard. ❜ ❨873❩ ❛ Every garden looks beautiful in May. ❜ ❨874❩ ❛ When we neglect to fear such brittle monstrosity, we render it powerless. ❜ ❨875❩ ❛ My taste for power continues to grow, as does my ability to accrue it. ❜ ❨876❩ ❛ Such language! Why don't you just take a dump in my ears? ❜ ❨877❩ ❛ You’d be foolish to count on people displaying high standards of honesty. ❜ ❨878❩ ❛ Depending on her mood, she can be more frightening than any demon or devil you might ever run across. ❜ ❨879❩ ❛ Cross your fingers! Maybe death won't happen to you. ❜ ❨880❩ ❛ Do not die while wearing cheap shoes. ❜ ❨881❩ ❛ Old habits die hard. ❜ ❨882❩ ❛ It's our attachments to a fixed identity that torture us. ❜ ❨883❩ ❛ What do I think I am? In a thousand words; I don't have a clue. ❨884❩ ❛ If I am to be saved it is because your love redeems me. ❜ ❨885❩ ❛ All I wanted was to be loved for myself. ❜ ❨886❩ ❛ I have tasted all the happiness the world can offer. ❜ ❨887❩ ❛ Shall we pity him? Shall we curse him? ❜ ❨888❩ ❛ You have a heart that can hold the entire empire of the world. ❜ ❨889❩ ❛ Look, I am not laughing now, crying, crying for you. ❜ ❨890❩ ❛ Tonight I gave you my soul, and I am dead. ❜ ❨891❩ ❛ You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! ❜ ❨892❩ ❛ Are people so unhappy when they love? --- Yes, when they love and are not sure of being loved. ❜ ❨893❩ ❛ Your soul is a beautiful thing. No emperor received so fair a gift. The angels wept tonight. ❜ ❨894❩ ❛ Blood!...Blood!... That's a good thing! ❜ ❨895❩ ❛ Now I want to live like everybody else. I want to have a life like everybody else. ❜ ❨896❩ ❛ You will be the happiest of women. And we will sing, all by ourselves, till we swoon away with delight. ❜ ❨897❩ ❛ I should be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do anything with me that you pleased. ❜ ❨898❩ ❛ I am going to die of love, I am dying of love. That's how it is. I loved you so. I still love you so. ❜ ❨899❩ ❛ I am dying of love for her, I tell you! If only you knew how beautiful she was when she let me kiss her. ❜ ❨900❩ ❛ He fills me with horror but I do not hate him. How can I hate him? ❜ ❨901❩ ❛ Holy angel, in Heaven blessed, my spirit longs with thee to rest. ❜ ❨902❩ ❛ Nothing is colder or more dead than my heart. ❜ ❨903❩ ❛ I had loved an angel and now I despise a woman. ❜ ❨904❩ ❛ Our lives are one masked ball. ❜ ❨905❩ ❛ Why do you condemn a man whom you have never met, whom no one knows and about whom even you yourself know nothing? ❜ ❨906❩ ❛ He would commit murder for me. ❜ ❨907❩ ❛ If I don't save her from the hands of that humbug, she is lost. But I shall save her. ❜ ❨908❩ ❛ We will go from here together or die together. ❜ ❨909❩ ❛ Your fear, your terror, all of that is just love and love of the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves. The kind that gives you a thrill, when you think of it. ❜ ❨910❩ ❛ Destiny has chained you to me forever. ❜ ❨911❩ ❛ You must never ask me that. ❜ ❨912❩ ❛ Are you afraid that you will change your mind? ❜ ❨913❩ ❛ You must come and fetch me in my dressing room at midnight exactly. ❜ ❨914❩ ❛ The holes in your life are permanent. You have to grow around them, like tree roots around concrete; you mould yourself through the gaps. ❜ ❨915❩ ❛ I have never understood how people can blithely disregard the damage they do by following their hearts. ❜ ❨916❩ ❛ There’s something comforting about the sight of strangers safe at home. ❜ ❨917❩ ❛ I have lost control over everything, even the places in my head. ❜ ❨918❩ ❛ It’s possible to miss what you’ve never had, to even mourn for it. ❜ ❨919❩ ❛ There’s nothing so painful, so corrosive, as suspicion. ❜ ❨920❩ ❛ When did you become so weak? ❜ ❨921❩ ❛ I don’t know where that strength went, I don’t remember losing it. I think that over time it got chipped away, bit by bit, by life, by the living of it. ❜ ❨922❩ ❛ Let’s be honest: women are still only really valued for two things—their looks and their role as mothers. ❜ ❨923❩ ❛ Sadness gets boring after a while, for the sad person and for everyone around them. ❜ ❨924❩ ❛ I’m playing at real life instead of actually living it. ❜ ❨925❩ ❛ I’ve just got to let myself feel the pain, because if I don’t, if I keep numbing it, it’ll never really go away. ❜ ❨926❩ ❛ I am not the girl I used to be. I am no longer desirable, I’m off-putting in some way. It’s as if people can see the damage written all over me, can see it in my face, the way I hold myself, the way I move. ❜ ❨927❩ ❛ Who was it that said following your heart is a good thing? It is pure egotism, a selfishness to conquer all. ❜ ❨928❩ ❛ It’s impossible to resist the kindness of strangers. ❜ ❨929❩ ❛ Sometimes I catch myself trying to remember the last time I had meaningful physical contact with another person, just a hug or a heartfelt squeeze of my hand, and my heart twitches. ❜ ❨930❩ ❛ I have to find a way of making myself happy, I have to stop looking for happiness elsewhere. ❜ ❨931❩ ❛ How did I find myself here? I wonder where it started, my decline; I wonder at what point I could have halted it. Where did I take the wrong turn? ❜ ❨932❩ ❛ Now look -- Now look what you made me do. ❜ ❨933❩ ❛ It’s okay, whatever you did, whatever you’ve done: you suffered, you hurt, you deserve forgiveness. ❜ ❨934❩ ❛ They’re what I lost, they’re everything I want to be. ❜ ❨935❩ ❛ You broke me and I broke us. ❜ ❨936❩ ❛ I’ve been the fool. If he does it with you, he’ll do it to you. ❜ ❨937❩ ❛ I’d never realised, not until now, how shameful it is to be pitied. ❜ ❨938❩ ❛ Sometimes, I don’t want to go anywhere, I think I’ll be happy if I never have to set foot outside the house again. ❜ ❨939❩ ❛ I don’t believe in soul mates, but there’s an understanding between us that I just haven’t felt before, or at least, not for a long time. ❜ ❨940❩ ❛ There can be no greater agony, nothing can be more painful than the not knowing, which will never end. ❜ ❨941❩ ❛ Being the other woman is a huge turn-on, there’s no point in denying it: you’re the one he can’t help but betray his wife for, even though he loves her. That’s just how irresistible you are. ❜ ❨942❩ ❛ I feel a rush of gratitude so strong, it feels almost like love. ❜ ❨943❩ ❛ You don’t know how determined I can be. Once I’ve made my mind up, I’m a force to be reckoned with. ❜ ❨944❩ ❛ The more I want to be oblivious, the less I can be. Life and light will not let me be. ❜ ❨945❩ ❛ You don’t have to be afraid of being alone. It’s not the worst thing, is it? ❜ ❨946❩ ❛ I have felt this way before. On a larger scale, to a more intense degree, of course, but I remember the quality of the pain. You don’t forget it. ❜ ❨947❩ ❛ If he thinks I’m going to sit around crying, he’s got another thing coming. ❜ ❨948❩ ❛ I don’t like to lose. It’s not like me. None of this is like me. I don’t get rejected. I’m the one who walks away. ❜ ❨949❩ ❛ I don’t remember anger, raging fury. I remember fear. ❜ ❨950❩ ❛ I can’t sleep. I haven’t slept in days. I hate it, hate insomnia more than anything, just lying there, brain going round, tick, tick, tick, tick. ❜ ❨951❩ ❛ Maybe the courage I need has nothing to do with telling the truth and everything to do with walking away. ❜ ❨952❩ ❛ I’m not beautiful, and I can’t have kids, so what does that make me? Worthless. ❜ ❨953❩ ❛ Failure cloaked me like a mantle, it overwhelmed me, dragged me under and I gave up hope. ❜ ❨954❩ ❛ It’s an odd thing to say, but I think this all the time; I don’t feel bad enough. ❜ ❨955❩ ❛ Some battles aren’t worth fighting. ❜ ❨956❩ ❛ I never felt guilty. I pretended I did. I had to. ❜ ❨957❩ ❛ I never meant for any of this to happen, we fell in love, what could we do? ❜ ❨958❩ ❛ What bothers me most is that I haven’t got to the end of my story, and I can’t start over with someone else, it’s too hard. ❜ ❨959❩ ❛ A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended. ❜ ❨960❩ ❛ It isn’t only wickedness and scheming that make people unhappy, it is confusion and misunderstanding. ❜ ❨961❩ ❛ Falling in love can be achieved in a single word—a glance. ❜ ❨962❩ ❛ Though you think the world is at your feet, it can rise up and tread on you. ❜ ❨963❩ ❛ I’ve never had a moment’s doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life. ❜ ❨964❩ ❛ It might hurt, it is horribly inconvenient, no good might come of it, but it is what it is to be in love. ❜ ❨965❩ ❛ It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. ❜ ❨966❩ ❛ Come back, come back to me. ❜ ❨967❩ ❛ In my thoughts I make love to you all day long. ❜ ❨968❩ ❛ The truth is I feel rather light headed and foolish in your presence and I don’t think I can blame the heat. ❜ ❨969❩ ❛ Beauty occupies a narrow band. Ugliness, on the other hand, has infinite variation. ❜ ❨970❩ ❛ Is there any meaning in my life that the inevitable death awaiting me does not destroy? ❜ ❨971❩ ❛ However, withered, I still feel myself to be exactly the same person I’ve always been. ❜ ❨972❩ ❛ Hate is a feeling as pure as love, but dispassionate and icily rational. ❜ ❨973❩ ❛ I’m going mad. Let me not be mad. ❜ ❨974❩ ❛ Is everyone really as alive as I am? ❜ ❨975❩ ❛ Every now and then, quite unintentionally, someone teaches you something about yourself. ❜ ❨976❩ ❛ Something has happened, hasn’t it? ❜ ❨977❩ ❛ I like to think that it isn’t weakness or evasion, but a final act of kindness. ❜ ❨978❩ ❛ Is it possible that I am, in the modern term, in denial? ❜ ❨979❩ ❛ How could anyone presume to know the world through the eyes of