#Yolanda and Lucy deserve so much better than what happened to them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thenickelportrust · 6 years

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rena my darling i desperately need a flipped version of that ask i sent a few days ago. if the ro was dying in mc’s arms, what are the last words they’d say and things they’d do? – 🐻

You’re really feeling the drama and I approve.

Finley: There’s so much to say- so much to do-… and so little time. They’ll summon all the strength they can to reach up and brush away the MC’s tears, letting their hand linger on their cheek. If there’s only one thing they want to leave them with, it would be this: “I love you.”

They feel their free hand tighten around their wrist, squeezing it as tight as they can as if it could anchor them to this waking world- even if just for a few moments more. “I love you.”

Even when their voice breaks and they can’t see anymore they still try to will the words out. So much to say. So very much to say, and they can’t even get out those three words.

Raf: Are they hurt? They’re crying- why are they- ah, right. He’s dying. He doesn’t want them to cry, he’s never- he hates making them cry. But they’re not hurt- are they? He tilts their chin, as if checking to see if there are any bruises or cuts, “Are…” Talking hurts- his body seems to fighting against him and Raf doesn’t need futuresight to know where this is going, “Are you alright?”

He had hoped for more time- more time to do what he wanted, more time to spend with them, more time… But almost everybody wishes for that. But if they’re alright- if they’re ok and they can make it out of here alive then…

Then he can be at peace.

Then he can go.

Jacob: The coldness was not unfamiliar to Jacob. Neither was the sensation of bleeding out, and for a moment he couldn’t remember where he was or when it was- was it years ago, with the ghost of police sirens echoing in his ear as he bled out on a cold factory floor to the sound of gunfire deflected with the flick of a villain’s wrist… No, he was alone then- or as alone as he could have been surrounded by the sounds of shouting and people fighting- he’s not alone here. Jacob is not alone- because he’s there.

Jacob traces the line of his jaw- it’s hard to see but he knew this face by memory. His throat felt choked, and it was too difficult to say anything. So instead, Jacob forced himself to smile.

Lucy: Dammit, dammit, dammit! Things were not supposed to end this way. She should be up, she should be fighting, she… she should have been stronger. She’s stronger now, isn’t she? The fight isn’t over until she’s dead- and she’s not- she can’t- she refuses to die. She can’t. No. She… She…

She’s dying.

The weight of that hits Lucy like someone just dropped a block on ice on her stomach.

No! No she can’t… She can’t just… She can’t just give in. She can’t give up. Lucy has never given up- she’ll never give up. Not until the bitter end which this isn’t- this isn’t!

She swore she’d not make them cry again and they’re crying because of her now. No, she’s not going out like that. Lucy keeps her promises. She wants to reach out and touch them but she’s scared of just how much she’d be able to control her strength. So instead, Lucy makes a promise, “Just give me a minute to rest… I… I promise, we’ll get out of here together. I promise. I promise…”

Lucy had always kept her promises. Always until then.

Yolanda: Yolanda takes a deep breath and coughs it back out- the feeling of air sickening against her lungs. No. That’s not right. She forces down another gulp of air, holding it deep within her for as long as she can- until she starts to choke on it. Again. And again. Refusing to let breath go.

Refusing to slip away peacefully.

But it is a losing battle, and she can acknowledge that sometimes its better to walk away and take a loss. But this is not a loss she could walk away from- is it? Nor is it one she could fight…

She feels something wet against her cheek but she refuses to cry at her own death- if she’s going to go out, she’s going to leave on her own terms. Holding her own tears to her chest like a last treasure-

But they’re not Yolanda’s tears, are they? They’re hers. Yolanda reaches to her cheek and dabs away that which does not belong to her. A last gift, she thinks, a farewell.

She reaches for her hand, presses warm fingers to cold lips in a last kiss, if she has to go, at the very least its in the arms of the only woman she’s ever, truly, loved. “Do not mourn me long, my dear.” She forces her head to turn- to look her in the eyes, “You have so much life left to live.”

Eileen: She… She isn’t really sure what’s happening at first. Somewhere, deep down, she knows exactly what’s going on. But the better part of her is refusing to acknowledge the fact. Refusing to know that she is dying.

She’s just tired.

Eileen’s been tired for a long time. Since coming to Nickelport? Maybe. She’s worked hard to get here- not here- but where she is in life. Is? Was. Is. She deserves to rest a little, doesn’t she?

She’s too cold- but she’s surrounded by warmth. She knows this warmth. She cuddles close to it, breathing out slowly. She can’t say anything. If she did then that darker part that knows what’s happening would surely come out and she… She’s too tired to deal with that right now.

She just wants to rest. Just a tiny bit.

Informant: He is dying.

He knows that, he doesn’t think its worth it to deny. He is dying. And that means that, even though he doesn’t want to, even though he wants to wrap them up in his arms and tell them all will be ok, even though he wants to kiss away their tears and let them know that everything will be fine, that he’ll be alright, that they’ll make it together here like they have with so much before, he can’t. He was always a terrible liar.

Is it ridiculous that, in this moment, he knows he’s dying, but all he wants to do is make sure they’re not crying? To comfort them? To draw them close and hold them tighter than he ever possibly could? Maybe. Maybe not.

He already knew he was going.

But he had to- to say something- to do something- anything. The Informant was sure how loud his voice would be, he gestured for them to lean in close and pressed a wavering kiss to their cheek, “You’re the most amazing person I’ve known.”

Ricky: He never thought about how he’d die. Then again, he guesses most people don’t- fixate on it enough and it’d drive just about anyone insane. Still, he never… Ricky never thought he’d be going like this.

There’s so much he’s yet to do. But… no, none of that matters now. Not when he manages to turn his head and see them crying- all that anxiety about things not done flies out the window in a moments notice. Ricky grasps their hand in his- it’s not really something does on purpose- he’s not sure he can do anything on purpose anymore. Not sure he has the strength. It’s just muscles moving subconsciously, words that fall before he can really think of them- “I’m so sorry.”

For what? For not saying ‘I love you’ enough? For those early days, when he was so cruel? For everything?

“I’m sorry.”

V: “Don’t cry, darling,” It was harder to smile than normal- everything seemed harder than normal- breathing was harder, moving to cup their face was harder- tracing the edge of those crying eyes and quivering lips was harder. This was not what they planned. “It will all be fine.”

Would it? V wasn’t sure anymore. And they’d never been not-sure, they didn’t like it. This was not what they planned. Still, V forced a grin, teeth bared against the pain, and they struggled against the scratching, coughing sensation that rattled their chest when they breathed. “I think I might have to stay behind a bit, my love. Don’t… wait up for me.”

#angst o'clock pt 3 #revenge of teds #answers #model citizens unmasked #everyone #death

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