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@sunxsin // ling

Perfect Addiction (2023)

#❝ r. bennett ❞ ┆ inspiration ┆ this is the beginning of the third act !

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@kostenkos // julie

I CARE A LOT (2020) dir. J Blakeson

#❝ a. liddell ❞ ┆ inspiration ┆ but it's no use going back to yesterday !

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NAN ST. GEORGE ↴ The Buccaneers | Women or Wives ( 1.02 )

#❝ m. mckinnon ❞ ┆ visage ┆ this is my idea of fun !

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there's always that hope, isn't there. fragile, small, inside of all people. one where they just wanted their parents to love them. rue knows it's not always easy, she's been both the problem child, and watched what it did to a person in lexi to have that person not quite love you back the way that you hoped for. how that want never really GOES AWAY, and maybe rue's just spared that by the virtue of her own dad being dead. but with her mom, it was like... even after everything, she still missed her. loved her. it hadn't mattered that she'd been kicked out of the nest and made to fly way sooner then she felt fucking ready for. she just... wanted that feeling back that used to be there. the one where you feel protected, and cared for, where nothing you did seemed to push them away...

hands left SHAKING as she holds onto his phone. listening to it ring, and ring, until it finally picks up. rue hasn't spoken to the man in years - she doesn't have enough time, or energy in the moment to be awkward, stumbling over her own words to tell him that ling was sick, and needed him. what else was she supposed to do? the whole thing had her seized in survival mode, none of which meant that she was exactly thinking logically herself. instead she's caught up in the anxiety of is he okay, and what the fuck happened, already a mess by the time the doorbell rings.

it doesn't strike her that she never actually told him where they live. it's not really like - on her mind until hours later, when everything's already gone wrong. yeah, future rue? didn't really fucking LOVE her for making the call that she did. she's bitten her bottom lip raw, pale and shaken from holding onto his hand as he seemed to thrash in a pain he couldn't describe to her. nothing he said was even really making sense to her, and she'd honestly fucking do anything for an answer now. "j-just... do you know what happened? can we fix this?"

- @sunxsin

He didn’t have time (or the breath) to explain his reasoning– his father had to know what was wrong with him, right? He hates the thought of it alone, that crushing feeling in the pit of his stomach. Because at the end of the day, he was still scared of his father, still bombarded with memories of them when he was away: away from rue, away from his friend, far off, and away to a place where he couldn’t really get help EVEN IF HE WANTED TO. The times he spent alone, wondering if he’d ever see rue again if he’d ever step foot into nevermore again. He still remembers the memory of being in the car, the day after he and rue had kissed, looking back out the window, knowing no one would know where he’d go, or why he left… the anger and resentment he’d leave behind, while his hands were shaking with the realization that he was, in fact, truly alone. 

And now, he was running back to him– when he had EVERYTHING HE WANTED, this is what it came down to. But… why? Why was he doing this? 

And like, in a way rue was right. His dad was an asshole, and wouldn’t care about his well-being… but maybe he would. After all, wasn’t he an extension of his father? Isn’t that why he came to jericho to become some small-town mayor? He could have had a high-end business in hong kong, been part of the top 1% there, or hang out with the chaebols in seoul. The possibilities for this man were aimless- and even A BIT SCARY. And yet he chose this, and there had to be a reason… maybe he did care about him, didn’t he? 

He feels his chest constricting again, feeling that sharp pain as he was half-over the bed. He gags, coughs, sees red on the floor. It felt like his heart was going to burst, the only thing keeping him in reality was the sound of RUE’S VOICE, and his keen ears hearing the sound of his father’s:

‘I’M ON MY WAY.’

@redemptioninterlude

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ r. bennett ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ i didn't build this system ! #❝ r. bennett ❞ ┆ horror verse ┆ trying to outrun your anxiety ! #sunxsin

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@earthsync - emily gets a new follower starter !

the road's familiar - and the radio plays new songs over the old backdrop. nothing but snowy mountains and a bumpy road, both her and emily coming up with her boyfriend coming on the way behind them, the both of them singing brokenly to what's on, now, THE RITUAL OF IT ALL. girlhood still held its own small foothold into what was their far more interesting takes on being young and in college. the only thing that feels surprising is that they're even back here in the first place. there's something... unsettling. and they talk about it when they're stopping for food along the way on the drive up from their town, over too-salty french fries and dry chicken nuggets. it's weird, right?

that josh wants to be here AT ALL after... well.

they don't really need to GO THERE right now.

the whole thing was kind of fucked up, and they all knew it. that a prank turned into a whole fucking thing when the sisters had gotten lost out there in the middle of a white out. all of them left twisted with some kind of guilt, especially avery, knowing she'd full and well participated in the whole thing in the first place. it wasn't supposed to be a BIG DEAL or anything but... hurt people aren't exactly rational, are they?

she spins the dial, looking behind her at the car rumbling in their wake. "awww, think he's sad that he's not in here with us? he always reminds me of a PUPPY DOG. but i mean, cute. i love that for you. i figured he'd be the one who'd be the most freaked out about coming back here, pero, i guess he's got better nerves then i ever thought." that sharper cut of her tongue, but, with emily, she's only ever been her most honest self. "i haven't hung out with some of these people in forever. i can't even tell if that's a good or a bad thing anymore."