an insect? ❜ ❨980❩ ❛ Not everything has a cause. Some things are simply so. ❜ ❨981❩ ❛ I’ll be quite honest with you. I’m torn between breaking your neck here and throwing you down the stairs. ❜ ❨982❩ ❛ How old do you have to be before you know the difference between right and wrong? ❜ ❨983❩ ❛ It was never meant to be read. ❜ ❨984❩ ❛ If I fell in the river, would you save me? ❜ ❨985❩ ❛ That was an incredibly bloody stupid thing to do. ❜ ❨986❩ ❛ I want to thank you for saving my life. I’ll be eternally grateful to you. ❜ ❨987❩ ❛ I’m very, very sorry for the terrible distress that I have caused. I’m very, very sorry. ❜ ❨988❩ ❛ Don’t call me that! – Please don’t call me that. ❜ ❨989❩ ❛ It may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it’s mine. ❜ ❨990❩ ❛ Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer. ❜ ❨991❩ ❛ No one ever really gets used to nightmares. ❜ ❨992❩ ❛ I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I’m not. ❜ ❨993❩ ❛ Sublime is something you choke on after a shot of tequila. ❜ ❨994❩ ❛ Some people reflect light, some deflect it, you by some miracle, seem to collect it. ❜ ❨995❩ ❛ Beautiful women are always drawn to men they think will keep them beautiful. ❜ ❨996❩ ❛ The ruminations are mine, let the world be yours. ❜ ❨997❩ ❛ You will fulfil a promise I made years ago but failed to keep. ❜ ❨998❩ ❛ Darkness never satisfies. Especially if it takes something away which it almost always invariably does. ❜ ❨999❩ ❛ I want something else. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore. ❜ ❨1000❩ ❛ What can I say, I’m a sucker for abandoned stuff, misplaced stuff, forgotten stuff, any old stuff. ❜ ❨1001❩ ❛ Is it possible to love something so much, you imagine it wants to destroy you only because it has denied you? ❜ ❨1002❩ ❛ It’s just silent, no sound at all. It’s like something’s waiting. ❜ ❨1003❩ ❛ I guess I’m hoping the weapons will make me feel better, grant me some kind of fucking control. ❜ ❨1004❩ ❛ Oh and something else: – Fuck you. ❜ ❨1005❩ ❛ God I’ve never been afraid like this. ❜ ❨1006❩ ❛ I miss you. I love you. There’s no second I’ve lived that you can’t call your own. ❜ ❨1007❩ ❛ I’m so tired. Sleep’s been stalking me for too long to remember. Inevitable I suppose. ❜ ❨1008❩ ❛ Not seeing the rip doesn’t mean you automatically get to keep clear of the Hey-I’m-Bleeding part. ❜ ❨1009❩ ❛ These days fantasies flourish and die like summer flies. ❜ ❨1010❩ ❛ Yeah I know, I know. This shit’s getting ridiculous. ❜ ❨1011❩ ❛ ‘Fuck’ and 'fall for’ have very different meanings. The first one you do as much as you can. The second one you never ever, ever do. ❜ ❨1012❩ ❛ It’s a nice idea but it reeks of hope. False hope. ❜ ❨1013❩ ❛ It’s, well…one thing in two words: fucked up…very fucked up. Okay three words, four words, who the hell cares…very very fucked up. ❜ ❨1014❩ ❛ Do you think I could spend the night at your place?  ❜ ❨1015❩ ❛ Any fool can pray. ❜ ❨1016❩ ❛ I feel like I haven’t slept in months. My neighbours are scared of me. ❜ ❨1017❩ ❛ I’ve lost my mind? Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe I’m just really drunk. ❜ ❨1018❩ ❛ Perhaps by cleaning out my system I’ll come to a clearing where I can ease myself into peace. ❜ ❨1019❩ ❛ I should be dead. Why am I still here? ❜ ❨1020❩ ❛ Fuck if I know. Your guess is as good as mine. ❜ ❨1021❩ ❛ You are my flesh. You are my bones. I know you too well. I read you too perfectly. ❜ ❨1022❩ ❛ Not all complex problems have easy solutions. ❜ ❨1023❩ ❛ Do you believe in God? I don’t think I ever asked you that one. ❜ ❨1024❩ ❛ We all create stories to protect ourselves. ❜ ❨1025❩ ❛ Are you kidding me? This place is scary. ❜ ❨1026❩ ❛ These days the only thing that gets me outside is when I say: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck this. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. ❜ ❨1027❩ ❛ You like that crap because it reminds you of you. ❜ ❨1028❩ ❛ You may suddenly realise things are not how you perceived them to be at all. ❜ ❨1029❩ ❛ The two hardest tests are the patience to wait for the right moment and the courage not to be disappointed with what we encounter. ❜ ❨1030❩ ❛ People never learn anything by being told, they have to find out for themselves. ❜ ❨1031❩ ❛ Be crazy! But learn how to be crazy without being the center of attention. Be brave enough to live different. ❜ ❨1032❩ ❛ You are someone who is different, but who wants to be the same as everyone else. And that in my view is a serious illness. ❜ ❨1033❩ ❛ God chose you to be different. ❜ ❨1034❩ ❛ Why are you disappointing God with this kind of attitude? ❜ ❨1035❩ ❛ You have two choices, to control your mind or to let your mind control you. ❜ ❨1036❩ ❛ Everyone is indeed crazy, but the craziest are the ones who don't know they're crazy; they just keep repeating what others tell them to. ❜ ❨1037❩ ❛ Haven't you learned anything, not even with the approach of death?  ❜ ❨1038❩ ❛ If people don't like it, they can complain. And if they don't have the courage to complain, that's their problem. ❜ ❨1039❩ ❛ Nothing in this world happens by chance. ❜ ❨1040❩ ❛ I want to continue living my life the way I dream it, and not the way the other people want it to be. ❜ ❨1041❩ ❛ Be like the fountain that overflows, not like the cistern that merely contains. ❜ ❨1042❩ ❛ Collective madness is called sanity. ❜ ❨1043❩ ❛ Consider each day a miracle - which indeed it is, when you consider the number of unexpected things that could happen in each second of our fragile existences. ❜ ❨1044❩ ❛ You say they create their own reality, but what is reality? ❜ ❨1045❩ ❛ Many people don't allow themselves to love because there are a lot of things at risk. A lot of future and a lot of past. ❜ ❨1046❩ ❛ Death frees from the fear of dying. ❜ ❨1047❩ ❛ The danger of an adventure is worth a thousand days of ease and comfort. ❜ ❨1048❩ ❛ The happier people can be, the unhappier they are. ❜ ❨1049❩ ❛ Life is always a matter of waiting for the right moment to act. ❜ ❨1050❩ ❛ It's best to accept life as it really is and not as you imagined it to be. ❜ ❨1051❩ ❛ You don't seem mad at all. ❜ ❨1052❩ ❛ We’re allowed to make a lot of mistakes in our lives, except the mistake that destroys us. ❜ ❨1053❩ ❛ You’re what you are, not what others make of you. ❜ ❨1054❩ ❛ Am I cured? ❜ ❨1055❩ ❛ Real love changes and grows with time and discovers new ways of expressing itself. ❜ ❨1056❩ ❛ A lot of people think something is right, and so that thing becomes right. Is that it? ❜ ❨1057❩ ❛ They think they're normal, because they all do the same thing. ❜ ❨1058❩ ❛ I didn't know that other ‘me’s existed inside me, ‘Me’s that I could love. ❜ ❨1059❩ ❛ I have no idea what's awaiting me. ❜ ❨1060❩ ❛ What will happen when this all ends? ❜ ❨1061❩ ❛ I know that you are capable of great deeds. ❜ ❨1062❩ ❛ A loveless world is a dead world, and always there comes an hour when one is weary of prisons, of one's work, and of devotion to duty, and all one craves for is a loved face, the warmth and wonder of a loving heart. ❜ ❨1063❩ ❛ The truth is that everyone is bored. ❜ ❨1064❩ ❛ I feel more fellowship with the defeated than with saints. Heroism and sanctity don't really appeal to me, I imagine. ❜ ❨1065❩ ❛ If there is one thing one can always yearn for, and sometimes attain, it is human love. ❜ ❨1066❩ ❛ Who would dare to assert that eternal happiness can compensate for even a single moment's suffering? ❜ ❨1067❩ ❛ It's not easy. I've been thinking it over for years. ❜ ❨1068❩ ❛ While we loved each other we didn't need words to make ourselves understood. ❜ ❨1069❩ ❛ People are more often bad than good. ❜ ❨1070❩ ❛ I don't believe in heroism; I know it's easy and I've learned that it can be murderous. ❜ ❨1071❩ ❛ What interests me is living and dying for what one loves. ❜ ❨1072❩ ❛ In fact, nobody is capable of really thinking about anyone, even in the worst calamity. ❜ ❨1073❩ ❛ Nothing in the world is worth turning one's back on what one loves. ❜ ❨1074❩ ❛ Again and again there comes a time in history when the man who dares to say that two and two make four is punished with death. ❜ ❨1075❩ ❛ There are more things to admire in men then to despise. ❜ ❨1076❩ ❛ It is in the thick of calamity that one gets hardened to the truth - in other words, to silence. ❜ ❨1077❩ ❛ What on earth prompted you to take a hand in this? ❜ ❨1078❩ ❛ Your code of morals? What code, if I may ask? ❜ ❨1079❩ ❛ I'm fumbling in the dark, struggling to make something out. But I've long ceased finding anything. ❜ ❨1080❩ ❛ No doubt our love is still there, but quite simply it is unusable, heavy to carry, inert inside of us, sterile as crime or condemnation. ❜ ❨1081❩ ❛ I’m not happy to go, but one needn't be happy to make another start. ❜ ❨1082❩ ❛ I am incapable of suffering for a long time, or being happy for a long time. Which means that I am incapable of anything really worth while. ❜ ❨1083❩ ❛ I should have found the words to keep her with me. ❜ ❨1084❩ ❛ We can't stir a finger in this world without the risk of bringing death to somebody. ❜ ❨1085❩ ❛ The evil that is in the world comes out of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence, if they lack understanding. ❜ ❨1086❩ ❛ There are always flies and itches. That’s why life is difficult to live. ❜ ❨1087❩ ❛ The best protection against anything is a good bottle of wine. ❜ ❨1088❩ ❛ There is no peace without hope. ❜ ❨1089❩ ❛ It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment. ❜ ❨1090❩ ❛ There is always something left to love. ❜ ❨1091❩ ❛ A person doesn’t die when he should but when he can. ❜ ❨1092❩ ❛ Things have a life of their own. It's simply a matter of waking up their souls. ❜ ❨1093❩ ❛ Tell me something: why are you fighting? ❜ ❨1094❩ ❛ I've come to realise only just now that I'm fighting because of pride. ❜ ❨1095❩ ❛ One minute of reconciliation is worth more than a whole life of friendship. ❜ ❨1096❩ ❛ It's better than not knowing why you're fighting. Or fighting, like you, for something that doesn't have any meaning for anyone. ❜ ❨1097❩ ❛ Holy Mother of God! ❜ ❨1098❩ ❛ A person does not belong to a place until there is someone dead under the ground. ❜ ❨1099❩ ❛ I was born a son of a bitch and I'm going to die a son of a bitch. ❜ ❨1100❩ ❛ Bad luck doesn't have any chinks in it. ❜ ❨1101❩ ❛ I plead youth as a mitigating circumstance. ❜ ❨1102❩ ❛ Get those bad thoughts out of your head. You're going to be happy. ❜ ❨1103❩ ❛ Children inherit their parents' madness. ❜ ❨1104❩ ❛ I'll turn to ashes in here but I won't give this miserable town the pleasure of seeing me weep. ❜ ❨1105❩ ❛ You would be good in a war. Where you put your eye, you put your bullet. ❜ ❨1106❩ ❛ Men demand much more than you think. ❜ ❨1107❩ ❛ Even the craziest and most persistent love is just a temporary truth. ❜ ❨1108❩ ❛ If we’re alone you can whisper in my ear any crap you can think of. ❜ ❨1109❩ ❛ You have taken this horrible game very seriously and you have done well because you are doing your duty. ❜ ❨1110❩ ❛ We have the right to pull down your pants and give you a whipping at the first sign of disrespect. ❜ ❨1111❩ ❛ What worries me is not your shooting me, because after all, for people like us it's a natural death. ❜ ❨1112❩ ❛ What worries me is that you've ended up as bad as they are. ❜ ❨1113❩ ❛ It is characteristic of men to deny hunger once their appetites are satisfied. ❜ ❨1114❩ ❛ Dying is much more difficult than one imagines. ❜ ❨1115❩ ❛ If you have to go crazy, please go crazy all by yourself! ❜ ❨1116❩ ❛ We have still not had a death. ❜ ❨1117❩ ❛ How awful, the way time passes. ❜ ❨1118❩ ❛ You may be in command of your war, but I'm in command of my house. ❜ ❨1119❩ ❛ I missed you every hour. ❜ ❨1120❩ ❛ You know what the worst part was? It caught me completely by surprise. ❜ ❨1121❩ ❛ I’ve risked my life for you. ❜ ❨1122❩ ❛ The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak. ❜ ❨1123❩ ❛ I love you, even the part of you that loved him. ❜ ❨1124❩ ❛ I’m sorry it took me so long to see you. ❜ ❨1125❩ ❛ I never really belonged anywhere. ❜ ❨1126❩ ❛ Thanks for being my best friend and making my life bearable.  ❜ ❨1127❩ ❛ Thanks for finding me. ❜ ❨1128❩ ❛ You and I are going to change the world. ❜ ❨1129❩ ❛ I’ve been waiting for you a long time. ❜ ❨1130❩ ❛ I’m not used to people trying to kill me. ❜ ❨1131❩ ❛ You’re shaking. ❜ ❨1132❩ ❛ There's nothing wrong with being a lizard. Unless you were born to be a hawk. ❜ ❨1133❩ ❛ Make me your villain. ❜ ❨1134❩ ❛ Just you and me. It’s always just you and me. ❜ ❨1135❩ ❛ Do you blame me for every mistake I made? For every dumb thing I’ve said? ❜ ❨1136❩ ❛ Well, if it gets too bad, give me a signal. ❜ ❨1137❩ ❛ Did you tell him what I showed you in the dark? ❜ ❨1138❩ ❛ Did you miss me when you were gone? ❜ ❨1139❩ ❛ What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men. ❜ ❨1140❩ ❛ You’re interfering with my plan. ❜ ❨1141❩ ❛ Too much champagne? ❜ ❨1142❩ ❛ I hope you don’t expect fairness from me. It isn’t one of my specialties. ❜ ❨1143❩ ❛ There is something more powerful than any army. Something strong enough to topple kings. Faith. ❜ ❨1144❩ ❛ All you said was that I had to kill you. You didn’t say how. �� ❨1145❩ ❛ What is she? She’s everything, you dumb son of a bitch. ❜ ❨1146❩ ❛ She’s an ugly little thing. No child should look like that. Pale and sour, like a glass of milk that’s turned. ❜ ❨1147❩ ❛ I wouldn’t make that mistake again. ❜ ❨1148❩ ❛ It’s a great honor, to save a life. You saved many. ❜ ❨1149❩ ❛ In this world, there are things you can only do alone. ❜ ❨1150❩ ❛ What seems like a reasonable distance to one person might feel too far to somebody else. ❜ ❨1151❩ ❛ If you really want to know something, you have to be willing to pay the price. ❜ ❨1152❩ ❛ Why should you be interested in me? ❜ ❨1153❩ ❛ I have been told I've got a darkish personality. A few times. ❜ ❨1154❩ ❛ It's not as if our lives are divided simply into light and dark. There's shadowy middle ground. ❜ ❨1155❩ ❛ I'll write to you. A super-long letter, like in an old-fashioned novel. ❜ ❨1156❩ ❛ The spotlight doesn't suit me. I'm more of a side dish. ❜ ❨1157❩ ❛ The ground we stand on looks solid enough, but if something happens it can drop right out from under you.  ❜ ❨1158❩ ❛ So once you're dead there's just nothing? ❜ ❨1159❩ ❛ If only I could fall sound asleep and wake up in my old reality. ❜ ❨1160❩ ❛ Is action merely the incidental product of thought, or is thought the consequential product of action? ❜ ❨1161❩ ❛ Nobody can shake off their own shadow. ❜ ❨1162❩ ❛ The silence is so deep it hurts. ❜ ❨1163❩ ❛ I may not look it, but I can be a very patient guy. ❜ ❨1164❩ ❛ Killing time is one of my specialities. ❜ ❨1165❩ ❛ You can't fight it. ❜ ❨1166❩ ❛ Tell me something,—do you believe in reincarnation? ❜ ❨1167❩ ❛ I can’t understand nothingness. I can’t understand it and I can’t imagine it. ❜ ❨1168❩ ❛ I can hardly breathe, and my whole body wants to shrink into a corner.  ❜ ❨1169❩ ❛ I do have a few things wrong with me, but those are strictly problems I keep inside. ❜ ❨1170❩ ❛ I can't take it any more, I can't go on any more. ❜ ❨1171❩ ❛ You don't really have it together. ❜ ❨1172❩ ❛ Is it against the law for me to know it? ❜ ❨1173❩ ❛ I keep having the same dream. ❜ ❨1174❩ ❛ Are you asking because you really want an answer? ❜ ❨1175❩ ❛ I hate this! I don't want to be changed this way! ❜ ❨1176❩ ❛ No contradictions, no irony. They do everything according to numerical formulas. ❜ ❨1177❩ ❛ Want to hear the rest? If you’re not interested, I can stop. ❜ ❨1178❩ ❛ If I didn’t have these memories inside me, I would’ve snapped a long time ago. I would’ve curled up in a ditch somewhere and died. ❜ ❨1179❩ ❛ I don’t know what you’re feeling. I won’t even pretend. ❜ ❨1180❩ ❛ What are you doing here, honey? ❜ ❨1181❩ ❛ You're not even old enough to know how bad life gets. ❜ ❨1182❩ ❛ You don't understand me. ❜ ❨1183❩ ❛ All wisdom ends in paradox. ❜ ❨1184❩ ❛ It is love that overthrows empire. Love that binds two hearts together, come hellfire & brimstone. ❜ ❨1185❩ ❛ I have lost my gift. ❜ ❨1186❩ ❛ Winter is the season of alcoholism and despair. ❜ ❨1187❩ ❛ The seeds of death get lost in the mess that God made us. ❜ ❨1188❩ ❛ They're just memories now. It’s time to forget. ❜ ❨1189❩ ❛ The time has to be right and the heart willing. ❜ ❨1190❩ ❛ The world, a tired performer, offers us another half-assed season. ❜ ❨1191❩ ❛ Capitalism has resulted in material well-being but spiritual bankruptcy. ❜ ❨1192❩ ❛ Grief is natural, overcoming it is a matter of choice. ❜ ❨1193❩ ❛ I want out of that decorating scheme. ❜ ❨1194❩ ❛ With most people suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. ❜ ❨1195❩ ❛ You never get over it but you get where it doesn't bother you so much. ❜ ❨1196❩ ❛ Don't waste your time on life. ❜ ❨1197❩ ❛ I'm a teenager. I've got problems! ❜ ❨1198❩ ❛ Adolescents tend to seek love where they can find it. ❜ ❨1199❩ ❛ Obviously, you've never been a thirteen-year-old girl. ❜ ❨1200❩ ❛ It was a mistake. ❜ ❨1201❩ ❛ It seemed like we were supposed to feel sorry for everything that ever happened, ever. ❜ ❨1202❩ ❛ Buffeted but not broken. ❜ ❨1203❩ ❛ Shit. What have kids got to be worried about now? ❜ ❨1204❩ ❛ If they want trouble, they should go live in Bangladesh. ❜ ❨1205❩ ❛ I can't wait until I get out of here. ❜ ❨1206❩ ❛ When she jumped she probably thought she’d fly. ❜ ❨1207❩ ❛ I do not think the patient truly meant to end her life. Her act was a cry for help. ❜ ❨1208❩ ❛ You're a stone fox. ❜ ❨1209❩ ❛ It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight. ❜ ❨1210❩ ❛ Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. ❜ ❨1211❩ ❛ He broke my heart. You merely broke my life. ❜ ❨1212❩ ❛ I'm sorry to have deceived you so much, but that's how life is. ❜ ❨1213❩ ❛ Words without experience are meaningless. ❜ ❨1214❩ ❛ I loved you. I was a monster, but I loved you. ❜ ❨1215❩ ❛ Come just as you are. ❜ ❨1216❩ ❛ If a violin string could ache, i would be that string. ❜ ❨1217❩ ❛ Perhaps, somewhere, some day, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again. ❜ ❨1218❩ ❛ What's so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own. ❜ ❨1219❩ ❛ Don't touch me; I'll die if you touch me. ❜ ❨1220❩ ❛ You took advantage of my disadvantage. ❜ ❨1221❩ ❛ I walk in a maze I cannot get out of. ❜ ❨1222❩ ❛ Life is just one small piece of light between two eternal darknesses. ❜ ❨1223❩ ❛ Imagine me; I shall not exist if you do not imagine me. ❜ ❨1224❩ ❛ There is no harm in smiling. ❜ ❨1225❩ ❛ There is no point in staying here. There is no point in staying anywhere. ❜ ❨1226❩ ❛ There is nothing more atrociously cruel than an adored child. ❜ ❨1227❩ ❛ I am so tired of being cynical. ❜ ❨1228❩ ❛ Come to live with me, and die with me, and everything with me. ❜ ❨1229❩ ❛ This is the only immortality that you and I may share. ❜ ❨1230❩ ❛ I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else. ❜ ❨1231❩ ❛ I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t’aimais, je t’aimais! ❜ ❨1232❩ ❛ Years of secret suffering has taught me superhuman self-control. ❜ ❨1233❩ ❛ Solitude is corrupting me. I need company and care. ❜ ❨1234❩ ❛ I've missed you terribly. ❜ ❨1235❩ ❛ I've been revoltingly unfaithful to you. ❜ ❨1236❩ ❛ It doesn't matter a bit, because you've stopped caring anyway. ❜ ❨1237❩ ❛ What makes you say I've stopped caring for you? ❜ ❨1238❩ ❛ Nowadays you have to be a scientist if you want to be a killer. ❜ ❨1239❩ ❛ The sun climbs high in the sky, then starts down. People come, then go. ❜ ❨1240❩ ❛ Tell me, have you ever thought of killing me? ❜ ❨1241❩ ❛ I can not believe you are the same human being. ❜ ❨1242❩ ❛ Just how urgent is it? ❜ ❨1243❩ ❛ It is time for you to be going. ❜ ❨1244❩ ❛ How is it you know something like that? ❜ ❨1245❩ ❛ I don’t mind. Your mess is my mess. ❜ ❨1246❩ ❛ Everybody has one thing they do not want to lose. ❜ ❨1247❩ ❛ I’ll be late tonight, so don’t wait up for me. ❜ ❨1248❩ ❛ Nothing I’ve tried to do by myself has ever come off. ❜ ❨1249❩ ❛ I am not catching you in the middle of anything important, am I? ❜ ❨1250❩ ❛ Some things are forgotten, some things disappear, some things die. ❜ ❨1251❩ ❛ My biggest fault is that the faults I was born with grow bigger each year. ❜ ❨1252❩ ❛ To get irritated is to lose our way in life. ❜ ❨1253❩ ❛ A friend to kill time is a friend sublime. ❜ ❨1254❩ ❛ I don't really know if it's the right thing to do. ❜ ❨1255❩ ❛ Faster cars and more cats run over? Who needs it? ❜ ❨1256❩ ❛ Most of everything you think you know about me is nothing more than memories. ❜ ❨1257❩ ❛ Your fate is and will always be the fate of a dreamer. ❜ ❨1258❩ ❛ You’re loads better than you think you are. ❜ ❨1259❩ ❛ You’re only half-living, the other half is still untapped somewhere. ❜ ❨1260❩ ❛ The song is over. But the melody lingers on. ❜ ❨1261❩ ❛ You are extraordinary. ❜ ❨1262❩ ❛ We tend to fool ourselves into thinking that time is our size, but it really goes on and on. ❜ ❨1263❩ ❛ It could be five years or ten years or one month. It's all the same. ❜ ❨1264❩ ❛ I’m forever realising things too late. ❜ ❨1265❩ ❛ I’m not complaining when I say my life is boring. ❜ ❨1266❩ ❛ Weakness is something that rots in the body. ❜ ❨1267❩ ❛ Coming from your mouth, it has the ring of truth, but I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them. ❜ ❨1268❩ ❛ You can't expect something unreal to last anyway, can you? ❜ ❨1269❩ ❛ A wise man does not step betwixt the beast and his meat. ❜ ❨1270❩ ❛ So, kill me. Tell the others I attacked you so you killed me. ❜ ❨1271❩ ❛ Should never have come here. ❜ ❨1272❩ ❛ Hard to guess my tastes. ❜ ❨1273❩ ❛ Can’t it wait until the morning? ❜ ❨1274❩ ❛ You’ll find temper tantrums won’t help you here. ❜ ❨1275❩ ❛ It must have taken courage to return. ❜ ❨1276❩ ❛ It all sounds grimly dystopian. ❜ ❨1277❩ ❛ I am not afraid of you! ❜ ❨1278❩ ❛ All this could be avoided! ❜ ❨1279❩ ❛ You consider me a murderer? ❜ ❨1280❩ ❛ Gross way to die. ❜ ❨1281❩ ❛ What sparks wars? The will to power, the backbone of human nature. ❜ ❨1282❩ ❛ My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops? ❜ ❨1283❩ ❛ Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others. ❜ ❨1284❩ ❛ I believe there is another world waiting for us. A better world. And I'll be waiting for you there. ❜ ❨1285❩ ❛ You are allowed to feel messed up and inside out. It doesn't mean you're defective - it just means you're human. ❜ ❨1286❩ ❛ Power, time, gravity, love. The forces that really kick ass are all invisible. ❜ ❨1287❩ ❛ Unlimited power in the hands of limited people always leads to cruelty. ❜ ❨1288❩ ❛ Truth is singular. Its 'versions' are mistruths. ❜ ❨1289❩ ❛ Dreams are all I have ever truly owned. ❜ ❨1290❩ ❛ Your version of the truth is the only thing that matters. ❜ ❨1291❩ ❛ I believe death is only a door. One closes, and another opens. ❜ ❨1292❩ ❛ By each crime and every kindness, we birth our future. ❜ ❨1293❩ ❛ The healthy can't understand the emptied, the broken. ❜ ❨1294❩ ❛ Lying's wrong, but when the world spins backwards, a small wrong may be a big right. ❜ ❨1295❩ ❛ The weak are meat the strong do eat. ❜ ❨1296❩ ❛ Do whatever you can't not do. ❜ ❨1297❩ ❛ What precipitates outcomes? Vicious acts & virtuous acts. ❜ ❨1298❩ ❛ I remain thankful to God for all his mercies. ❜ ❨1299❩ ❛ You can maintain power over people, as long as you give them something. Rob a man of everything, and that man will no longer be in your power. ❜ ❨1300❩ ❛ Power. The ability to determine another man's luck. ❜ ❨1301❩ ❛ Pain is strong, aye - but friends' eyes, more strong. ❜ ❨1302❩ ❛ Perhaps those deprived of beauty perceive it most instinctively. ❜ ❨1303❩ ❛ Why ask a question whose answer would demand ten more questions? ❜ ❨1304❩ ❛ You can’t lie to your soul. ❜ ❨1305❩ ❛ Why would I want to do a thing like that? ❜ ❨1306❩ ❛ We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. ❜ ❨1307❩ ❛ Better to make life as complete and enjoyable an experience as possible, in case death is shite, which I suspect it will be. ❜ ❨1308❩ ❛ I’m not running away, I’m moving on. ❜ ❨1309❩ ❛ The reasons? There are no reasons. ❜ ❨1310❩ ❛ Some people are easier to love when you don’t have to be around them. ❜ ❨1311❩ ❛ Love does not exist. ❜ ❨1312❩ ❛ Fuck that ‘regrets’ bullshit. ❜ ❨1313❩ ❛ How does it make you feel? ❜ ❨1314❩ ❛ It’s horrible how we always die alone, but no worse than living alone. ❜ ❨1315❩ ❛ Choose us. Choose life. ❜ ❨1316❩ ❛ You fucking knew that fucking cunt would fuck some cunt. ❜ ❨1317❩ ❛ I’m more of a warrior than you’ll ever be. ❜ ❨1318❩ ❛ What does that make us? The lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. ❜ ❨1319❩ ❛ You don’t have to run away.  ❜ ❨1320❩ ❛ I tried to stop because it was only causing pain. I couldn’t. ❜ ❨1321❩ ❛ I’m not going to get crushed. ❜ ❨1322❩ ❛ I love doubt in a woman. It’s nearly as sexy as determination. ❜ ❨1323❩ ❛ Take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty. ❜ ❨1324❩ ❛ You’re a mess. ❜ ❨1325❩ ❛ I know that it’s never left you alone. ❜ ❨1326❩ ❛ Are you asking me or telling me? ❜ ❨1327❩ ❛ You just get used to all the shit. ❜ ❨1328❩ ❛ You can’t afford a conscience in this life. ❜ ❨1329❩ ❛ None of us are saints and scapegoats are always handy. ❜ ❨1330❩ ❛ Doing things doesn’t hurt you; you get hurt by avoiding them. ❜ ❨1331❩ ❛ What was that? ❜ ❨1332❩ ❛ Protect me from those who wish to help us. ❜ ❨1333❩ ❛ You can’t love yourself if you want to hurt things like that. ❜ ❨1334❩ ❛ What happens when people open their hearts? ❜ ❨1335❩ ❛ Nobody likes being alone that much. ❜ ❨1336❩ ❛ I don’t go out of my way to make friends, that’s all. It just leads to disappointment.” ❨1337❩ ❛ Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Only assholes do that. ❜ ❨1338❩ ❛ You need to grab whatever chance you have of happiness where you find it, and not worry about other people too much. ❜ ❨1339❩ ❛ I want you always to remember me. ❜ ❨1340❩ ❛ Despite your best efforts, people are going to be hurt when it’s time for them to be hurt. ❜ ❨1341❩ ❛ What stays in your heart will stay; keep them, and what vanishes will vanish. ❜ ❨1342❩ ❛ All I want in this world is you. ❜ ❨1343❩ ❛ I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning. ❜ ❨1344❩ ❛ No truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. ❜ ❨1345❩ ❛ What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for and to do it so unconsciously. ❜ ❨1346❩ ❛ If you’re in pitch blackness, all you can do is sit tight until your eyes get used to the dark. ❜ ❨1347❩ ❛ I’ve had enough hurt already in my life. More than enough. Now I want to be happy. ❜ ❨1348❩ ❛ People leave strange little memories of themselves behind when they die. ❜ ❨1349❩ ❛ Stop eating yourself up alive. Things will go where they’re supposed to go if you just let them take their natural course. ❜ ❨1350❩ ❛ When your feelings build up and harden and die inside, then you’re in big trouble. ❜ ❨1351❩ ❛ When you fall in love, the natural thing to do is give yourself to it. ❜ ❨1352❩ ❛ If I have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound but mine as well. ❜ ❨1353❩ ❛ Hey, what is it with you? Why are you so spaced out? You still haven’t answered me. ❜ ❨1354❩ ❛ People are strange when you’re a stranger. ❜ ❨1355❩ ❛ The dead will always be dead, but we have to go on living. ❜ ❨1356❩ ❛ You don’t get it, do you? ❜ ❨1357❩ ❛ I am a flawed human being - a far more flawed human being than you ❨1358❩ realise. ❜ ❨1359❩ ❛ At least let me know whether or not I hurt you. �� ❨1360❩ ❛ All of us are imperfect human beings living in an imperfect world. ❜ ❨1361❩ ❛ I’ve never once thought about how I was going to die. ❜ ❨1362❩ ❛ So I’m not crazy after all! ❜ ❨1363❩ ❛ I miss you terribly sometimes, but in general I go on living with all the energy I can muster. ❜ ❨1364❩ ❛ Will you wait for me forever? ❜ ❨1365❩ ❛ I don’t want our relationship to end like this. ❜ ❨1366❩ ❛ When am I going to be able to talk to you? I want you to tell me that much, at least. ❜ ❨1367❩ ❛ It hurts not being able to see you. ❜ ❨1368❩ ❛ I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. ❜ ❨1369❩ ❛ The world is an inherently unfair place. ❜ ❨1370❩ ❛ Life frightens me sometimes. I don’t happen to take that as the premise for everything else though. ❜ ❨1371❩ ❛ I’m a real bargain, don’t you think? If you don’t take me, I’ll end up going somewhere else. ❜ ❨1372❩ ❛ We’re all kind of weird and twisted and drowning. ❜ ❨1373❩ ❛ Don’t you think it would be wonderful to get rid of everything and everybody and just go some place where you don’t know a soul? ❜ ❨1374❩ ❛ You’re not telling me anything I don’t know already. ❜ ❨1375❩ ❛ He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past. ❜ ❨1376❩ ❛ If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself. ❜ ❨1377❩ ❛ We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness. ❜ ❨1378❩ ❛ Until they become conscious they will never rebel. ❜ ❨1379❩ ❛ Power is not a means; it is an end. ❜ ❨1380❩ ❛ They are not interested in the good of others; they are interested solely in power, pure power. ❜ ❨1381❩ ❛ Now you begin to understand me. ❜ ❨1382❩ ❛ In the face of pain there are no heroes. ❜ ❨1383❩ ❛ Big Brother is watching you. ❜ ❨1384❩ ❛ Power is tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing. ❜ ❨1385❩ ❛ It’s a beautiful thing, the destruction of words. ❜ ❨1386❩ ❛ The choice for mankind lies between freedom and happiness and for the great bulk of mankind, happiness is better. ❜ ❨1387❩ ❛ Your mind appeals to me. It resembles my own mind. ❜ ❨1388❩ ❛ Reality exists in the human mind, and nowhere else. ❜ ❨1389❩ ❛ We do not merely destroy our enemies; we change them. ❜ ❨1390❩ ❛ How can I help it? How can I help but see what is in front of my eyes? ❜ ❨1391❩ ❛ You must try harder. ❜ ❨1392❩ ❛ Confession is not betrayal. ❜ ❨1393❩ ❛ What you say or do doesn’t matter; only feelings matter. ❜ ❨1394❩ ❛ If they could make me stop loving you —- that would be the real betrayal. ❜ ❨1395❩ ❛ Of pain you can wish only one thing: that it should stop. ❜ ❨1396❩ ❛ To die hating them, that will be freedom. ❜ ❨1397❩ ❛ No one ever seizes power with the intention of relinquishing it. ❜ ❨1398❩ ❛ What can you do against the lunatic who is more intelligent than yourself? ❜ ❨1399❩ ❛ To keep them in control is not difficult. ❜ ❨1400❩ ❛ So long as they are not permitted to have standards of comparison, they never even become aware that they are oppressed. ❜ ❨1401❩ ❛ The consequences of every act are included in the act itself. ❜ ❨1402❩ ❛ The essential act of war is destruction, not necessarily of human lives, but of the products of human labour. ❜ ❨1403❩ ❛ Stupidity is as necessary as intelligence, and as difficult to attain. ❜ ❨1404❩ ❛ I hate purity, I hate goodness! I don’t want virtue to exist anywhere. I want everyone to be corrupt to the bones. ❜ ❨1405❩ ❛ The past is dead, the future is unimaginable. ❜ ❨1406❩ ❛ You know the answer already. Everyone knows it. ❜ ❨1407❩ ❛ You don’t give a damn what they suffer. All you care is yourself. ❜ ❨1408❩ ❛ It is not easy to become sane. ❜ ❨1409❩ ❛ No emotion is pure anymore, because everything is mixed up with fear and hatred. ❜ ❨1410❩ ❛ They say that time heals all things —- they say you can always forget. ❜ ❨1411❩ ❛ The object of waging a war is always to be in a better position in which to wage another war. ❜ ❨1412❩ ❛ I sold you and you sold me. ❜ ❨1413❩ ❛ You do not exist. ❜ ❨1414❩ ❛ How does one man assert his power over another? By making him suffer. ❜ ❨1415❩ ❛ Obedience is not enough. Unless he is suffering, how can you be sure that he is obeying your will and not his own? ❜ ❨1416❩ ❛ Everything else we shall destroy – everything. ❜ ❨1417❩ ❛ Two and two makes five. ❜ ❨1418❩ ❛ Facts, at any rate, can not be kept hidden. ❜ ❨1419❩ ❛ The past is whatever the records and the memories agree upon. ❜ ❨1420❩ ❛ So long as human beings stay human, death and life are the same thing. ❜ ❨1421❩ ❛ If both the past and the external world exist only in the mind, and if the mind itself is controllable—what then? ❜ ❨1422❩ ❛ The lie became the truth. ❜ ❨1423❩ ❛ It is like swimming against a current that sweeps you backwards however hard you struggle. ❜ ❨1424❩ ❛ Turn round and go with the current instead of opposing it. ❜ ❨1425❩ ❛ It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything. ❜ ❨1426❩ ❛ I don’t want to die without any scars. ❜ ❨1427❩ ❛ This is your life and it’s ending one moment at a time. ❜ ❨1428❩ ❛ You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways. ❜ ❨1429❩ ❛ You are not your job, you’re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. ❜ ❨1430❩ ❛ You are not special. ❜ ❨1431❩ ❛ You’re not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else. ❜ ❨1432❩ ❛ The things you used to own, now they own you. ❜ ❨1433❩ ❛ Today is the sort of day where the sun only comes up to humiliate you. ❜ ❨1434❩ ❛ Maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves. ❜ ❨1435❩ ❛ Only after disaster can we be resurrected. ❜ ❨1436❩ ❛ Everything is evolving, everything is falling apart. ❜ ❨1437❩ ❛ We’ve all been raised believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. ❜ ❨1438❩ ❛ Don’t you have other things to do? ❜ ❨1439❩ ❛ Prove you’re alive. If you don’t claim your humanity you will become a statistic. ❜ ❨1440❩ ❛ You have been warned. ❜ ❨1441❩ ❛ If you don’t know what you want, you end up with a lot you don’t. ❜ ❨1442❩ ❛ It’s not love or anything, but I think I like you, too. ❜ ❨1443❩ ❛ If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person? ❜ ❨1444❩ ❛ Why did I cause so much pain? ❜ ❨1445❩ ❛ The lower you fall, the higher you’ll fly. ❜ ❨1446❩ ❛ Maybe self-improvement isn’t the answer, maybe self-destruction is the answer. ❜ ❨1447❩ ❛ May I never be complete. May I never be content. May I never be perfect. ❜ ❨1448❩ ❛ Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head. ❜ ❨1449❩ ❛ We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. ❜ ❨1450❩ ❛ The girl is infectious human waste. ❜ ❨1451❩ ❛ I want to destroy everything beautiful I’ll never have. ❜ ❨1452❩ ❛ On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero. ❜ ❨1453❩ ❛ If you could be either God’s worst enemy or nothing, which would you choose? ❜ ❨1454❩ ❛ It is like you’re never really awake; but you’re never really asleep. ❜ ❨1455❩ ❛ Worker bees can leave. Even drones can fly away. The Queen is their slave. ❜ ❨1456❩ ❛ A moment is the most you could ever expect from perfection. ❜ ❨1457❩ ❛ The people you’re trying to step on, we’re everyone you depend on. ❜ ❨1458❩ ❛ You have to give up! ❜ ❨1459❩ ❛ Reject the basic assumptions of civilisation, especially the importance of material possessions. ❜ ❨1460❩ ❛ Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing. ❜ ❨1461❩ ❛ You have to realise that someday you will die, Until you know that, you are useless. ❜ ❨1462❩ ❛ A tiger can smile. A snake will say it loves you. ❜ ❨1463❩ ❛ Lies make us evil. ❜ ❨1464❩ ❛ If you died right now, how would you feel about your life? ❜ ❨1465❩ ❛ You always kill the one you love. ❜ ❨1466❩ ❛ Maybe we should always assume the worst. ❜ ❨1467❩ ❛ Put a gun to my head and paint the wall with my brains. ❜ ❨1468❩ ❛ Which is worse? Hell or nothing? ❜ ❨1469❩ ❛ A minute of perfection is worth the effort. ❜ ❨1470❩ ❛ You’re going to die, tonight. You might die in one second or in one hour, you decide. ❜ ❨1471❩ ❛ Lie to me. Tell me the first thing off the top of your head. Make something up. ❜ ❨1472❩ ❛ I don’t give a shit. I have a gun. ❜ ❨1473❩ ❛ I know who you are. I know where you live. ❜ ❨1474❩ ❛ Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of your life. ❜ ❨1475❩ ❛ My philosophy of life is that I can die at any moment. And the tragedy of my life is that I do not. ❜ ❨1476❩ ❛ Everything is so far away, a copy of a copy of a copy. You can’t touch anything and nothing can touch you. ❜ ❨1477❩ ❛ There are a lot of things we don’t want to know about the people we love. ❜ ❨1478❩ ❛ We just had a near-life experience. ❜ ❨1479❩ ❛ If people think you are dying, they give you their full attention. They listen instead of just waiting for their turn to speak. ❜ ❨1480❩ ❛ I am nothing, and not even that. ❜ ❨1481❩ ❛ This isn’t really death. —- We’ll be legends. We won’t grow old. ❜ ❨1482❩ ❛ Stop trying to control everything and just let go. Let go. ❜ ❨1483❩ ❛ The amazing miracle of death, when one second you’re walking and talking, and the next second you’re an object. ❜ ❨1484❩ ❛ Only if we’re caught and punished can we be saved. ❜ ❨1485❩ ❛ I never thought about how important the sky was until I didn't have one. ❜ ❨1486❩ ❛ Dreams are like that: they go in and out of memories and scenes, but they're never real. They're never real, and I hate them because they aren't. ❜ ❨1487❩ ❛ Power isn’t control at all — power is strength, and giving that strength to others. ❜ ❨1488❩ ❛ A leader isn’t someone who forces others to make him stronger. ❜ ❨1489❩ ❛ A leader is someone willing to give his strength to others that they may have the strength to stand on their own. ❜ ❨1490❩ ❛ In the end, we are alone. ❜ ❨1491❩ ❛ It is like a piece of my soul is lost, empty. ❜ ❨1492❩ ❛ If my life on Earth must end, let it end with a promise. Let it end with hope. ❜ ❨1493❩ ❛ Sorry? Sorry isn't enough. ❜ ❨1494❩ ❛ Every single thing I ever loved is beyond my reach now. Everything I ever wanted. Everything I ever was. ❜ ❨1495❩ ❛ Will you stay with me? ❜ ❨1496❩ ❛ A leader doesn't make pawns - he makes people. ❜ ❨1497❩ ❛ Do you hear that? The pulse of life from your heart, the slow in-and-out from your lungs? Even when you are silent, even when you block out all noise, your body is still a cacophony of life. Mine is not. ❜ ❨1498❩ ❛ It is the silence that drives me mad. The silence that drives the nightmares to me. ❜ ❨1499❩ ❛ There is nothing between us but rain. There is nothing between us at all. ❜ ❨1500❩ ❛ I like a little chaos. ❜

#sentence starters #generate sentence prompts #rp meme #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme #prompt for writing #rp prompt #send emoji meme #long tw

[f1united]

Ensemble - Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your Arthur Leclercs best friend. So why, after a random night in London, are you falling for his brother?

Chapter One: The Start

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and sex.

Word Count: 5.8k

Note: This chapter begins in London and is marked where it switches to Mykonos. There are then some flashbacks mixed in so just watch out for those. Let me know your thoughts, enjoy!

*****

Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Not long after Pierre had joined your table, Charles emerged from the toilets. Pierre had waved his hands to inform him of his updated location as he sat in the empty seat, unknowingly signing himself up for a night full of girly gossip and drama. The evening was spent reminiscing on childhood memories and sharing stories. It wasn't until Nat checked her phone that you realised how late it was getting.

"We better get going," She announced as she checked her phone. "The last train is in half an hour." You lived just outside of London which meant that most nights out were cut short by trains unless you had booked a hotel. You hummed in agreement as you finished your drink watching as Pierre began to whisper in Lucy's ear. They'd been flirting all night so her next sentence didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I'm going to chill with Pierre for a bit, I'll find my own way home tomorrow" The rest of the girls saw it coming too.

"Are you sure?" Katie asked. "I don't want you ending up in London on your own with no way home." She had a point. London could be quite daunting when it was late and dark, especially if you weren't a local.

"Well why don't you stay too?" Charles nodded his head towards you as he spoke. "That way you could leave together." Not one part of you questioned Charles' intentions as he spoke. He remained the responsible 'Arthur's older brother' that was being sensible and mature, making sure that everyone got home safely.

"If that's alright with you?" Your question was answered with a nod of his head. You all began to grab your things and headed outside, saying your goodbyes, telling them to text you when they were home safe as they encouraged you to do the same. By the time they'd headed for the station, Pierre and Lucy were already nowhere to be seen.

"I'm not sure about you but I'm in no rush to go back to the apartment just yet!" You spoke to Charles as you looked at the night sky above you.

"Where do you want to go in the meantime?"

“Have you ever explored London before?" You answered his question with one of your own. He shook his head. "So you haven't seen all beautiful sites it has to offer." The sarcasm was evident in your voice as you pointed down the alley way you were walking past full of black bins and plastic bags full of rubbish.

"I've only ever been here to celebrate races and I can't say I've seen much other than the inside of some bars and restaurants.”

"Well you're in for a long night Leclerc." Two hours ago Charles wanted nothing more than for him and Pierre to go back to the apartment. The lack of alcohol he'd consumed throughout the night was only adding to the tiredness he'd accumulated over the race weekend. However as you dragged him through the streets of London he realised there was no place he'd rather be.

You'd ridden Boris bikes alongside the River Thames, shown him your favourite restaurant in Covent Garden and taken him through Piccadilly Circus all the way to Oxford Street where closed shops lined the dark streets, pointing out your favourite ones as you cycled past. He never did things like this. As a F1 driver it was difficult for him to go almost anywhere without going unnoticed but tonight not one person had recognised him because for the night he was just a normal person with another normal person having a good time. 

After abandoning the Boris bikes at the nearest drop off point you both headed towards the apartment. It belonged to Charles' mother and was often used by you and Arthur whenever he'd come to visit and couldn't stay with you.

"You seem happier than when I last saw you." His comment made you smile. It was all he could think about as you wondered through the dark streets. The last time you'd seen him you'd just broken up with your ex. Your relationship had been on and off for years but you'd finally called it quits for good. It didn't take a genius to see the relationship was making you unhappy, the anxiety, tears and sleepless nights were picked up on by everyone albeit your efforts to hide it. Arthur was the only person who truly knew what was going on and it hurt him to see his best friend in so much pain when she thought she was in love.

"Thank you, I'm in a much better place now. I've had time to focus on myself." You'd completely lost yourself throughout the time you were together, focusing so much on what he'd wanted and expected rather than what made you happy. The situation had increased your maturity and for that reason you were grateful your first heartbreak had come at such a young age. You'd correctly assumed that Arthur had made Charles aware of your sensitiveness to the situation to some extent as he made no further comments. 

He had approached Arthur with concern after your last meeting. Despite a fun grand prix weekend you'd been blinking back tears and spent most of the time with a blank expression on your face. He hated it. He could see you trying to compose yourself, when he came to thank you for coming you'd done your best to smile, your voice was laced with excitement, but your eyes were empty, drained of emotion. He was grateful to see it had made its way back.

"Did you know I've never been to Harrods?" His random fact was a relief as he quickly changed the subject, allowing your mind to be brought back to the present rather than the dark times from the past.

"Even I've been to Harrods Charles. We should go tomorrow, you'd have a field day in the clothes section." As a part time student most of your spare money went into savings, a fund you'd created for your planned travels when you were done with your studies. It wasn't very often that you brought yourself nice things so despite your multiple trips to Harrods, you'd never actually purchased anything. You could see him deliberating your suggestion in his head. 

"You can wear sunglasses and a hat with your mask, just don't wear a bright red Ferrari top and I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves to ourselves."

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" His question brought you back to reality slightly.

"I'll call in sick?" you offered. It suddenly occurred to you that this was the longest time you and Charles had ever been alone together and the idea of leaving wasn't something that you wanted to think about just yet. 

Charles opened the apartment door with caution, neither of you wanted to interrupt your friend’s spontaneous night, nor hear any of the antics they were getting up to. You frowned at each other as you stepped into the entrance corridor. There were no faint voices, no mumbling or laughs, just the hum of the city that echoed through the slightly open window.