- @earthsync

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ a. serrano ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ and can you make it last forever ! #❝ a. serrano ❞ ┆ horror verse ┆ all these voices in the background of my brain ! #earthsync

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what does he know? she wants to sing to him and pull out the truth from where he folds it within his tongue, this avatar of pride, and ever suffering demon. there's so many IFS, ANDS AND MAYBES here that the road is simply blood splattered with the possibilities of it all, but does that stop her? no! there'd be no guts, no glory in that, and alice is wreathed in the viscera of it all. but there he sits, with funeral bells ringing within his gaze, and she's left wondering what other alice has done to him, for him, with him to leave him shaken and unstirred, watching... for what? a hint, a glimmer? alice peels at the options and finds that occam's razor would leave her disturbed for what she finds as the logical answer, but no, hardly! not the demon of pride themselves, because what was alice, if not some bastard of fate and mortal bones? ground up and spat back as the ghost, the vision of herself, so perfectly animated and made real, that none might find the flaw, the cracks, save those who -

... well. that's a WHOLE THING too. but hardly unexpected with her, somehow, she thinks... no. that's not fair. there she is, scrubbing off responsibility in the moment because it feels, somehow, both claustrophobic and uncomfortable. because to know these dug up things would be to shatter something special, and meaningful. that to know that he may have loved her once feels an odd and sad thing for something that she couldn't quite remember, never really, never fully. it's always there, in halfway form, and besides the obvious blunders among humanity, their lives never quite last long enough for her to find herself held accountable for her carelessness. but lucifer? well that's different isn't it? thousands and thousands of years and war scars have laden themselves upon a monster made neutral form, and a thin veneer of civility. is it enough? she can feel them all longing to ask her - for her to be at ease, to accept them in this house, that screams in the night, made up for a girl just like her? funny, how the room was all decked to her taste, as if she'd been here before, and now she's left to wonder, has she been, had she been, once, in a room like this, with this man, having this same conversation?

it was the definition of madness to repeat the same thing, again and again, and hope for a different outcome. perhaps this too was a part of the cycle that they'd found themselves sunk within, thus his reactions, his clinical attempts to distance himself. and yet, she continued on, alice with her jagged teeth and dogged attempts to pry open but a crack of him to pour out from. but was she ready for what she finds instead? that GAPING WOUND that demands attention - how she can't quite look away from it, lips drawn thin, grim. the one that she's left, unwitting, with a knife, and while part of her longs to know ( how? when? why? ) these are questions that her mouth can't quite unglue itself to speak. what an irony given the ease with which she allowed other nonsense to trip and fall out without issue. a breath gathered and drawn, trying again, another route, could she speak it? make it? "well now! a woman isn't a reason to lose yourself. life! is a mysterious thing. and it only ever lasts so long. shouldn't you be celebrating the goodness you had when it was there rather than lamenting its loss? or..."

no, no, oh she knows that unstoppable feeling, where something awful crawls right out of her mouth. it's a disease, this. despite seeing the hurt, the pain of it, alice goes marching right on, pressing on the bruise of his ego, his pride, his reason. "or is that guilt instead?" fingers on the table, slip, they spread further, split apart and smudging glass. she knows and doesn't know. it's an awful things to have to hold in your chest, to know what betrayal and love tasted like in tune, gaze holding harder to his own. unwilling to back away as she hopped right into his space, insistent and demanding. that he presents to her the cold facts of what has doomed them before, and perhaps, a path that she's taken over and over, praying, fevered, for a chance to prove that he was worthy of REDEMPTION even before god himself. wouldn't she have fought him, for that chance? "did you?" maybe she sounds a little hurt then. she's only human. "trick me, i mean. did you trick me? did you kill me with purpose and intent behind it all, lucifer? be honest. maybe we might not have another chance to be candid with one another again. let's make the most of it, while it's ours."

- @dangaer

           it's a startling sensation, to miss the very being that has been reborn right before his eyes, a woman sharing the same face to a corpse as the world carries on around them regardless, opinions spoken as if brought back from a previous time and each identity blurring into one, each sentience a nostalgic pang towards the demon pride's own heart, echoing between his worn bones despite the picture of indifference he tries to make. shallow is a cheap descriptor of his love, yet it hurts more to recall what it once was ━━ more than the coquettish tone and the way such a pet name slips from her own daring lips despite the way he wishes he could convince himself to not be so naive, that the use of something she has called him many times both breathless and with awe is merely a result of her personality above all else, but the mourner in him wishes to think that perhaps, deep down, her words remain the prompt of a life she has come to remember in his presence.

distantly, he wonders if any of his brothers have felt the same, hearing words so reminiscent of a morgue of a girl they have long since ventured to let go.

low breath in, an even longer exhale; nostalgia will be what he blames as his lips are quick to curl upwards, something akin to mirth sparkling in the forefront of his irises as she continues to tease; her curiosity is as damning as it is relieving, an anchor that keeps him closer with every stray thought that escapes the tinkering of her mind. as much as he has tried to dig his feet in to send her away, to ensure her safety within this house's very own walls and blissfully unattached to the souls who have brought her demise quicker than they can say, he is not above admitting to his own selfishness ━━ he is rather grateful to see that smile directed towards him for just one more time.

❛  was it my mistake to doubt you? insanity is what they call it, when someone continues to do the same thing over and over and expects a different result every time. ❜ he folds his arms, though not unkindly, spine straight, still, as his gaze still rests heavily upon her now quizzical features rather than the space around her he wishes to seek. ❛  i'd recommend you remember what happened before acting surprise at such a sudden change. would any man be expected to stay the same, if the woman he loved passed away in his very own arms? ❜

bringing up such an elephant in the room strikes a chord within him, reminder sudden but apparent in the way he can't help but turn away briefly, a clearing of his throat in response; with minimal exception does he recall the hand of his arm becoming one enveloped with his own, the hallways and corridors reflected with their laughter once more, and he knows he looses his argument, the moment he slips to allow her space to come closer, but it does not mean he is willing to part with such grief, at least, towards someone who no doubt deserves better than to be trapped in the same chances, a lamb to a slaughter she is uncertain of ever taking place. his expression attempts to soften, scowl shifting to a frown as he pushes such doubts aside for the moment being in favour of hearing her own twists to the tale.

❛  doesn't such an ending spell out bad news for you? if you could not understand us then, who is to say we'll get it right now?  ❜ he offers following another pause in turn, considering such points in turn ( puzzle? ━━ he has spent countless times being referred to as confusing, but never so predictable in the same breath. )   ❛  who is to say i didn't trick you in the first place? that this life was a gift to absolve you of all those previous mistakes? demonkind has never been one for the faint hearted, a fact you should know well.   ❜ / @redemptioninterlude cont'd!

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ a. liddell ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ i wonder which way i ought to go ! #❝ a. liddell ❞ ┆ canon verse ┆ curious and curiouser ! #dangaer

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#❝ a. liddell ❞ ┆ inspiration ┆ but it's no use going back to yesterday !

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something terrible has happened - and she doesn't know what to do. because rue is like, someone who always holds onto the edges of what she gets and doesn't with ling. how she's learned so many GOOD THINGS about herself, and how she's like, grown ( or hasn't ) in a lot of ways. it's supposed to showcase that she's like, becoming a better person, or something like it, for love. but right now there's a selfish cramp that spasms within her that demands that she ignore his request to her, because frankly, she can barely process how insane he's speaking right now.

"your dad is an asshole and would be more likely to tell you to GET OVER IT then help us." and if she wasn't shaking or terrified, maybe she wouldn't be as afraid of this aor maybe she wouldn't have had more armed with her in the moment then a bitchy comment, because honestly? she's like, kind of considering it, because given the ongoing public sentiment which wasn't great thanks to a homicidal professor and an even more unhinged student, maybe she knew that in a way, ling could be right. where would he be safe with this? and maybe, surely... his own father wouldn't turn him away when he was this sick, right?

rue doesn't even have his number. she has to grab at his phone and find him in his contacts, the small things that he does to keep her safe from the man that she remembered through their own shared childhood as playing the tyrant. always calm, but furious, whenever he came by her place to find his son, as if he coudln't quite take the nest around him. well. "H-HELLO?" anxiety sending a tremour through her voicce, teeth dragging at her bottom lip for this. "it's- o-oh it doesn't matter. ling's so sick, a-and i need help, he's... he's saying some crazy things and i don't know what to do."