“Maybe they didn’t come back here,” your judgement became increasingly more likely as you followed Charles towards the kitchen and stood around the island.

“I’ll send him a text.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped away before placing it on the marble countertop. It lit up with Pierre's reply not long after he'd set it down. “They went to some hotel, apparently he’s dropping her home in a second.”

“He’s not the type to bring girls back to his home turf then,” you took the bag off your shoulder and placed in on the counter, grabbing a hair tie from inside and gathering your locks into a low ponytail. “Smart move.” Charles shrugged his shoulders at your observation.

He’d never really thought about it before, but he was the same. The few casual hook ups that he’d had over the years had never been in places he spent a lot of time like his house in Monaco, or his favourite holiday home in Mykonos, and never this apartment. Sure, he’d slept with people in those cities, but never in his space. You were right though; it was easier to forget about the crime if you never returned to the scene.

"Do you have anything I can change into?" 

“There’s a top on the end of my bed.” You thanked him as you made your way towards his room. “I’ll grab some of my things so I can crash on the sofa once you’ve changed.” You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him as you stood in the doorway.

“I’m not kicking an f1 driver out of their own bed Charles, especially not post race weekend.” You crossed your arms as you lent against the door frame. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He argued.

“It’s one night Charles, I really don’t mind.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He repeated.

“Well then it looks like we’re sharing the bed.” Your words not only surprised you, but also Charles. Neither of you were sure where this increased confidence had come from, but you didn’t want it to become awkward, so you tried to justify your statement. “Me and Arthur used to share a bed all the time!”

The look on his face as your eyes met with his across the room was one you’d so desperately been seeking without realising it. His head cocked, eyebrows raised and small smirk tugging its way onto his lips provided reassurance, giving you the confidence to confirm that this relationship was very different to your one with Arthur. You already knew it, you had felt it every time you’d looked at him since you were about 16, but this was the first time you could say with certainty that it was reciprocated.

Charles was dying to climb into bed with you. To wrap his arms around you and stay like it all night. He didn’t care about the fact that your hair would be in his face or that his arm would most likely be dead within the first half an hour. He just wanted you there with him, so he could learn things about you that he didn’t already know and fall asleep with the scent of your faded perfume beneath his nose. He suggested that he’d sleep on the sofa because he knew that wasn’t what you were implying. 

“I’ll stay on my side,” you offered. “Promise.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Charles was a respectful man, he wouldn’t cross boundaries without permission, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without your touch. The thought of your body lying so tantalisingly close to his while dressed in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts was driving him crazy.

“I’m a very good sleeper, you won’t even know I’m there.”

You couldn’t stop listing reasons for Charles to join you. He wished you would stop; his head was already full of so many.

“Well go and get comfy and I’ll join you in a minute,” In that moment he made the decision to give in knowing that if this was the only chance he got to lay in bed with you he'd take the opportunity, whether your bodies were intertwined or not. “Do you need a drink or anything?”

“A water would be great!” You smiled as you turned around and headed to the bedroom. Charles spent the next few minutes alone in the kitchen trying to convince himself that this was a bad idea. That it was wrong. You were his brother’s best friend and he shouldn't be this nervous or excited to lay next to you, but no matter how hard he tried to dislike the situation he couldn’t because it just felt right.

By the time he joined you in bed you’d already made yourself incredibly comfortable. He chuckled at the site of you tangled in the duvet before climbing in next to you. You laid facing each other and remained that way as you chatted about memories from the past. Childhood holidays and his earliest racing days to you latest life plans and hopes for the future. That's how you drifted to sleep, listening to his voice was more comforting than you'd like to admit. When you awoke in the morning you were unsure what terrified you more, the feeling of one of you completely reducing the few centimetres of space left between you or never knowing what Charles’ touch felt like.

*****

Maybe that’s why you were so unimpressed when Charles and Pierre joined the several of you seated around the long table on the patio with two unknown girls. The number of cocktails you’d consumed weren’t providing you with a great amount of rationality but then again it was difficult to justify being annoyed when you had no reason to be in the soberest of situations. The only person to blame was yourself, you’d had the chance to experience a night with Charles and a combination of your stubbornness, maturity and (let’s face it) fear of what could happen had meant that you’d missed out.

It was only as she threw her head back at one of his comments that it hit you, you were jealous. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in years. Ever since your last relationship you had lacked almost every kind of emotion. You’d dated people since but that connection was never really there which is why you were full of confusion at the situation presenting itself to you. The feelings felt foreign to your body and you weren’t sure how to deal with them, so you did the one think that you were too young to do back then. Get drunk and try to forget about them for a night.

"Are you listening? Drink up, we're leaving in a second!" Arthurs voice provided a distraction from your thoughts whilst encouraging them. You tilted your head back as you finished the remainder of your champagne, your arm was already reaching out for the nearest bottle to see if you could sneak in a quick refill. You didn’t even like champagne but after having run out of cocktails about an hour ago you didn’t really have much choice. In any other situation you would’ve declined and waited until you were at the club but you weren’t really in the mood to sober up right now. You got up to follow everyone to the taxis, deciding that the bottle had too much in to be left at the table to waste, but not enough in that you couldn't finish it before you reached you destination. Putting the bottle to your lips this time, you took another gulp.

He noticed. He noticed the vast amount of alcohol you had consumed thus far. The unbothered façade you'd displayed during dinner was picked up by him the second he’d glanced in your direction. Your eyes often met his across rooms, at events, in the paddock, even at family dinners and it was always followed by a shared smile, but tonight you hadn't even looked at him and he couldn't stand it. Although he couldn’t be certain, he had a good idea what the cause was. Guilt was slowly consuming his thoughts. He shouldn’t have felt guilty, there was no real reason to, yet he did.

He knew if he had come alone you would've had a couple of drinks with dinner, just enough to prepare yourself for the club afterwards, allowing the sweaty people and sticky floor to become slightly bearable. He also knew that you weren't a huge drinker and that the lack of food you had consumed at dinner would only worsen the matter which was evident as he watched you fall into a taxi with Arthur and Carla as he climbed into a separate one with Pierre and, what they appeared to be to everyone else, their ‘dates’.

The club was busy, everyone excited to be back on the dance floor after its absence over the past year or two. Although it would've been nice to spend some more time with him, you were thankful that the crowds had engulfed you so you'd lose sight of Charles and her. You'd found your way to the middle of the dance floor and you remained there for hours losing track of time and somehow your friends too.

Unbeknown to you, Charles had lost his 'date' at the first chance he had. He'd met her on a boat during the day with Pierre and when his best friend had invited her best friend for dinner he felt bad for not doing the same. He was sitting at the bar with Pierre who'd picked up on the amount of attention he was paying you as you danced along with random strangers. The Frenchman questioned what he was doing when he noticed Charles tighten his jaw. Charles nodded his head in your direction and the pair watched as a man approached you.

The guy in front of you was only offering to buy you a drink but you knew you were way over your limit. You'd politely declined, naively assuming that he'd disappear back into the sea of faces but that wasn't the case. Your refusal  clearly not accepted as he insisted. grabbing onto your arm in an attempt to pull you in the direction of the bar. Yanking your arm out of his grip you instantly managed to sober up as you came to the realisation you were going to have to fight this battle alone.

Charles knew you were a big girl, that you could handle yourself in almost any situation thrown your way, but as the guy reached out to touch you he could've sworn he moved quicker than his Ferrari. His presence shocked you as you flinched slightly at the unfamiliar grip on your waist.

"It's just me ma belle." Charles whispered calmly into your ear, placing a feather light kiss onto your cheek. Relief instantly washed over your body. You wished you could focus on the conversation that Charles was now having with the strange man in front of you but you couldn't. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your skin heating beneath Charles' fingertips and the tingling sensation that lingered where he'd planted the kiss. He'd never touched you before, the brief hugs being the most contact you'd ever shared, and now he was standing in a club with his hand around your waist as he fended off a random guy who'd taken an interest in you. "I think we should head home." When Charles spoke it felt as though each word was coated in sex as it left his lips. He hadn't meant it in a sexy way, you knew that. He wanted to take you home so you were safe. However his intense grip on your waist and his stubble lightly grazing your cheek when he leaned in to speak to you was putting thoughts into your mind that you knew shouldn't be there.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking for the first time that night. Your eyes always showed a lot of emotion. Your body language was often hard to read but you always made eye contact when you spoke. He frequently used it to determine what mood you were in but this time he was met with one he'd never seen before. Despite them having a drunken glaze, your dilated pupils held a look of lust. He could've sworn you were mentally undressing him. You weren't. Instead you were thinking of how much you wanted him to undress you.

"I think that's a good idea." He could hear the smirk in your voice over the sound of the music as you let your lips gently brush his ear lobe while you spoke. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath in an attempt to pull himself together. You were disappointed when his hand left your side but satisfied when it quickly intertwined itself with yours. His skin was softer than you were expecting, the rough patches slowly disappearing over the summer break. Your hands remained that way as you walked through the streets of Mykonos. Neither of you spoke, you just remained in a comfortable silence. As the villa came into view Charles was basically marching down the street, his strides increasing as your little legs tried to keep up. He dropped your hand when he reached the door, searching his pockets for the key to unlock it.

The villa was colder than you were expecting, a shiver ran down your spine as the air con hit you. You headed towards the kitchen and grabbed your sweater off one of the bar stools, sliding it on over your outfit.

“So you’d let Carla drive your car huh?” his face instantly broke out in a smile as you relieved some of the tension between you both. “You know that’s not true.” Charles followed you to the kitchen and watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the counter. He poured a glass of water and took a sip before handing it to you which you gratefully accepted.

“You’d let your date drive it instead?” He rolled his eyes as he chuckled at your sarcasm, hoping that you’d forgotten about the girl he’d sat next to during dinner as quickly as he had. “How many girls get a turn before me?” Although he didn't let it show, your question had offended him slightly. Despite his popularity with women he was never one to disrespect them, especially not you. He took a step closer to you, standing directly in front of your legs that were pressed firmly together.