- @sunxsin

he could barely register when rue came home. normally, he could sense it the moment she was down the block– call it their innate connection to one another. he always knew when she was coming home, how she was feeling if she was tired or needed to feed. he was always so alert, normally so energetic. but rue was right next to him, hands on him, checking on him. and he couldn’t even smell her scent, the PAIN AND CONSTRICTED feeling of his chest so overpowering. and like– god, this isn’t how he planned to spend his weekend right now. 

what was wrong with him? 

he couldn’t speak, not at first. he doesn’t want to go to the nurse, she’s on campus and nowhere near their condo. plus, what kind of hospital would take non-humans like them in? his body gleaming with sweat, his chest going in and out, rapidly, it felt like his heart was going to explode. “no– i–” and what’s worse, was that he was leaving rue alone to try and figure this out– whatever it was. his hand gripped hers, tighter, TIGHTER– he felt like his vision was blurring. and oh god, he knows he’s gonna hate this, but he remembers this feeling, similar, way back, before he returned to the small town of jericho… so he tries to talk again. 

“call my… my dad– he– can help–” can he, though? ling doesn’t want anything to do with his father, and he doesn’t want to drag rue into this. but like– it hurts so much. he feels like he could either pass out or die. “he’s telling me he can–” and it’s true, because his father’s head was ringing in his head, for NO RHYME OR REASON. his breathing shallows, as though he’s hyperventilating, unable to catch a full breath like he needs to.

@redemptioninterlude

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ r. bennett ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ i didn't build this system ! #❝ r. bennett ❞ ┆ horror verse ┆ trying to outrun your anxiety ! #sunxsin

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it's funny. she's so fucking smart, and charming in her own way, it's all too easy to forget the circumstances under which they were meeting. perhaps that was the BANALITY of evil. the realization of how easy it was to wear the role of indifference when push came to shove. she supposes she ought to be ill at ease with herself. but you slip, you fall, you bruise up your knees, and now avery's complicit, isn't she? she's heard the evil plot, and she's stuck around - where's the bravery that she sneered at characters on the screen lacking in her now? the tropes line themselves up, and here she sits a victim in it, as perfectly hypocritical as everyone else. it makes her stew in it. disgusted. but now that's something she has to fucking live with herself knowing, in all it's flawed, ugly glory.

so it's in that moment where she's asked that all she can do is offer up a crooked smile, a rolling of her shoulders. "the one where i survive." it's cold to say, isn't it? easier to swallow then it should be. and maybe this changes her, because, frankly, how could it NOT. the weight of this knowledge alone would be enough to drive her to drink, not to mention the fucking nightmares she's going to have, having seen what caused and listened to those screams on the television. throwing up had done nothing to release the tension that bubbled, sour, rank, within her mouth now. but here shew as, regardless.

something shatters, and the sharp sound of it makes her flinch. none of this feels as natural as the cowardice. and that's fucking UNSETTLING. but the others are running around, looking for weapons or a way out. somebody, the virgin, mentioning the escape to the roof and climbing down over the side. there's a trap door, she'd found it when she'd been exploring earlier. of course. everyone needs a little spark of hope to make everything feel appropriately tense. it's sickening, the way it's formulaic in a way, and how despite being primed and raised on a steady media diet of final girls and summer slashers, everybody, even herself, found themselves at the butt end of some fatalistic overly simplified plot point. "so what. you pump them full of painkillers or something?" sarcasm chews her tone up, dryly. "at least they're all too hopped up on hormones, weed and steroids to know what the hell's happening. better than nothing, i suppose."

- @finalsurvivorgrp

“I can’t imagine the mummies had those plans when they were wrapped up and laid to rest inside of their tombs. But we still pay money to get the chance to look at their resting corpse in some museum. Often thousands of miles away from the world that they knew,” Catherine said thoughtfully. No one had any control over what happened to them when they died. But something that she also learned through working at the Corporation, is that often you don’t have control over what happens to you when you’re alive either. You can make choices and do your best to survive, only to get taken out by a hurricane or an earthquake. “What is the fate you’re interested in?”

Catherine was never going to have a large known impact on the world. She’d be someone that they mention in the history of Directors for people in the Corporation. But she may as well not have existed to the larger world. She wouldn’t even have a gravestone, instead being incinerated at the Corporation. If she had a next of kin, it would go to them. If not, it would be kept with the other remains. There wasn’t much glory in this life.

“If there is another choice, I haven’t found it yet,” Catherine admitted, and she had done her fair share of reading. She knew how often people had a tendency to just do whatever they were told, to not question things. But it seemed as though the earliest recordings did have Directors trying to find alternatives to what they were forced to do. There was really nothing that they could come up with that would satisfy the Old Gods in the way that they demanded. They also didn’t have the benefit of knowing how the rest of the world was doing. So it really must have felt even more on edge than it was for the modern time. Who knows if they were going to fail entirely, that desperation to succeed so that at least one group would save the world.

There was chaos all over the screen once that window was broken. She did her best not to roll her eyes because honestly Fornicus was just being dramatic. He didn’t need to do all that, he could phase through walls without a problem. But the way that he liked to play with people was unmatched. It was amazing that they hadn’t thought on making sure the windows wouldn’t break on them. They were all running like hell through the cabin, trying to find somewhere to hide from what was coming to get them. But not quite actually working together the way that they should have been. “I would prefer not to have any of this happen. We’ve done what we can to make it… Not quite as bad as it could be.”

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ a. serrano ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ and can you make it last forever ! #❝ a. serrano ❞ ┆ horror verse ┆ all these voices in the background of my brain ! #finalsurvivorgrp

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is it HER FAULT that she's been ever so blessed? a curious girl! with a dangerous disregard for personal care. her hands move to clutch at his sleeve, that smile widening further. oh how unhinged her jaw! "victor! you simply must. the world needs to know of your own talents in your own way. you need to grow~ simply staying where you are... is that really good enough for you? do you want to live a life so passive a participant within it? there's so much more out there, more than unbirthdays or tea parties or anything of the like. there's a world out there with your vision in it. and sometimes, you simply need to be a little bit brave to get there."

all excited, spilling, tumbling, tripping - words all clattering together behind her teeth, her laugh, the pure thrill she exudes having to simply be present here, with him, in this moment. victor's a real laugh! even if he's a little bit shy, everyone, in alice's estimation, was simply what they were, and what's to GO MAD over that? "it sounds like what you really want is a map and someone to save you. but victor!" that squeezing of palms, now, she's pulling him back with her as she laughs. "you're the hero of your own story! you don't need anybody!"

isn't that how she saves herself, in that once upon a time? there was no knight, no prince for her. alice is the heroine, who makes both a mess, and saves the day, and defeats the evil queen, and lops off the head of the jabberwock. what an ending that was! a story that felt like it was both hers, and hardly it at all, another life, another her, but her. it didn't have to be all FAIRY TALE NEAT, some things were simply strange! head tilting ever so slightly, frown creasing at the corners of her lips.

"well what do you mean by that?" a stare that bored in too deep, tone pressing into the inside of a cheek, poking through. "oh, and see that, DEAR VICTOR, is why you simply mustn't live according to anybody else. not even me! it must come from the heart. if you feel you haven't a choice, that's utterly untrue. "be honest. what do you want?"

- @viictorvandort

A blossom of pink painted that usual pallor of his. How was it that she made him feel like he was stuck under a microscope, laid bare for her to analyze. He thought of turning the attention around on her, making himself the side character again so that he could fall back on his reserved way of being. But wasn't the whole point of this conversation to help him slowly climb out of his shell? It may prove difficult as of now but it could also help him in the long-run.

"If I had somewhere to go, someone to go with, I'd feel more confident in running away." If he left without a word to his parents, leaving them to handle the aftermath of his disappearance and the gossip that would follow, they would disown him anyway. Would that make him sad? Perhaps. A complicated relationship with one's parents was a tricky thing to navigate. But he'd get over it, wouldn't he? If he had something to look forward to, someone to face the uncertain future with.

"I don't exactly have friends to rely on." He admitted, hand passing over his face as lips curved sheepishly. Never really the sociable sort, was he? Victor didn't mind interacting with others but his shyness held him back. He often made a fool of himself in social settings, which then made him fear repeating the same mistakes the next time.

"And no possible romantic interest of my own choosing." The very idea of him having a romantic partner was hard to imagine. Not that he would be opposed to the idea but he couldn't really think of anything he could offer anyone. It was why his parents were now talking of arranged marriages — his mother made it known that she didn't exactly believe in his ability to make someone fall for him and that a business transaction would be his best bet. And theirs, too. Anything to rise up in the world of the elite.

"Maybe I should be a hermit who lives off his art." A joke but as he said it, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea...

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ a. liddell ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ i wonder which way i ought to go ! #❝ a. liddell ❞ ┆ canon verse ┆ curious and curiouser ! #viictorvandort

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@petitsdieu // hara

Maura & Jane | Rizzoli & Isles 2x08

#❝ f. valentine ❞ ┆ inspiration ┆ easy come easy go !

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it was just… calm. and wasn't that a good thing? rue could say that things were smooth sailing, which was pretty incredible given the fact that things in jericho were rarely ever like that. it's just kind of… thrilling. how the next step in their lives was really coming together, and like, the way that they could go see her mom, and gia soon… she wonders what it'll be like going back to the nest. if they'll be as happy as they seemed when they called, if EVERYTHING would be like, amazing and beautiful and kept together and just -

she's so happy. honestly, she's so happy. so it's concerning, PINCHING at a nerve when she reads the texts from him today. hurting home and finding that when she's coming through the door, that already ling looks so ill. the sheets twist around his waist, he's kicked and pushed and looking like he was about to throw up and she's terrified when dropping everything on the floor, hurrying over to him to take his temperature. and god, he's burning right through, isn't he?

"fuck, fuck- baby i think we need to get you to the nurse!?" panic flutters in her chest, terrified as she squeezed at his palm, already fumbling with her phone. "i-i can carry you, or just… you have to be sick right now." which explains the VOICES he talks about. the lack of lucidity. "did you take anything?"

- @sunxsin

@redemptioninterlude gets a starter!!

it's only been two weeks, since their big play. things were good-- really good. he was spending a lot more time with rue, and they were finally planning a trip to see her family, planning for an inevitable wedding. ling was so particular about it, but rue was so good about it. it was a picture-perfect life, something that ling didn't expect to have. and soon, they'd be out of this SMALL TOWN, away from his father, and everything that came with it...

... but there was a looming feeling. at first, he thought it was in his head. it came in dreams, ling thought it was just the stress of finals. but it got worse, and worse, so suddenly. it was only YESTERDAY that he and rue were out with friends, causing chaos in the town and laughing. and now he couldn't stop shaking, his chest feeling like he was on fire, sweating through the sheets. almost like-- he was losing himself.

he'd lose time, at first it was morning. then the afternoon. he tried texting rue, but it didn't make sense. HE KNOWS IT. but-- she was close, wasn't she? he'd see her soon, wouldn't he?

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ r. bennett ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ i didn't build this system ! #❝ r. bennett ❞ ┆ horror verse ┆ trying to outrun your anxiety ! #sunxsin

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@hedonst // bandit

#❝ a. liddell ❞ ┆ inspiration ┆ but it's no use going back to yesterday !

[redemptioninterlude]

you never simply STAND STILL - panic is what drives things from bad, to worse. that pulling of his breath, as that unease settles within his bones, his blood, his being. but what sookhee can do here is give him a focus. something to pour himself into while she took care of the uglier details that boy like him ought to have no quarter with. leave that to the adults without the same hearts to break, letting him leave to take care of making himself look less like a crime scene, and more like a boy just trying to run errands for his family. innocent. that's how the world needed to see him now, though she could only put out a prayer that he wouldn't let the guilt eat him alive along the way so that they could take care of business.

trauma is the obvious response to death for him. it's not like she's completely unaware of what might trigger the reaction, but she's always been a bit of a practical beast. the door swings ; and he's off. which means now she can do the more gruesome parts of what's to come, exhaling lowly as her hair's tied back, her expression pulled grim. bending, she'll haul the body upwards, best as she's able, dragging off to the side where she could drop it rather UNCEREMONIOUSLY on top of a series of plastic sheets. the first thing that they needed to do after cleaning up this grand mess was to clean down the evidence that they had ever been here. bleach would do in a pinch. she'd have to come back later and burn the place for a proper finale.

the blood pools behind her, but where it doesn't leak out onto concrete. she's scanning the place, back from checking for cameras that might have rendered all of this useless when sasuke returns, breath pulling into her lungs. "cleaning. and then yes, we need to take that-" her thumb jacking over her shoulder, that determination settled along her features. "someplace to a body of water. it's what HELPS HIDE any evidence, so long as we can keep it sunk long enough. why else do you think they go trawling the rivers every spring? all it ever does is add onto the number of unsolved cases in this place." there are things he doesn't need to know, but this? this - this will be what settles, or disturbs his thoughts. he ought to go into this eyes wide open. "just pour it out over all of the blood, and where you know he's been. i'll come back and take care of the rest of it. okay?" okay. she needs to know he's still got it together.

- @fighterbound

Even after barking her orders, Sasuke remains where he is. A moment longer, trying to process what the fuck just happened. It takes every ounce of energy to suppress thoughts of his dead family. That was years ago. This is different. Plus while he can recall every detail of that night...this is different. No matter how hard he squeezes his eyes, he can't remember a single detail. His mind is so blank and empty, any other time he'd be grateful for the respite. How fucking ironic he gets what he wants when he least needs it. Breathing out a ragged breath, he does what he's always given shit for. Pushes down every single emotion. Folds them into small, compact squares and slots them away. No they're not for later, they're for never.

Kicking himself back into gear, he pulls back his shoulders and looks around. The red mess makes his stomach churn. Ignore it. That's not his family nor his focus. Store. Three blocks west. After cleaning himself up, he makes quick work of washing the blood off his skin. Signaling whatever trigged this definitely wasn't planned. It was sparked. By what, he's not sure. All he remembers about this guy is that he was an asshole. Once he restores some normalcy to his appearance, he makes his way to the store Sookhee directed him too.

Usually he'd be more resistant to the orders given, but the situation is shit. He needs all the help to get out of this. She seems to knows what to do from the ease she adapted to the situation. Rubbing his nose with his arm, he looks at the bleach then back at the store once he's a good block away. He wonders what the clerk is thinking. Shaking away the thought, he picks up his pace. He's only thinking that because of his mess.

Gloves in place, he approaches her with the bleach in hand. He watches her for a second, trying to absorb what she's doing. It's a little easer to take in now, knowing what to expect. Blood. A dead body.

"What next?" He asks while adjusting the gloves. "Cleaning?" He guesses, using whatever knowledge he's gleaned from tv shows and movies. Wondering if there's some truth in what they show.

@redemptioninterlude / response to this ask!

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ s. min ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ leaving cheap love behind ! #❝ s. min ❞ ┆ canon verse ┆ how could you come knock on my door ! #fighterbound

[redemptioninterlude]

@serxndipities // keith

WEDDING IMPOSSIBLE 웨딩 임파서블 2024, dir. Kwon Young-Il

#❝ f. valentine ❞ ┆ inspiration ┆ easy come easy go !

[redemptioninterlude]

hey. maybe it wasn't the company that they expected tonight, but somehow? rue sort of felt as if the both of them NEEDED IT. it's sitting there, a visceral feeling that threatens to go and eat her up from the inside. that she's been kind of missing being around people, and living for something that wasn't, like, fucking her up. and it's funny how in a way that iridescent sort of reminds her of another good girl from back home who always was left struggling in trying to figure out who she was beneath the waves of untold pressure that came in from all sides. the parents. the sister. at least she doesn't know if iridescent has one, but she could imagine she had, like, a big brother. a place out in the suburbs, in a nice house, with parents who were together, nuclear and chaotic. it's so easy to imagine her life that she forgot until they actually spoke that she was a whole person beneath all that. real and frustrated and fractured, just like she was.

there was kind of a shared smile between them then, that understanding that hit with newfound camaraderie. "i mean. is that person living your life? no. so like... trying to make everyone else happy... it just kinda drains you, yanno? i just like. realized that with a lot of things it's gotta be something that you REALLY WANT for yourself. and if you don't? you're kind of destined to fail or like... be really fucking unhappy. then what do you do with that feeling, you know? because it's there now and you know it, and it's like, if you don't address it then it becomes this whole thing that really consumes you. it's like your life then, and you can't really look at anybody else and be like... it's your fault, right? because then it's- it's you, you made those choices, you just sorta coasted along and didn't do anything but follow what they wanted and you could have done things differently but you didn't. i dunno. i just think you're better then a life like that." which is like, a lot of words coming out of rue for any given moment, but maybe she's sort of on one tonight. "i'd really really like that. um... here's um... my number." holding up her phone to push against iridescent's own, kind of like, beaming on the inside from it.

- @angelsdvsts

polar opposites -- anyone that meets the two pair together or separate knows that... so would it really be all too weird of them to form some sort of friendship? one where iridescent allows rue to pull her into the darker side of things and one where she pulls the other into a lighter side of things.. a true perfect balance, right? maybe it was always meant to be like that -- people come into a person's life for a reason, it might not be forever.. but they definitely have things to learn from one another outside of what people labeled them as.

for the first time in a while, iridescent actually felt seen -- that she could discuss her inner thoughts without people giving her weird stares or completely blank ones. maybe it was the marijuana lingering in her mind at the moment that just made her feel so carefree -- that her thoughts won't be judged. "yeah exactly -- i never want to disappoint someone, but i realize that sometimes i need to put myself first, y'know? like not in a selfish way, but if i don't then i'll totally spread myself too thin." it was a daily conflict she had with herself, not bothering to do anything about it. just living the life that everyone else wants her to -- feeling that she wasn't truly living for herself. "but no -- i totally get what you mean, thank you for willing to listen to me ramble and what not." she chuckles lightly before nodding her head -- her natural bright smile forming again. "of course! i'd love that.. maybe catch a coffee sometime?"

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ r. bennett ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ i didn't build this system ! #❝ r. bennett ❞ ┆ canon verse ┆ drugs are kind of cool ! #angelsdvsts

[redemptioninterlude]

keith is a strange guy. the sort that would help you out of a jam, despite looking like he'd PLAYED TOO DEEP with the wrong kind of people. purposeful. oddly kind. what a sucker. faye wants to think that he'll meet his, in trusting people when he ought to be protecting his back, that all those that he let crawl about within his garage, they'd come back at him, and make him regret it! but it's... weird. reassuring in a way, that whenever she's stumbling through his part of the universe, he's rather unchanged despite it all. maybe he was just made out of stronger stuff than her - faye's long realized that it's harder to be kind, then bitter. but it's a little too late for her, and maybe she likes black coffee, whisky and bullets now over the sweet promises whispered by those who never intended to stay in the first place... but it's nice that it's working out for him. even she could concede that much.

still, it's just the way he asks what's hooters? with such indignation that faye can't help but burst out laughing. the drink in her hand spills - which leads to an immediate pause, scowling, as she downs whatever's remaining within her glass, licking away the excess that spilled down her wrist, dryly offering up the alternative. from the expression on his face, it seemed that he didn't really EXPECT THAT, sighing with a wave of her hand. "what do you expect? a degenerate place attracts degenerate people. exactly the kinds of people i'm looking to find." so she'll swallow her dignity, because truthfully, she had none. she'd make it happen, she's find her collar. and in her defence, she had - it was just all that followed along with it that lead to the disaster that she was in now. his comment leaves her frozen, trying to play off this whole thing as if it were nothing, nothing at all. but at least he took it all in good humour, instead choosing to complain about the inevitable hangover as she shot him a glance, a wry grin following along with it. "only if you sit here and try to keep up with me. you know, most men would know better by now, but i'm starting to think you really enjoy throwing up the next morning."

the admission comes so smoothly from him that all faye can do is BLINK. once, twice. when was the last time someone said that to her, willingly? even on her last ship, all everyone ever did was find themselves at odds... well... except maybe ed. that kid... what was she up to? it's something she has to shake herself out of, using it as a stiff reminder why found families were bullshit, and everyone out there was just inherently selfish. so why get all caught up within that bullshit? "what, it's not a dirty profession... plus. it means i can work as little as i want if i want to, and i can do whatever i want. what more could you want in life?" lazy, selfish... isn't that what they call her? "wait, don't answer that. i already know you have some disgustingly frustrating answer already in your head." in that they made sense. but she'd rather bite her tongue than admit that.

- @serxndipities

ever  since  he  was  child  ,  keith  understood  the  concept  of  his  choices  could  have  a  potential  consequences.  with  having  a  lack  of  parental  guidance,  he  learned  the  lesson  rather  quickly.  mostly  due  to  him  having  the  responsibility  of  taking  care  of  his  younger  brother,  all  while  navigating  his  way  through  life.  but  that  was  years  ago,  and  now  he  moved  onto  making  a  legacy  in  his  sibling's  honor.  the  biker  had  a  soft  spot  for  the  space  he  created,  he  worked  hard  for  it  to  be  where  it  is  now.  his  blood,  sweat,  and literal  tears  built  the  foundation.   “  what  the  hell  is  hooters?  “  resting  his  elbows  against  the  surface  of  the  bar,  his  brows  furrowed  at  the  thought  of  the  name.  when  she  explained  it,  Keith’s  brow  perked  at  the  mention  of  ‘  strip  club  ‘  then  it  immediately  dropped  due  to  the  personal  label.  she  killed  his  curiosity  with  ease.  what  really  held  his  attention  was  her  going  into  detail  about  the  new  damages.  watching  her  down  what  she  had  left  of  her  drink,  he  chuckled  while  he  shook  his  head  in  an  amused  manner.  “  you  know  what,  “  he  started.  an  ink  covered  hand  went  to  grab  his  own  drink,  passing  a  silent thank  you  to  the  bartender  before  taking  a  rather  long  sip,  purposely  dragging  it  out  for  the  sake  of  being  dramatic  until  he  he  finished  the  glass.  which  for  him  it  wasn’t  difficult  nor  long,  “  at  this  point,  I  think  i'll  leave  you  the  keys  to  the  shop.  “  a  harmless  poke,  “  its  probably  not  as  bad  as  you're  making  it  out  to  be.  don't  be  dramatic.  you  gave  me  less  to  work  with  before,  remember?  “  he  laughed.  resting  against  the  bar  he  cleared  his  throat,  “  I’ll  see  what  I  can  do,  but  if  you  want  to  come  around,  please  do  the  afternoon.  I’m  going  to  have  one  hell  of  hangover  in  the  morning.  “   “  why  would  I  be  lucky  to  see  you?  “  Keith’s  chin  was  tilted  up  as  a  half  grin  started  to  tug  at  the  corner  of  his  lips.  “  believe  it  or  not,  I  think  we’re  friends.  especially  after  getting  me  a  drink—  which  I  did  enjoy,  by  the  way.  thank  you.  “  manners  still  found  its  way  through  his  rambling.  "  wait–  i  just  realized  you  said  '  doing  better  then  the  asshole  i  just  dragged  in  '  ?  "  might  as  well  ask  while  the  opportunity  was  apperant.  "  [  .  .  .  ]  are  you  a  bounty  hunter?  because  with  the  damages  i've  seen  you  give  red  tail  .  .  .  unless  you're  doing  it  on  purpose  but  i  think  you're  smarter  than  that.  " /@redemptioninterlude

#❝ threads ❞ ┆ the revolution will be televised ! #❝ f. valentine ❞ ┆ interactions ┆ shoot before they shoot you ! #❝ f. valentine ❞ ┆ canon verse ┆ you know what they say cowboy ! #serxndipities