“You’re the only one I want to see in that seat mon Cherie,” That was one nickname that he’d never called you, yet it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly. He leaned against your legs and you slowly parted them so he could stand in between, closing the distance between you both. “I’d let you drive it again in a heartbeat.” Your eyes were fluttering between his eyes and lips, your stare only breaking when he leaned in to speak in your ear just like he’d done in the club. He placed a kiss on your cheekbone and slowly worked his way up to your ear.

“You looked very sexy behind the wheel of my car.” You locked your hands with his while he continued to speak, closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to try and calm your heart rate down. You wanted to say something back, engage more in the conversation, but for the first time in a long time you were at a loss for words. You loved driving, you'd often join the boys go karting growing up and learned to drive as soon as you could, so when Charles asked if you wanted to drive his Ferrari back to your home after your Harrods shopping trip you were more than excited. It was a nice change from the train ride you were expecting.

He'd watched your eyes light up when you realised he was being serious. It was the closest you'd ever been to driving something even remotely similar to an f1 car despite it being different in so many ways. Your smile was infectious as you put your foot down on the motorway, leaving London behind. You'd never even driven an automatic car so this was a completely new experience. He'd taught you how to use the paddles to manually change gears if you wanted to and how to shift through its different modes as you drove around. The only disappointing part of the journey was reaching your destination, your trip home considerably quicker than you would've wanted. After spending the whole time focused on going fast and not crashing, you'd selfishly not noticed how Charles was feeling throughout the drive.

He'd been trying to keep his eyes trained on the road in front of him but couldn't help steal a glance in your direction every now and then. He was always surrounded by fast cars, something he realised after seeing you sat in his driving seat he'd begun to take for granted. He felt overwhelmed with pride, he was the one who was making you this happy. He felt privileged seeing you this free as your hair flew around in the wind while you rested a hand out the side of the car, trying to resist the force of the air pushing it back. It was his turn to be selfish as he realised that he always wanted to keep that moment for himself. He didn't want anyone else to make you feel like this, give you this experience. He wanted to be the one to make you smile.

“Don’t go quiet now mon Cherie.” That nickname. Again. “I think we still need to discuss what happened in the shower.” You instantly snapped back into reality at the mention of the shower. His hand fell from yours and toyed with the bracelet on your wrist. The one that you nervously played with in situations like these. The one that he’d gifted you last year. The one with his name etched into it.

The morning that you'd woke up in Charles' bed you were alone. An empty bed was something you'd become accustomed to over the past couple of years but in this instance it made you awaken quicker. The note left on his pillow stopped you from worrying, he was out on a run.

You respected his commitment to his career and took the opportunity to go for a shower. The warm water felt refreshing against your skin, goose bumps slowly appearing across your skin at the sudden change in temperature. Rubbing Charles shower gel into your skin you closed eyes and lent your head against the tiled shower wall. It wasn't clear at what point you'd become so aroused, but  the steam from the shower and the smell of Charles covering you definitely had something to do with it. You allowed your hands to roam your body, his name unexpectedly falling from your mouth as you brushed past your breasts. The careless use of his name had caused your eyes to widen and your hand to clamp over your mouth. It had left you lips so naturally but felt inappropriate to say aloud.

It wasn't until a few days later that you realised he'd heard. He almost hadn’t. If he’d unlocked the apartment a mere three seconds later your words wouldn’t have reached his ears. His run had been sweaty and he was still out of breath but his panting soon stopped. His eyes widened as he heard his name leave your lips and he froze. He didn’t want to announce his presence, he knew he wasn’t supposed to hear it and didn’t want you to feel embarrassed that he had. He didn’t know what to do. He felt as though he was invading your privacy but knew that if he shut the door you’d hear it close and know he was there. So instead he stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe to keep it slightly open as he waited for the sound of the shower to finish running. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but he failed. All he could think about was you, in his shower, without him and how badly he wanted to join you, just so he could make his name fall from your mouth the way it just did over and over again.

You thought you'd gotten away with it. He'd entered the apartment just as you were stepping out the bathroom and he'd acted as cool as ever. The weekend was slowly becoming a distant memory that you were trying hard not to dwell on, hating that you were missing his presence so much already. It wasn't until you were at work the following week that it became apparent your secret crush was no longer a secret. You were in the office early, earlier than everyone else. That wasn’t unusual, you liked to be in early as it often meant you could leave earlier too. What was unusual was the box placed neatly on your desk.

Although the small parcel was addressed to you, you opened it with hesitation. A small gasp left your lips as your unwrapping revealed a red box, the golden engraving of the word ‘Cartier’ on top. Confused, you gently opened to box revealing a bracelet.

You placed it on your desk as you searched for a note. Despite it being awfully obvious who it was from, you wanted some kind of confirmation or, better yet, a reason as to why someone had put this into your possession. You'd spotted it in Harrods with Charles. You hadn't mentioned it, just spent a few minutes mindlessly staring at its beauty. There was no point even considering buying it for yourself, the price tag was close to your yearly salary. Eventually you found the note. 

'I've heard you like to moan it'

You picked up the bracelet once more, analysing it as you did so. It was so discreet, discreet enough that if the note wasn’t a big enough hint you might never have realised. His name. Etched into the inside of the band in the same font as the word ‘Cartier'. Any other name and he wouldn’t have been able to get away with it. No one had picked up on its personalisation in the past year. It had remained your little secret.

You gulped loudly, unsure of what to say next. The dull lighting hid your cheeks as they flushed red with embarrassment, just like they'd done when you'd read his note. Luckily it was situations like these you considered your stubbornness a strength. "All I could thing about was how much I wanted you to touch me Charles." With your lips dangerously close to Charles' ear you'd somehow managed to complete your sentence with confidence. The conviction in your voice had satisfied Charles although it was obvious that he hadn't expected it as he pulled his head back slightly to look you in the eyes. It was the first time you'd seen them so dark out of his crash helmet. They didn't have the same teasing smile paired with them as they did only a few moments ago. For a brief moment your heart dropped. What if he was just teasing you and you'd taken it too far? 

"Say something." Your voice was barely audible despite the eerie silence that had settled in the kitchen as Charles picked up on your nervousness. His expression softened but he remained silent, placing his forehead against yours and gently brushing your noses. You both very quickly realised there was no longer the need for words. The last thing either of you wanted to do right now was have a conversation about what was going on because quite honestly neither of you were sure. All you knew was that as soon as the space between your lips closed, there was no going back. You were craving each other's touch and it was as though the kiss you were yet to share would be the seal of approval you both needed to explore each other in a way you hadn't before.

You'd had enough of the teasing, enough of the wondering and what ifs, enough of wasting time without knowing how his lips felt against yours. You moved your head up slightly brushing your lips with his before releasing one of your hands from his grasp and placing it on the back of his head, pulling it down slightly. As soon as your lips pressed against his you became overwhelmed with emotions. You relaxed into it, it felt so right. His hands began to explore your body, one placed on your thigh and the other tracing lines up and down your back, sitting on the counter top had worked in your favour as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't long before his tongue found yours as you let your hands snake beneath his shirt feeling his back and arms tense beneath you as he lifted you up from the side and placed you on the dining table which was at a slighter lower level. 

His mouth left yours and you let out a small groan of frustration, he smiled at the sound as you realised he was only doing it to strip you of the sweater you'd not long ago put on, allowing him to rid you of it, not caring how cold it was anymore. In between the kisses he was placing down your neck you pulled his top over his head. Your eyes were trained to his shoulders as you admired him, only shutting when he re-joined your lips. 

The sound of a key turning the lock at the front door caught Charles' attention. There was a high chance he'd consumed less alcohol than you tonight which is why he giggled slightly when you chose to ignore the sound and bring him back in for another kiss. 

“WE’RE HOME” Arthur voice echoed round the villa. The sound of his brothers voice was enough for you to release him from your grip.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh, it’s 3am people will be sleeping.” Carla tried to whisper but the tiled walls carried the sound throughout the villa. You didn’t know if anyone else was home, you hadn’t checked and to be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. The only thing on your mind was Charles.

“Y/N and I are in the kitchen,” Charles called back. His eyes never left yours as he grabbed his shirt you'd thrown across the kitchen and redressed himself, not until Arthur stumbled through the door way knocking into chairs and making them squeal as the legs glided across the floor. You both watched as he regained balance and muttered a drunken apology before sitting himself on the floor.

"Good night Arthur?" you laughed slightly at the sight of him on the floor, he'd never been the most elegant drunk but at least he was entertaining.

"Great night." He confirmed as he laid himself down, a laugh leaving Carla's lips as she stared at the state of him. If someone had spoken to you a couple of hours ago you would've probably had a different opinion but as it turned out, you were starting to agree with him.

TAGLIST

@imthebadguyyy @abysshaven @phatyak​

#f1 imagine #f1 masterlist #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #pierre gasly #lando norris #george russell #lewis hamilton #valteri bottas #carlos sainz

[haadeswrites]

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it. 

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child. 

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well. 

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call. 

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse. 

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’ 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined. 

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her. 

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?” 

And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.” 

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?” 

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression. 

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet… 

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following. 

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading. 

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home. 

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions. 

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain. 

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him. 

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi. 

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part. 

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours. 

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well. 

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for. 

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to. 

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight. 

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him. 

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight. 

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion. 

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering. 

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms. 

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night. 

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?” 

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be. 

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach. 

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves. 

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach. 

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head. 

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river. 

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn. 

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired. 

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north. 

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night. 

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore… 

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it? 

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.” 

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island. 

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment. 

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage. 

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. 

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side. 

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly. 

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first. 

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable. 

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out. 

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes. 

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.  

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise. 

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually. 

Time slows. 

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at. 

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally– 

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound. 

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips. 

It wasn’t him. It was never him. 

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.” 

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care. 

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though. 

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch. 

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again. 

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to. 

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you. 

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter. 

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most. 

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood. 

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!” 

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks. 

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #cult au #tw: religious themes #tw: dubcon #tw: blood #tw: minor character death #tw: abuse #hades.dark #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader