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turnpage · 3 years

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❨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

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consoledacup · 3 years

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Actively obsessed with E.J.!! What a remarkable arc this character has. And Matt Cornett has been killing it with this role, especially as the romantic lead this season.

He's so funny, but he also adds so much humanity and sincerity to his seemingly at-first-glance smarmy persona. The thing is, he has crippling insecurity. His bravado of confidence has no bearing on what he actually feels about himself.

When he tells Ashlyn that he can't lose Nini because she makes him better, he's still focusing on himself and what this girl can do for him. He thinks he's on the right track because he found a great girl with depth and heart, but he realizes how selfish and possessive and narcissistic he's been and is disgusted with the person he's becoming.

So he just completely tries to strip down this fabricated prince charming version of himself and begins to examine every part of himself, even the scary parts. And on the other side of that, he stops looking at himself and starts looking at others. And when he falls for Gina, he is absolutely, 100% terrified that Gina does not, and will not ever, love the real him.

The conversation he has with Jamie is pretty telling about his character, even before Jamie brings up the "big brother" of it all. First of all, I personally see a parallel between these two. Jamie's "I'm just the man behind the music," was eerily similar to E.J.'s "It takes a whole village," in "Typecasting." Because that's the thing, right? If E.J. didn't have people in his life like Ashlyn, and now Gina, keeping him in check, he might have gone full throttle with continuing to cheat and scheme and charm his way into his handsome, rich white male privileged success.

So for Jamie to call him "charming" out of the gate... that hits a sore spot. He knows he's charming. He's been called charming all of his life. He's not insecure about how people view the persona he gives off. He's insecure about what people think of him past the smoke and mirrors.

And in Gina's mother's defense, of course E.J. walks on air to this woman. He bought her daughter a plane ticket. His cousin took Gina in. He picked Gina up from the airport. All of these things could very well be framed in a familial context, especially taking into account what Gina has chosen to share with her mother.

Jamie is solely trying to assuage his own big brother guilt here. He's not even tracking how E.J.'s reacting. What he's saying has nothing to do with E.J. and everything to do with letting himself off the hook for not being a part of Gina's life. He's not being mean-spirited, and he's not being protective. He's just incredibly self-involved. Unfortunately, E.J.'s too crushed and insecure to see that. The second that he catches wind of his feelings not being reciprocated, he quickly leaps to the wrong conclusion. Because who could ever learn to love the real him, right? Especially someone as brilliant and brave and gorgeous and real as Gina?

So while Gina is wrestling with putting down roots for the first time in her life and letting people in, E.J. is wrestling with accepting the fact that the people he cherishes most in his life love and support and adore the flawed person he is.

I think E.J. is such a well-written, well-acted character, and I'm thrilled that he's been given such focus this season. I'm so excited to see where his story goes from here.

#E.J. Caswell #Gina Porter #Jamie Porter #portwell #hsmtmts

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mountain-man-cumeth · 3 years

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What Went Wrong: An In-Depth Analysis of Muriel's Route

*Youtuber voice*

Below are the opinions of an uneducated individual on what could’ve left the majority of The Arcana audience dissatisfied. I will explore the plot, tropes, themes and morals of the Muriel route and try to explain what may have gone wrong. I will be treating the game as a novel since it's advertised as one.

1. Consistency. If you are unfamiliar with the chekhov's gun; it's a story writing principle that dictates each element you introduce should come into play (foreshadowing). Now let's start with a few story beats that were later abandoned or concluded in an underwhelming manner:

Muriel's blanket

Muriel's magic mark (on his back)

Forest spirit (spirits in general)

Lucio's upbringing

Circumstances of MC's death

Figurines/whittling/charms

Muriel's blanket is teased to be a tapestry, which would tie in with his later fascination with them later on, as it had been the only thing he had left from his past. MC neither sees nor comments on the blanket, we only know it exists thanks to other playthroughs and short stories.

Magic marks are an important point in the game. Every main route emphasises on how it affects the chosen LI. It's reveal is important in a way that it serves as a passage to a new act where the reader explores magic and Arcana pantheon as they are a monumental part of the overall worldbuilding. This exact point applies to the Heart of the Forest and how spirits interact with the world around them as well.

Whittling and Charm making are the only hobbies we get from Muriel's isolated life, their introduction helps the reader humanise the character by giving us a crumb of his everyday life. It's never mentioned again after the scene where MC asks him what he does. He doesn't idly whittle during their journey and charms only come to play in an offhanded reference during reversed ending.

The other two are also ignored but I will touch on Lucio later on.

Why do these matter? A few abandoned plot points don't make or break the story but on a grander level it hinders the audience investment. When we read, we like to think the details we notice will come to play eventually, we like recognizing references that were introduced earlier. I'm sure I don't need to give examples on this one, I don't think anyone will disagree.

2. Themes. Thematic influences this story utilized are all over the place, and it seems to me like it stems from the improper application of certain tropes;

The Hero's Journey

Home Sweet Home

Shell-Shocked Vet

Last of His Kind

etc.

Some of these tropes tackle themes such as;

Slavery

PTSD

Survivor's Guilt

Genocide

I'm not going to try to explain How to Write any of these topics. I'm not remotely qualified. I think it's better if I just give examples from popular media because whether you know how to write it or not, you can still understand when it's written well;

AtLA deals with genocide and survivor's guilt. It's in the name; The Last Airbender. Aang is the sole survivor of a culture he'd only had an opportunity to engage in for a handful of years. He left them with a childish tantrum and now they're gone forever. I can't think of another mainstream series that shows the gruesome reality of war and genocide better than this one.

When Muriel realizes his true heritage and loses Khamgalai is the point of the story where Luke sees his family's farm burned down, Aang goes back to the air temple, Treebeard walks in on the demolished part of the forest. (The inciting incident)

(Could also have been forest spirit’s death but it was too early in the story so I don’t consider it a missed opportunity.)

Up until this point the hero has their doubts, they're going through the motions but they are either underestimating the enemy or they're a passive protagonist. Either way, this is the point where the hero has to take the reins of the story. What purpose does this serve in Muriel's route instead? It simply validates Muriel's beliefs. He's useless, he isn't strong enough. We as the reader need a point to see where the hero takes a step to drive the story forward or whoever takes that step will steal the spotlight, it will be their story. As it is, this is the point where it ceases to be Muriel’s story.

PTSD got the worst end of the deal. Since Dragon Age fandom has a huge overlap with the Arcana I will use Fenris as an example; for those who are unfamiliar with the character, Fenris is an escaped slave. After the sex scene he vividly describes an experience that most people can easily identify as a flashback. The game never tells us that he was abused, it doesn’t show us him having a panic attack but it shows us that whatever transpired between him and the player character clearly triggered an unpleasant memory.

Arcana tries and initially succeeds to do something similar. We see that the character is untrustworthy, sensitive to touch, easily agitated, can’t sleep outside of his perceived safe environment… It introduces us the cause later on and the story has two options, each will drastically change the moral of the story:

Remember these as they will be important later on

Portray Muriel fighting as a bad thing; You can’t fight violence with violence angle or the fact that the villain’s forcing him into a situation where he’ll have to fight again makes the villain all the more intimidating.

Portray Muriel fighting as a good thing; He has the means to defeat the villain and he just needs encouragement. With great power comes great responsibility. By not fighting he willingly condemns everyone to an awful fate and that he is selfish.

I’d like to take a second to explore the 1. Option, I feel like the game may have intended to implement that idea but failed because of the implementation of Morga and choices presented for the player character: Morga is an Old-Soldier, these characters are often push the hero out of their comfort zone in an aggressive way towards complacency, they are a narrative foil to the mentor. For the first option to work the story had to show Khamgalai acting as a mentor and having the protagonists challenge Morga’s teachings(see Ozai-Iroh). As it is, Morga’s actions are never put under scrutiny (narratively) and her death feels hollow as a result. She didn’t sacrifice herself for the heroes due to her guilt, she died because she felt a moment of sympathy for her son which wasn’t explored before, she showed no intention to change nor any doubt.

It is clear the game choose 2. Option, it is a controversial choice given Muriel’s mental condition and the game is acutely aware of this, which is likely why Muriel’s PTSD will get carefully scraped from the story from here on out. (I won’t address other instances where his trauma wasn’t taken into account, I feel like this explanation should cover them as well.)

3. Morals. Every story, whether the author intends it or not, has a moral. The Villain most often acts against that moral and in turn can change the hero's perspective. Morals are not ideals; the morality of Killmonger isn’t that marginalised people should fight for their rights, it is that vengeance is just. Whether it’s right or wrong can be debated but what makes an ideal the moral of the story is in the portrayal. How the narrator depicts the events, how people around the heroes react... all are a part of portrayal.

The story choosing “Muriel fighting is a good thing” earlier puts in the foundation of a moral. The story tells us Muriel has to fight, it’s the right thing to do. He has to be brave for the people he loves.

This choice affects how his past actions will be perceived; now, him escaping the arena to save himself is cowardly, abandoning Morga is cowardly.

The story tells us it wasn’t, but shows us that it was. This is the end of the midpoint of the story, at this point we need to have a good grasp on what we should perceive as wrong or right for us to feel invested. If we zig-zag between the morals we won’t know which actions we should root for. But more than that, the conclusion will not feel cathartic as it will inevitably demonstrate the opposing ideals clashing at its climax.

Villain doesn't necessarily have to be sympathetic and Muriel's route makes no effort to make him as such, but they need to be understandable. What danger does Lucio pose to the status quo, what makes him a compelling villain? Whether he conquers Vesuvia or not doesn’t drastically affect Muriel’s way of life, he’s been in hiding for years. He doesn’t threaten to steal MC’s body, Muriel is not compelled to pick up arms to save his beloved. He wants to protect the people from going through what he’s been through, right? That is what the story wants us to think. But what has he been through? Fighting was his choice, Lucio tricked him into it. Lucio later tricked Morga, his own mother, to save his own hide. This tells us that Lucio is a manipulator, but he doesn’t manipulate his way into Vesuvia, he barges in with deus ex machina monsters. He doesn’t demonstrate his skills as a tactician by making deals with neighbouring kingdoms to get their armies. We don’t know his strengths therefore we don’t know his weaknesses. If he seems to be losing he can just conjure a giant dragon to burn everything down, we just can’t know. That is why the application of deus ex machina is highly taboo, the victories don’t feel earned and defeats feel unfair.

4. Tone. Playing with the genre is not uncommon and a game such as Arcana has many opportunities to do so. It is a romance story, everything else is the back-drop. The tone works best when its overall consistent but tonal changes act as shock for the audience to keep them engaged and keeping one tone indefinitely gets us desensitized. We can’t feel constant misery if we are not made to feel tinges of hope in between. Good examples of dramatic tonal change (that I can think of): Mulan - arriving at the decimated village, La Vita e Bella - the father’s death, M*A*S*H - death of Hawkeye’s friend. Two of these examples are mostly comedy which is why this tonal shift affects us so, it was all fun and games until we are slapped in the face with the war going on. There are no one liners in those scenes, the story takes a moment to show appropriate respect to the dead, it gives its characters time to digest and come to terms with loss. Bad examples are the majority of Marvel movies.

In Muriel’s route there’s never such a thing, Muriel has a panic attack and MC kisses him. This unintentionally tells us, the genre being romance, that the panic attack only served to further MC’s advances. It tells us that he’s never had the control of his life and it’s yet again stripped from him by the decisions of player character. This is not the only instance this happens. The story shoe-horns in multiple cuddle sessions between important plot beats. And it does the exact opposite during a moment where he is having a heart-to-heart with the person he loves by having the ghost of Morga appear to give an ominous warning/advice.

When he runs off during masquerade it’s built up to be an important plot point. Muriel will finally face his past, he’s been running away from it all along, and he will have an opportunity to be accepted back in. MC is supportive but ultimately, it’s meant to be Muriel's moment. But as I mentioned above this is not his story anymore so he’s not given any time to address his problems, instead a ghost appears to tell him what he needs to do, again. Because we need to wrap the story up, we don’t have time.

Remember how I said the 2 Options will be important later on, well here we are at the very end. Upright and reversed.

“Portray Muriel fighting as a bad thing”

This suggests that the triumph of Muriel won’t be through violence. Maybe he will outsmart Lucio in a different way, he won’t play his games anymore. This option suggests that Lucio will not be beaten by his own terms.

“Portray Muriel fighting as a good thing”

This option concludes with Muriel finally overcoming his reservations on violence and doing what's right to save the people he loves. And bringing justice to people who Lucio hurt.

If you are wondering why the upright ending feels random, this is likely why. The ending plays out as if the story was building on the 1st option while we spent chapters upon chapters playing out the 2nd one. It is unearned.

(The reversed ending, being reversed, also uses Option 1 path but in which Muriel can’t achieve his narrative conclusion)

The Coliseum is filled with people who are on their side against Lucio’s shadow goons. Because we can’t have people being on Lucio’s side without addressing the duality of human nature, even though it’s an important part of Muriel’s story. The people who watched and enjoyed Lucio’s bloodsport are no more, they are all new and enlightened offscreen. We completely skipped the part where Vesuvia comes to terms with its own complacency and Muriel simply feels at ease because the crowd is cheering on him now. This is what happens when you give the character a chance to challenge those who have been complicit in his abuse (masquerade scene) and completely skip it to move the story along.

Muriel doesn't get justice, ever. The people only love him now because he's fighting for them instead of his own survival. Morga or her clan doesn't answer for the massacre of Kokhuri, Vesuvia doesn't answer for the sick entertainment they indulged in and Lucio doesn't answer for Muriel's enslavement. It is not even acknowledged, nowhere in the story (except the very end of reversed ending, and even then it almost gets him killed so its clearly the wrong thing to do on his part) is a choice presented where Muriel has an opportunity to get any sort of compensation where he instead chooses to move on.

I don’t intend to straw man anyone but this is a sentiment I’ve seen a lot; “It’s a short story, a dating-sim, what do you expect?”

I expect nothing, I’m simply explaining why some people feel how they feel. It is a short dating-sim but it seems to me like it was aiming to be something more by borrowing elements that were clearly far above their weight range to tease something more and under deliver. It is okay to feel content with the story, and it’s okay to feel let down. If we had a unanimous decision on literature we would never be inclined to write our own stories.

#personal #muriel #muriel spoilers #tw: PTSD #tw: trauma #tw: slavery #tw: genocide #karayan

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wishesunderthestars · 4 years

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Eunoia // Ch. 11

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, injuries and blood

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A/N: The taglist for Eunoia is now closed.

“Zayn, I promise I’m right around the corner,” you said into the phone. “I went home for lunch and it took a little more time than I had expected.”

You heard the singer laugh on the other end of the line. “It’s alright, you are always on time. I can excuse this one. You aren’t even that late.” You checked your phone to confirm what he was saying. Six minutes late. Not that bad.

“I could be a little earlier. I parked the car at the usual parking spot so I’m really just around the corner.” You looked back at Jimin. He had stopped walking and was looking behind him. Some shop window had probably caught his attention. There were many charming independent shops in the area. “By the way Jimin is with me, he wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“I don’t,” Zayn said. “I would like to see the lad again. You talk so much about him, about all of them really, it would be nice to actually see him instead of hearing about him.”

“I mean…” You paused. “C’mon, I don’t talk about them that much.”

Zayn huffed. “Keep telling yourself that. But I’ll let you have this one. Other than them and work, do you even have any other news?”

“I totally have other news.” Zayn waited. It was slightly worrying that you came up empty. “I’m drowning in work, okay? What other news would I have? Ehhh, have you met Astrid?”

In the short silence that followed, you could hear Zayn rolling his eyes. “Taylor’s hybrid is hardly news, she adopted her a month ago. You were literally together in Nashville. And did you forget I told you that last time I met up with Taylor Astrid was with her? Do you listen that well to what I’m saying?”

“Oh, right. I had wanted to come too, but you know work-” You were cut off by the sound of quick footsteps on the gravel behind you. Not many people wandered these streets. You turned back in time to see Jimin running in the opposite direction down the street. “Jimin!” You shouted. He didn’t stop. He should have heard you. With his hybrid hearing, he should have heard you. “I have to go. We’ll be more late.” You ended the call and took off.

You thanked whatever deities could hear you for deciding to wear sneakers instead of high heels to work. When you had important meetings with the higher ups of the film studios, you would dress nicer and high heels were etiquette at this point. Lucky for you, this day you didn’t have any meetings of that kind but rather a more active role as the director. High heels would only slow you down.

Chasing Jimin down the streets, you were glad nothing was slowing you down. You called his name again and again but he wouldn’t reply, just kept running. Your mind jumped to the worst things that could have happened. No one was chasing him, other than you. He wasn’t running away from someone, unless… Unless he was running away from you. But no. Jimin wouldn’t do that. He had no reason to run away from you. He had been a little strange before and something was certainly off but he wouldn’t run away.

You didn’t let yourself entertain the thought anymore, just put one foot in front of the other as fast as you could. Your heart was racing but it wasn’t solely because of running.

Around a corner, in a small alleyway nestled between a small art shop and a closed down building, Jimin had stopped. You stopped too. A large graffiti in blue spray paint read “The world isn’t fair, why should we be?”.

“Jimin?” you repeated quietly, it felt wrong shouting here.

Jimin was frozen in the middle of the alley, his eyes wide. His hands were fisted at his sides, they were shaking. Someone was standing against the wall.

Jimin went to take a step forward but a hiss stopped him. “Yoongi?”

“Step back,” the man said. Black cat-like ears were turned back, their fur blending into his pitch black hair. Narrowed dark eyes regarded Jimin. Jimin didn’t back down.

“Yoongi, it’s me,” Jimin said, albeit with a little less confidence. His eyes were open and vulnerable, staring at the other hybrid like he was a dream he was too afraid to wake up from, yet he wasn’t sure if he should call it a nightmare. “It’s Jimin, don’t you remember me?”

Yoongi didn’t reply. His shoulders were drawn high in tension, making more obvious the teared up fabric on his shoulder. It wasn’t the only tear on his clothes, his jeans were ripped in a way that didn’t look intentional and the hem of his shirt was torn and scuffed. One of his hands was tightly clutching a baseball cap. “Stay away from me.”

There was so much pain in Jimin’s eyes. All you wanted to do was gather him in your arms and hold him until it was gone, but something was holding you back.

“I looked for you. In the shelter and in the streets. I tried to find you for years.” Jimin’s lip trembled. “Where have you been?”

Yoongi looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

“Please,” Jimin whispered and you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. “I-I’m so sorry.”

That made Yoongi’s head shoot up. “You’re sorry? What-”

Just then, your phone started ringing. Both hybrids looked at you. Alarmed, Yoongi backed further into the alley. Perfect timing. You thought Zayn must be calling you, asking you what had happened and where you had gone, but it was Namjoon. Wary of the deadly glare Yoongi was sending your way, you declined the call.

“Who are you?” Yoongi hissed. The fur on his tail was standing on end and you could imagine him pouncing on you and tearing you apart with his teeth. You hadn’t been as nervous around a hybrid as you were at the moment. With Namjoon, it was more wariness than anything else. But this time a thread of fear was slithering up your arms. There was dried blood on Yoongi’s knuckles. There was no John this time and you didn’t have only yourself to worry about.

"She's my owner," Jimin replied for you. It wasn't the way you would have phrased it and Yoongi's eyes narrowed further until they were nothing more than twin slits. "Yoongi, please," he said again. You didn't know what he was pleading for.

"She's your owner?" Yoongi spat out the word like it was the worst of insults.

You had a very bad feeling about this.

Jimin clenched his jaw, standing up straighter. "She isn't like him, she's nothing like him. She saved me."

Yoongi didn't say anything. His back was one with the wall by now.

Jimin averted his gaze, shoulders slumping. "I-I missed you. I thought... I thought he had done something to you." He hugged his frame, making himself look smaller. "I thought he hurt you," the last words came out as a whimper.

Yoongi was quick to shake his head. "He didn't, he didn't hurt me. You shouldn't have worried about me. You shouldn't be thinking about me."

"But I was! I still am!"

Yoongi looked away, he didn't move from the wall. It was clear the two hybrids knew each other but there were too many things you couldn't make sense of. Yoongi must have been someone important to Jimin if he had chased him all the way here and by what they were saying he had something to do with Jimin's past owner. You had assumed Jimin had been alone with that vile man, you hadn't considered having someone there with him. Someone he seemed to care for. Maybe he had met him at one of those parties Jimin had mentioned his owner liked to take him to, or he was one of his friends' hybrid.

Your brain was in overdrive but your body was rooted on the spot. You didn't want to intrude but you were worried. Meanwhile, you only had limited time before you had to get back to work...

Stupid brain, you cursed. This was such an important moment for Jimin and here you were thinking about work.

“I have to go," Yoongi said, pulling himself away from the wall.

"No!" Jimin protested loudly, moving as if he was going to reach for the other hybrid. "I have been looking for you for years. Don't go. Please." He had been saying please a lot today.

Although Jimin didn't touch him, the other hybrid stopped, as if he was unable to leave Jimin behind when he was calling for him. His fists were clenched at his sides and you could see the dried up blood on his knuckles better. It looked like he had left the blood clog up for a day or more instead of cleaning it. It would be easy to get an infection, especially with the dirt and grime all over his clothes and skin.

"Is she treating you right?" Yoongi asked after a few moments of silence.

Jimin's eyes widened at the question, brimming with tears. You held your breath. "She's my family." He glanced at you. "She taught me how to cook. She takes care of us and she lets us dress any way we like. She lets us go out alone, too, I haven't yet but I could... We went to the lake and we stayed there all day and had a picnic and... and... I'm- I'm happy. I'm happy, Yoongi."

Yoongi lowered his head. "You deserve to be happy," he said quietly but even your human hearing picked it up. He took a step forward.

"Wait." You were surprised to hear your own voice. "You should disinfect your cuts, you could get sick if you leave them like this." Not your best, but enough to make his stop and look at you. Jimin gave you a hopeful look. "I have a medical kit in my car, I can clean them and if you want, then you can leave."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly. His hands were shaking. "You know how to give first aid?"

You nodded. "I have taken a few lessons, I know my way around it."

"She's really good," Jimin confirmed. Neither of you could forget the night you had met. Purplish bruises, stark white gauze and fearful eyes.

Yoongi's cat-like ears twitched. It didn't give you any specific answers as to the kind of hybrid he was. His tail was black as well, it stayed low as he contemplated your offer.

"I don't need your help, I'm fine, " Yoongi said. His eyes flickered to the other end of the alleyway. You could sense the internal battle going on inside him, vices gripping his body as he vibrated with something you were hesitant to call nervousness. His eyes locked with Jimin for a moment and his shoulder slumped slightly. "I don't need your help… but there is someone who does. Can you help him?"

You ignored the suspicious glare and gathered all your confidence. "I can do my best."

A small nod. "Go get your supplies."

He stayed glued to the spot so you turned to Jimin. You cupped his cheek gently and said, "I'm going to the car, I'll be back in a moment." The cat hybrid nodded and you speed-walked to the parking lot, thankfully it wasn't too far away. You would have run if you hadn't already been tired from chasing Jimin. You grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk before rushing back. It was a medium sized box, containing all the essentials, from gauze, band-aids and disinfectant to various pills, like Advil and Claritin. "I've got it," you said when you arrived back at the alleyway, finding the two of them in the same spots you had left them.

Yoongi glanced at you and the white medical kit, and then he was walking away. You took that as a sign to follow him. You slipped your hand in Jimin's, who gave you a small smile, and intertwined your fingers. This neighborhood housed one of your favorite coffee shops, the one you had planned to meet Zayn at, but you hadn’t wandered far from the quiet aesthetic streets with the colorful buildings and the tiny squares.

As you walked further away, the scenery changed. More graffiti appeared on the walls. Words dripping in red and black. Slurs and protests. You kept Jimin close to your side. After ten minutes of walking, Yoongi stopped in front of a two-story building. The door was hanging off from only one of its hinges, as if holding onto a thread. Shattered windows, peeling paint on the walls and pieces of white plastic sheets angling from seemingly random places didn’t leave any room for doubt whether the building was abandoned.

Yoongi slipped in through the half opened door and disappeared in the partial darkness inside. Two balconies were situated above the door on either side, parts of them chipped off. You were worried they would fall on your heads at any any moment. You tugged Jimin forward and twisted your body to get inside without touching the door or the wall. Jimin did the same and you were faced with an empty room. You couldn't see much, sunlight didn't get in the house properly and the plastic sheets prevented most of the rays from passing through.

The smell of rot drifted in the air and you could almost feel the dust swirling around. You resisted an instinctual cough. It was mostly in your mind, the feeling that dust was suffocating you, but your mind tricked your body quickly. You ignored it and walked further into the house, leaving footprints behind on the granite floor. The light got dimmer the further you went and your eyes had trouble adjusting. Jimin's eyesight was much better than yours and like cats he could see well in darkness.

One of the rooms, with the dirtied floral tapestry peeling off from the walls, opened up to a grand staircase. Once upon a time it must have been beautiful, polished wood shining under the light of the chandeliers. You could imagine balls taking place here, women wearing beautiful gowns and men in tuxes made by the biggest names in fashion, mingling and sharing drinks. Now, the room was a ghost of its former glory, a place that belonged in a horror film instead of a period drama.

Jimin's hand slipped from yours and you reached blindly for him. The room wasn't in total darkness but it was dark enough to make you nervous.

In all of your observation of the staircase you hadn't noticed that there was something in the space under the stairs. A boy was curled up on a ratty blanket so thin, it must have been doing nothing to shield him from the cold granite underneath. Yoongi was kneeling next to him but you couldn't make out his features or if he was talking or not. You were too far to hear anything and the building was by no means quiet (you had a suspicion that a family of mice or cockroaches had made its home somewhere inside and you prayed you were wrong). You approached cautiously.

"-alone. Please, don't go again. I'm fine," you could hear the boy saying as you got closer. His voice was croaky, from disuse or pain you weren't sure. He must have been the one Yoongi wanted you to help. You couldn't see him clearly but you could make out the ears peeking out from his hair. Another hybrid.

Yoongi was holding his hand. "You aren't fine, I had to do something. I brought help."

The boy hadn't noticed you so far, he must have been pretty bad if he didn't hear you coming in and didn’t notice your scent. When his eyes landed on you he only curled up tighter with a whimper.

"We're here to help you, not hurt you," you said, coming a little closer when Yoongi didn't hiss at you. You showed him the medical kit you were holding. "I only want to help if you let me."

He didn't uncurl from the ball he had created with his body but Yoongi looked at you expectantly. You knelt on the floor next to the blanket, ridiculously aware of the dust and grime your expensive pants must be gathering. Your mind was jumping from one place to the next so it wasn't surprising that for some reason it decided it was worth it to worry about dirtying your pants. With Yoongi's help, you coaxed him out of the ball so you could start treating him. After turning on the flashlight on your phone, you handed it to Jimin, instructing him to keep it steady while you worked.

The boy clenched his eyes shut at the light, you wondered how long he had stayed here in semi-darkness.

You opened the first aid kit and took stock of the supplies inside, everything was there. You didn't know the extent of his injuries but his labored breathing and sharp flinches whenever he moved told you enough. In the artificial light, you took a better look at the boy laying on the floor. His hair was a reddish shade of orange. A fluffy tail was half-hidden behind his body. A fox hybrid. You had never seen once before.

The awe and curiosity didn’t last long. Your eyes were drawn on his swollen eye, a shocking purple painting his skin. It wasn't the only place tainted with color. His cheek had a purplish bruise as well and his lips were cut in two places. A trail of blood had dried underneath his nose.

"I'll start with your face, okay?" you asked, but the hybrid didn't reply, he just tightened his hold on the blanket. Taking off his clothes, to tend to the rest of the injuries you were sure were hiding underneath, would only make him more uncomfortable. You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, you were always carrying one with you, and poured a small amount on a white cloth. Before the cloth could touch his face, you spoke up, "My name is Y/N. Do you want to tell me your name?"

Wide fearful eyes turned to Yoongi, who gestured vaguely with his hand. "H-Hoseok," the boy whispered.

"Hoseok," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. "That's a nice name. I like the way it sounds." Gently, you dabbed the cloth on his bottom lip, the boy flinched at the contact. He didn't pull away so you continued. "I'm not a professional, I'm not a doctor or a nurse or anything. My profession is actually very different from that, though I did have to play nurse a few times. I would like to think I'm quite good at this by now. I've taken a few lessons, I was fascinated with first aid when I was younger. I don't even know why."

You continued speaking while tending to the wounds on his face. Earlier in your life you had discovered that talking, or at least listening to someone speak, would take the other's mind off the pain a little. By the time you were finished with his face, you had told him the whole story of how you had come to learn first aid and how you had panicked and forgotten everything you had learnt the first time someone had fainted in front of you, only remembering what to do when a friend of yours had pinched you. Hoseok listened to everything you said silently, his lips curling up a tiny bit at the last story. Maybe you exaggerated a bit and you made way too many hand gestures for someone supposed to be tending to his wounds but it seemed to be working.

Yoongi helped him pull off his shirt and you heard a gasp from behind you as his torso was revealed. His body was toned but a few of his ribs were pushing out in ways they probably shouldn't. It wasn't too bad but it was clear he hadn't been eating well for some time. But that wasn't the worst and it wasn't what you noticed first. Large bruises littered his body and what looked like the imprint of a hand was left on his bicep.

Switching topics, you told him about your first time coming to Los Angeles. Hoseok let out a breath as you started speaking again. As you checked his ribs, you recalled your very first days in the city, when you had been as excited as afraid to go to University in a brand new city where you had no friends. He hissed at the contact, but didn't object otherwise. You observed the way he breathed, taking note of the heavy bruising over his ribcage. You applied salve over the area and all the other bruises on his torso and the few on his back, the front had taken the blunt of whatever had happened. You had a suspicion but didn't speak of it yet.

His right arm was broken, he was holding it immobile close to his body. One touch and you were certain of it. Disinfecting a rather large cut on his arm, you wrapped it in gauze after coating the injury in a thin layer of cream. The cream smelled awful and was a sickly green color but you could testify to how effective it was. You did your best to make a cast for the arm, you hadn't done it before outside of a class and it was more of a struggle than you had expected. When his arm was secured in the cast, you trailed off your recounting of a stupid fight you had with one of your cousins that resulted in both of you getting lost. You were done. Hoseok looked at you with wide eyes, as if asking you why you stopped.

"This is it, we're all done," you said, rubbing your hands together with hand sanitizer like you had before treating him. "When did he... get injured?"

"Why do you need to know?" Yoongi asked, at the same time as Hoseok croaked out, "Yesterday."

"What pill I give him to relieve the pain depends on when he got hurt. Some kinds could slow down the healing process if they are taken less than 48 hours after the injury." Digging into the small suitcase-like kit, you handed him two paracetamol tablets along with the water bottle. There was still had some water inside. "It will numb the pain, it takes about an hour to work," you explained.

Hoseok tentatively took the pills and bottle from you. He drunk the water in one gulp and you were reminded again that he might have gone without water for some time. "Thank you," he said, his eyes on the blanket.

You sighed, getting up from the floor and dusting off your pants. Just like you had expected, two white patches were left on your knees. "I'm afraid, other than a broken arm, you might have fractured one of your ribs. I noticed the area hurts more than the rest and you have some trouble breathing." Jimin who hadn't moved much while you were working, latched himself on your back. The situation was too familiar for him. The injuries, the smell of the disinfectant and the fear in Hoseok's eyes. And just like that night your heart was clenching, begging you to do more. It worked once, why wouldn't it again? The traitorous organ whispered.

Yoongi had sat on the blanket next to Hoseok, who had crawled closer to him, his side touching leg. The silence is broken as your phone starts ringing again. You had set it on silent so whoever is calling you must have made many attempts. You are expecting to see Namjoon's name flash on the screen with the wolf and moon emojis, but instead it is the name of one of the producers.

While tending to Hoseok, you had almost forgotten you had to be at work after the supposedly short trip to the coffee shop. You had to take this. At the other side of the staircase, close to a door that led to what must have been a dining room once, you answered the call.

Everyone had been looking for you, worried about your absence. You had never been late to work before, often you would show up before you were scheduled to, in order to get some additional work done. Three missed call, that's how many times just the producer had called you. His worry soon turned into irritation, asking you why you didn't inform them and why you weren't answering your phone. They had called everyone close to you to find out what had happened and no one had any answers.

You were more than an hour late. An hour you were supposed to spend guiding the actors and getting the first feeling of a few scenes. Those plans went down the drain.

You peeked over the railing of the staircase. Jimin was standing closer to the space Hoseok was laying under the stairs. They were talking but they were being quiet and you couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud voice of the producer coming from the phone and your own too loud thoughts. You tried to explain yourself, staying as close to the truth as possible, which was admittedly difficult. In the end, you used the personal emergency card. Although the producer didn't sound convinced, he let you off, scolding you half-heartedly about calling next time instead of leaving them in the dark looking for you and thinking about the worst.

Ending the call, you looked through all the ones you missed and the texts they had sent you. You replied to a few of the texts, giving the same answer as you had to the producer. There were several from Zayn, asking where you were and if you were okay. In the final one he asked you to call him as soon as you could. Guilt gnawed at your insides. You had left him alone waiting for you for forty minutes, until he was sure there was no chance of you coming. You were an awful friend. Namjoon had also sent you a few messages. Someone had called the land-line at your house. No word from you. You and Jimin had both disappeared. Cradling your heavy heart, you sent a message to Namjoon assuring him that Jimin was with you and you were both alright. You hoped that would be enough for now.

Pocketing your phone you walked around the stairs. Closer to them you could pick up parts of their conversation. Yoongi and Jimin were arguing, silent tears streaming down Jimin's face. You held yourself back from running to him and pulling him away from whatever was hurting him. This was Jimin's battle, you would let him fight it. He rarely spoke of the demons of his past but they were many and frightening with long claws and sharp teeth.

Jimin suddenly reached for your hands. "Tell them, tell them to come home with us. Please, they can't stay here. We have a lot of space in the house, they can take one of the rooms until he heals."

Your mouth was faster than your brain. That was a problem you didn't have to worry about before but something was changing. "They can come home with us if they want." Yoongi hissed, ready to protest. "A fractured rib isn't a trivial matter, he would need medical supervision but I can guess you don't want to go to a hospital. I can tend to it until he gets better, he will need medication to relieve the pain and plenty of bed rest. This place will only slow his healing."

"Yoongi, please. Let me..." He stopped with a sniffle. "Just come with us. I need you to come with us." That seemed to break any of the resolve the older hybrid had. Hoseok didn't react at all, remaining curled in on himself.

"Okay, we'll come," Yoongi said. "We'll come, but we'll leave as soon as he's better.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It should be way more surprising when you show up at the Castle with Jimin and two unfamiliar hybrids in tow. The initial surprise lasted only a few minutes before everyone just sort of accepts this. Namjoon was the most wary but you couldn't blame him, his instincts were screaming to protect his pack and while Hoseok in his condition was by no means a threat, Yoongi didn't exactly look friendly. Jungkook had hopped away soon after with Jin. The bunny hybrid wasn’t good with strangers. You suspected that he had inherited some bunny instincts that made him jumpy and easily afraid around predators.

You led the two new hybrids to the guest room with the two queen beds on the second floor, and like you had with Jin, you gave them the key. Yoongi looked at you suspiciously but didn't say anything. Hoseok fell asleep as soon as his body hit the soft mattress. Their reaction to the house had been similar to most people’s. Wide eyes and disbelief. It didn’t serve to calm Yoongi down, instead he looked like you had been leading him straight into some sort of trap.

Jimin stuck close to you as you called John from your office. He was one of the first people your team had called, it just happened that the day they needed him was the day he hadn't accompanied you. He was fuming when he answered, worried out of his mind and, unlike the producer, he didn't let you off easily. You had been rash, forgot about any rational thoughts, put yourself and Jimin in danger, didn't call anyone for backup in case something happened. Those hybrids could have been serial killers for all you knew. The list went on and on.

"I'm coming over as soon as I can," he said. "I have to see those hybrids for myself. You can't just go around picking up hybrids like they are new projects. What mess have you gotten yourself in this time?"

"Hopefully, not too big of one," you muttered. "You don't have to come, really. I've got everything under control and it's your week off. I took the rest of the day off so I'll be home. I swear I'll call you if anything happens."

"There is no way I'm leaving you in the house with two hybrids you just picked up from the street and decided to nurse back to health-"

"One of them is fine," you interrupted him.

Yoongi didn't have any visible injuries other than his bloody knuckles and a slit lip he wouldn't let you touch. Even if he had more, there was no way he would let you tend to them.

"And that makes it better how?" John asked. "I mean, good for him he isn't injured, but that doesn't guarantee your safety. If he is fine, he could try something. Don't forget that hybrid's have human DNA too, there are bad apples regardless of how much you want to keep looking at the good ones. Just because it worked once, doesn't mean it will work again. "

Jimin was sitting on the edge of your desk, his head tilted to the side. He could hear everything with his hearing. You ruffled his blond hair and he leaned into your touch. "It isn't the same," you said.

"Isn't it? It sounds awfully a lot like something I've heard before." John sighed. "It isn't that I don't trust your judgment, but lately you act then ask questions lately. I trust you but I don't trust everyone you take into your house. They could take all of your jewelry before they disappear or it could be much much worse."

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely defenseless." The first years John was assigned to you, he had decided to teach you the basics of self-defense. He couldn't always be with you and you hadn't been able to throw a punch to save your life. The lessons had paid off and, although you were no black belt student, you could defend yourself to an extent if you had to. "I'm serious, you don't have to come over. What about Alice? She wouldn't want her father running off when he promised her he would spend the week with her."

John huffed. "You are evil, using my daughter against me."

"I will add it to my resume," you said. "I'm alright and I'm going to be alright. You know I'm not alone, if anything happens we can count on each other, and you can come in a few days when your break is over and check in."

"I'll accept this only because I have heard Namjoon growl when he thinks someone in his pack is threatened," you felt warmth seep in your cheeks when John mentioned so casually that you were part of their pack, "and Jungkook has gained enough muscle in the last few months to launch a nice punch if he needs to protect himself or someone." It was difficult to imagine your sweet bunny hybrid punching anyone, especially given the way you had found him, but it was true that the time he spent in the gym paid off.

John didn't come over. He stayed with his daughter because he had promised they would go to the zoo together as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. You went through a few papers after the phone call, reassuring yourself multiple times that the whole TV show wouldn’t crumble because you had taken one day off work (you really needed to work on your sense of self-importance). Jimin had turned his body on the desk so he could see what you were doing without taking up too much space.

They would be fine without you. The conclusion wasn't hard to reach but you had tortured yourself a lot over it. Missing days of work was almost unheard for you. You scheduled your life around your work schedule, the breaks were on specific dates and you didn't need to take extra ones. To miss work, you had to be so sick you couldn't get out of bed without fainting.

You put the papers in their respective folders and placed them back on the bookshelves. "Now that we are alone, do you think you can tell me what happened?" you asked, feeling Jimin's eyes on your back.

"I-" He averted his gaze, his fingers wrapping and unwrapping on the hem of his shirt, wrinkles forming on the material and smoothing out again. "I'm sorry."

You walked around the desk, coming closer to him. "That's not what I wanted to hear. A warning before taking off would have been nice, though. My mind went to the worst possibility and you wouldn't answer my calls or wait for me."

Jimin was about to apologize but stopped himself. "I couldn't lose him. I couldn't stop running, I couldn't lose him again. I couldn't really hear you... It was like a fog was over everything other than the path I was following. I needed to make sure it was Yoongi, that he was alright."

You touched Jimin's thighs, situating him better on the desk so you were standing between his legs. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He hesitated before reaching for your hand and holding it in his. He brought it close to his face and started nuzzling on your wrist. He had told you your scent calmed him and he liked it when your scents mingled. Placing a kiss on the center of your wrist, he pulled back a little, keeping your hand in his.

"He was there, in my old house," he said. "I was around sixteen when he was brought in. My owner didn't say why he was there but Yoongi is a panther hybrid, he could brag about him to his friend and he was also a guard. He was supposed to be protecting the house, to be protecting me. I was all alone there and then I wasn't. He was suddenly there and I wanted a friend so bad. Yoongi was gentle and he was kind, he would stay with me when I was feeling lonely. He cooked for me when he could, the food was delicious. I remember loving it but I'm not sure it was because of the food itself or because he was the one who had cooked it. Maybe both." He lowered his head, his cat ears pinned to his head. "We did something. We did something very bad. He took Yoongi away and I was returned to the adoption center. I never learnt what he did to him. I thought..." His voice cracked.

You shushed him, stepping even closer and taking his into your arms. He wrapped his arms around your neck pulling you against his chest. "He's alright. You're safe here. This is a safe place."

"I know," he mumbled into your shoulder. "I know."

You cupped his neck with one hand, rubbing small circles with your thumb on his neck. "Do you trust him? Do you trust him to stay here until Hoseok recovers?"

He nodded. "I trust him, I would trust him with my life."

You held him in silence for some time, just feeling him breath against your chest. "What did you do with Yoongi?" you asked, curious. Jimin stiffened, you felt like he was holding his breath. "You don't have to tell me."

His body relaxed a little, leaning on you. "I can't, we shouldn't have done it. We betrayed him. I couldn't hold myself back, I was weak. I'm stronger now, I promise. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if your hated me."

What he said made you jolt back. Jimin whined lowly but you were quick to cup his soft cheek. "I could never hate you. Nothing in this world could make me hate you," you said, gazing into his watery eyes. Even with tears threatening to fall, he looked beautiful. "My Jiminie. Nothing you say will ever change my feelings about you. Your past doesn't define you. Whatever you did to that man, he deserved it."

"But you don't."

You didn't understand what he meant. "What?" You looked into his eyes but you only found sadness there. The small smile on his lips hurt more than his tears would.

He sniffled. "Don't leave me. Don't throw me away," he pleaded.

You squeezed his thigh, leaning your forehead against his. "Never, I'll never leave you. I will always watch over you, I swear."

“I’m not worth it. I’m not worthy of the care you give me,” he whimpered.

“You are. You are worth everything and so much more.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Namjoon was sitting on the largest couch in the living room, a documentary about ocean life playing on TV. His ears twitched a little when he heard you climbing up the stairs. You stayed standing for a moment, watching the screen as a blue whale emerged from the water shooting up a water water spray like a fountain. Their tails flapped against the water. Such magnificent creatures. They were endangered species, the man speaking explained, hunted and killed for their meat and blubber. On top of that, pollution, vessel strikes, entanglement in traps and nets and more.

If there was one thing humans knew how to do is destroy beautiful things.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked.

You shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? Or some variation of it?” You turned away from the screen and settled on the couch, leaving some distance between you. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you before springing this on you.”

“I can handle it, I think,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think Jimin left you much of a choice if he ran after him. If his mind is set on something, he won’t stop until he gets it.”

“Do you know anything about him? Yoongi? Jimin told me some things but he doesn’t want to say everything.”

Namjoon shook his head. “I didn’t even know he existed until now. Jimin never mentioned it. He doesn’t like talking about his past. I can understand, but then things like this happen. I just wish he shared more with us, so we could help him.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I feel the same. But it’s only temporary. In about a week Hoseok will be well enough to go. Not completely healed, that could take up to a month or more, but he will be better.”

He cracked a small smile. “You can’t really stand there doing nothing, can you?”

You couldn’t, could you? You had always been one to try to help in any way you could. It didn’t matter what the problem was, you wanted to help. An issue at work, a dilemma one of your friends was facing, human rights, poverty, hunger. Homeless injured hybrids. But you usually were careful, you would think the problem over, review all the points and then try to find a solution.

Since when did you throw caution to the wind?

You liked to pride yourself on your mind. You could see the things other people couldn’t and laid new paths when others hadn’t bothered to stray a foot from the blocked road. It felt like you were slipping.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you said, hiding your face in your hands. “Jimin was so sad and Hoseok’s ribs are fractured-”

Namjoon cut you off by tugging at your arm. He pulled you closer to him. “I trust you, you know I trust you.”

“That doesn’t always make things better,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder. “What if I’m wrong? What if you trusted me and I’m wrong? And, I don’t know, something really bad happens.”

“Then we’ll face the consequences together.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll tell you if I think you’re wrong and we will work it out. Now, I’m not sure. We don’t know what happened or why one of them has fractured ribs and a broken arm. I saw the blood on Yoongi’s hands. All we know is that he was part of Jimin’s past.”

The screen was darker as lion fish were swimming around the bottom of the sea, illuminated by blue light. They weren’t afraid of the diver, aware of the poison in their back spines, the narrator said.

You shuffled around a little, getting comfortable on Namjoon’s side. His arm snaked around your waist, settling on your hip. The words unsaid between the two of you were choking you.

“Jungkook came to me earlier,” he said. “He was crying. He told me he had done something horrible, something he couldn’t forgive himself for. It took me hours to calm him down. He said I needed to find Jimin and make sure he was okay. After what he had done, Jungkook said he wouldn’t want to see him again.”

You frowned. “Jungkook said that?” That sounded nothing like the sweet boy you knew. Sure, Jungkook liked joking around, teasing all of you and he could be very stubborn. But he looked at Jimin like he was his muse and whatever he created would be bland and pointless without him. “Jimin caught me last minute before I left the house. He didn’t look well, he was panicked. It was like he was trying to escape something. He didn’t tell me what happened and I didn’t want to push him and make things worse. Where is Jungkook?"

“At the atelier, Jin is there with him. I don't know what we'd do without him," Namjoon said. You agreed. Jin had slotted into your lives like he was always meant to be there. "What about Jimin? Wasn't he with you?"

"He came with me to my office, before I came upstairs he said he was tired and he left to go to your room."

The sun was setting outside, the sky turning navy as the colors of the day receded. You felt like only a few minutes ago you had been about to walk out the door to meet up with Zayn.

Namjoon's hand was rubbing your arm up and down, the touch calming something deep inside you. You had so many questions, so many doubts about what you were doing. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Jimin was in a fragile state. If what Jungkook had told Namjoon was true to some extent, Jimin would be in a really bad place. On top of that, a person from his past showing up could ruin all his progress. Most of all, you were afraid your Jimin would get hurt.

"You're thinking too loud again."

You groaned, burying your head in his shoulder. "I'm not." You turned to the TV trying to erase the look on your face. The deepest parts of the sea were home to so many creatures. Small and large, all of them had adapted to live in darkness. Adapting. Such an interesting skill.

You squirmed in Namjoon's arms, he loosened his hold on you so you could sit up straighter. You hadn't talked about the night when you had been beating yourself up for saying the wrong thing, Jin's retreating form, head lowered, haunting you. Namjoon had a way to make your brain go quiet, something you hadn't learnt how to do regardless of how much you tried. You had been floating and for once you had fallen asleep without tossing and turning.

But you hadn't talked and you couldn't decide if it was better that way or if it would only serve to torment you further. The doubts came, like they always did, and you weren't ready to deflect them.

Namjoon's clever eyes were on you as you traced invisible swirls from his shoulder, his neck and up his face. Your knuckles ran over his cheek in a feather-light touch. His hand covered yours, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

"Can I?" he asked, leaning closer. You could do nothing but nod. His lips touched yours gently at first, before both of you got lost in the feeling. This kind of kissing was reserved for books and movies, it wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life and yet... How could you settle for anything less after this?

This, this was something you could write about. Something to fill up all those blank pages taunting you. Paragraphs upon paragraphs attempting to describe that feeling spreading through your whole body. You could spend your whole life trying to put this moment into words and it would be worth it.

You pulled back. A flush had crept up on Namjoon's cheeks and his hair was mussed. You probably didn't look any better. Hopefully, your makeup could cover any redness on your skin.

Your hand was still in his, held against his cheek.

"What are we doing?" you asked him, breathy from the kiss that had overtaken your whole being. "What does this mean?"

"What do you want this to be?"

Your lips twitched up. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

Namjoon combed a hand through your hair, twisting a strand loosely around his fingers before letting go. "It can mean whatever we want it to mean. Whatever we need it to be."

On a moment, his back straightened and he looked at the stairs. You followed his gaze but saw nothing. A few seconds later, your human ears were able to pick up steps climbing up the staircase. You got up from the couch and straightened the wrinkles on your clothes. An itch to change into clean clothes nagged at you, preferably after taking a nice long shower, but there were still things needed to be done.

Black hair was the first thing you saw before the rest of Jin came into view, but you had already guessed who it was by the careful steps he was taking. Living with them, you could distinguish between the ways they climbed up the stairs. Jungkook ran up, eager to reach his destination. Jimin occasionally skipped some steps, light on his feet like he was floating his way up. Namjoon's step were light as well and he was the most likely to miss, stalking up the stairs silently as if on a hunt. Jin was careful and measured in everything he did and this was no different.

The sugar glider hybrid glanced around, his eyes landing on the two of you in the living room. He shifted his weight on his feet.

"Hey," you said softly, coming closer. "Is Jungkook still in the atelier ?"

Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, even though he tended to stick to the other hybrids like glue. Whatever had happened earlier was enough to make him change his habits.

"He's in the middle of a painting," Jin said, biting his bottom lip. It was obvious he was worried as well, but trying to make excuses for the youngest. "I'm going to cook dinner."

The sun had set by now but you couldn't comprehend how late it had gotten. Time to make dinner. On an average work day you would be wrapping up now and checking off the tasks you had completed, making sure everything was going according to plan before leaving.

"I'll help you then," you said, nudging his hands with yours. The two of you go to the kitchen and Jin starts pulling out bowls from the cupboards. "What are we making?"

Jin paused. "Now that you're here, we can make whatever you want. But I can cook. You should rest, you must be tired."

"No more tired than usual." It was true in a weird way. Your body was actually feeling less like it would need to sleep for a week to restore all its functions and more like something heavy you didn't recognize had wrapped itself around your shoulders. "You? How are you feeling?"

Jin fiddled with one of the bowls. "I'm alright."

On a couple shelves, away from where most of the action took place, your cookbooks were lined in neat rows. You picked up one of your favorites, the well-known chef smiling at you from the cover.

"It's okay if you aren't," you said. "It was very unexpected. It'd be understandable if you felt uncomfortable or upset. I didn't get a chance to warn you before bringing practically two strangers into your home."

The bowl was apparently very fascinating for Jin because he was looking nowhere else as he forced a smile. "I couldn't be upset. I was a stranger coming here, too."

You left the cookbook on the counter. "The circumstances were different. I had called the others before adopting you and we had all agreed that I would bring you home with me. I adopted you, you came to stay. They will be leaving soon."

"It's just... I'm not used to strangers," he admitted.

You moved around the kitchen island, standing next to him. You gave him space in case he wanted to move away but he only leaned closer to you. "This is your home and all I want for you is to feel safe here. I'm sorry I didn't call you to ask before bringing them here. I don't want you to act like you don't mind if you actually do. You have a right to be upset."

You brought your foreheads together, rubbing gently. A rare purr escaped Jin and although his cheeks reddened he didn't pull away at the sound like he used to do.

The kitchen filled with noise as you started preparing the dishes. You had decided on chicken with honey and garlic as the main dish and you would make a few side-dishes because you didn't know what the new hybrids liked to eat. Halfway through, when you had added the honey, the diced garlic and the soy sauce in the pan, the itch under your skin got too long and you left to go shower.

Washing away the day felt almost cathartic. The worst parts of it falling down the drain. It was your favorite part of coming home, second only to seeing your hybrids and spending time with them. Freshly washed and dressed into sweatpants and a comfortable top, you got out of your room. Dinner wasn't ready yet but Jin didn't need any more help. Any other day you would get your laptop and open one of the files in your to-do-list but this time you climbed down the stairs to the second level.

Knocking on the door, you took a step back and waited.

"Who is it?" a gruff voice you recognized as Yoongi's called from inside.

"It's Y/N." You didn't elaborate further, curious to see what he would do. Contrary to what you had expected, you heard the key being turned. The door opened, Yoongi peeking at you through the crack.

"What do you want?"

"Dinner is almost ready," you said. "I came to check in on you. Has Hoseok woken up? I wanted to see how well the medication worked."

You could sense Yoongi contemplating shutting the door in your face before a small voice from inside said, "I'm awake."

Yoongi muttered under his breath but opened the door further letting you in. The room was mostly untouched, only the bed Hoseok had been sleeping in gave an indication that someone had been inside. Yoongi had taken a shower but changed back into his own clothes, which he had pulled out from the small duffel bag. The green duffel bag, as worn as their clothes, was the only thing they had carried with them. It was small and certainly not enough for two people to live out of.

Hoseok was laying on the bed, making himself as small as he could without aggravating his injuries. In the hand that wasn't in the cast, he was clinging to the blanket he had with him in the abandoned building. It desperately needed to be washed but you weren't sure it could be salvaged. The light in the room was in the lower setting not to aggravate his eyes. His fluffy tail was curled around his waist, dirt staining it and parts sticking together with grime.

He stuttered answering your questions but overall he looked better. The granite floor with only a thin blanket to lay on wasn't a place someone could actually rest on. You offered to bring him some clothes to change into. Unlike Yoongi, he accepted.

Jacob's clothes had really come in handy. You would have never guessed that you would find a use for them when he left them behind. You had even considered throwing them out at one of your lowest points. Jacob's promise to remain friends and the excuse he would be coming over had been proven a lie or just wistful thinking. They weren't taking too much space, considering how large your closet was, but you had no use for them but sentimental memories you no longer needed. Until February, that is.

Some of Namjoon's clothes would fit Hoseok better, but you dismissed the idea without considering it. The hybrid's scent would be too prominent on the clothes. Jimin liked wearing the others' clothes because he claimed he loved being enveloped in their scents. It was also the reason he had stolen one of your hoodies that fit him and refused to give it back.

Jacob's scent had faded from his clothes after so many months, Namjoon had confirmed it. He had left in early December, five months had come and passed since then. You could remember the months leading up to the break up. It wasn't the fights, there weren't many of them, but the silence and the distance that had broken you. You had been at work all day and he had been at the studio. When he went out you either couldn't go because you were busy or you were too tired to. He didn't get your hobbies. He wasn't a fan of reading and he didn't let you listen to his tracks before they were ready. You weren't good at giving feedback, he had told you laughing after you had said the track felt like something was missing in the chorus. You had been getting further and further apart for more than a year. The house was but a way to fool yourself that everything was alright.

Yoongi had helped Hoseok shower, following your advice to not ruin the cast on his arm and wet the bandages you had wrapped around some of the deeper wounds.

Dinner was different. You had carried two trays down with Jin's help for the two hybrids. It was better for Hoseok not to move and even if he could, Yoongi wouldn't be thrilled at the idea. Jungkook didn't come up for dinner. He wouldn't leave the atelier and Jin carried another tray to him, because there was no way he would let him go without eating. Jimin asked after him. He didn't speak for the rest of dinner picking up the food on his plate with a guilty expression on his face.

John did come the next morning. He didn't press and didn't threaten anyone, not that you had expected him to but it was a relief nonetheless. John was an intimidating man with his height and bulkiness. Yoongi hissed, backing into a corner when he saw him. John looked him up and down, taking in his split lip, the bruises and his worn clothes, and then showed you a picture of his daughter on his phone. Yoongi regarded him for a little longer before disappearing again.

Jungkook and Jimin were avoiding each other. Jungkook did everything in his power not to find himself in the same room as Jimin, getting up and leaving whenever Jimin entered. The hurt on Jimin's face was heartbreaking every time it happened. You tried to comfort him but you couldn't do much when you were gone most of the day and you had to check Hoseok's injuries every morning and night.

You were in your office scanning a few documents when the email was delivered. Your hand froze, unable to comprehend the contents at first.

There was a knock on the half-opened door. Namjoon walked inside. "Are you coming for dinner?"

You looked up from your phone. "I have to go to Virginia the day after tomorrow."

#bts #bts hybrid au #btscreatorscorner #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #bts angst #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fluff #jikook #yoonmin #sope

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antarax · 3 years

Text

𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞�� 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞��𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

It's late at night when Damian makes a stop by your house with the intention to confess his feelings for you.

Damian Wayne x Black!Reader, gender neutral.

Words: 2,105

AN: Happy Valentine’s to all the beautiful black people in the fandom!! I dedicate this one to all of us, who rarely get any works that include us or are actually vague enough to. Hope you enjoy it 💞

It was a quiet, cold night in Gotham. Neon city lights blurred into your room as the muffled sounds of the videogame on the old TV kept you company, the blue hue of the fluorescent lights washing over your bedroom even through half-pulled curtains.

The day had been a slow and uneventful one. For you, at least, after the hope of receiving someone's valentine had been completely blown off, the same energy manifesting itself in you as the night also dragged itself along.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of your window opening, having had no expectations of anything more for the day –that, and the fact that it was well into the night already. You saw Damian standing outside with his hand on the window sill, a bag in the other, Robin uniform dirty and tattered as his cape fluttered violently with the breeze.

He seemed stuck in his place, as if he had been the one surprised, frowning like he hadn't expected you in your own room.

The slight semblance of a smile grew on your face, "Well, come in," you said, pausing the game.

It wasn't uncommon for Damian to stop by your building after a busy night, the moon shining beautifully in the sky and the clouds a beautiful swirl of the light as he came through your window expertly quiet. But, even then with the known comfortability and trust you two had managed to reach in your relationship, it also wasn't uncommon to feel like remnants of the younger, more insecure Damian still clung to him slightly.

Slightly as in heavily.

You watched him as he moved into the small space and set down the bag on the floor, taking off his gloves and mask with the rough delicacy you associated with him.

He stood as if he was tightly wound up, like perhaps he could breathe wrong, or whatever new, unspoken rule he'd created for himself plagued his mind now.

It was a little funny.

"I'm not going to eat you, you know?"

Damian rolled his eyes, "I'm aware."

"Doesn't look like it," You muttered, glancing down at the controller in your hands, "What's in the bag anyways?"

"I— Things."

You raised a brow.

"Food, sweets. Drinks."

"Really?"

"Yes," Damian replied, sitting down and sagging against the wall underneath the windowsill, chest rising and falling slowly as he exhaled deeply. Damian grabbed the bag again, putting it down next to you, "They're yours."

You set aside the controller and rummaged through the bag, the thoughts racing in your head. Damian knew you well and you him, your friendship spanning over a few years now. There had been a lot you'd trusted him with. Secrets, worries, embarrassing shit you'd done that still haunted you and Damian had been no different. He let you in on his bigger secret, how he carried the mantle of Robin every night. Some of his deepest remorses were ones that you had knowledge of; although never diving too deep in the murky waters of Damian’s life, you still valued the clear trust he had in you.

And along all these moments, every opportunity you've had to know each other, slowly and softly peeling aside the layers covering the people you were, a warm intimacy rooted itself in your growing friendship. A comfortable sort of intimacy.

Every once in a while you stopped by the manor on the quiet days where it was only Alfred and the animals. You helped Alfred in the kitchen whenever he was practicing for a new recipe or baking a dessert for the family later in the day. You spent hours with Damian in his room, where his cat Alfred would always curl up next to you on his bed as he worked on his art, walking around the manor or playing around with Titus and Batcow in the manor's backyard –which, really, was just an enormous open field that they were too humble to call so– and sometimes you'd even earn an invitation to dinner.

As for you, Damian tended to visit at night more so than day, but there were moments where he would show up on a sunny afternoon when everyone else wasn't home, slumping down on your couch for an hour or two before going back to his own things. Sometimes he'd drop by books he'd seen at the library, a small trinket he'd bought at the store and various other paraphernalia that, somehow, you always ended up loving.

Damian knew your taste well, and there was no doubt he'd spend countless amounts of time pondering over each of his gifts before they ever reached your hands. All things that while anyone else might have brushed over you appreciated immensely.

"You know," you began as you leaned back into the foot of your bed, ripping off pieces from a napkin you'd taken out of the bag, buying time. Hesitating, "I actually— sort of, was hoping for a valentine this year."

You gazed at Damian's eyes, your interest boring into them, digging as deep as you were allowed. They looked nervous, hilariously so. Almost like he'd been caught. But caught... doing what, exactly?

Perhaps caught in the middle of staring back at you as he'd tend to do; how he'd tend to do and assumed you didn't notice.

Or maybe caught when he would discreetly drop off something in your room or your locker after having seen it at the store or the cafeteria and knowing immediately you'd like it, always behind the guise of simple complacency. Caught, in his true intentions, what truly made him do all these otherwise insignificant things that were much too small even for somebody as detail-driven as Damian.

Olive-colored eyes still shifted uncomfortably in front of you as the sole giveaway of the true nervousness Damian was drowning in, refusing to show anything more of himself, even when it mattered.

Especially when it mattered. It was frustrating.

"You were?"

"Yeah," You shifted in your spot, "I was."

No one could ever, ever know something about Damian that he didn't share. It's just not something you could do. Not when it came to him. Anybody who knew anything at all about who Damian Wayne is, at his core in existence, knows it only because he's allowed them to.

And he'd allowed you to know this too, and yet now he was hesitating.

"You wished to have... a valentine. Anyone?"

"Anyone."

"You could have, easily, if you wanted it," Damian rolled his eyes.

"I could?" You smiled, and the twinkle in your eyes was nothing short of mischievous.

"Yes."

"Reeeally. How?"

Damian slouched against the wall, "Well, you'd simply have to ask," he said it as if it had been an obvious fact, "I'm sure anyone at the academy would've said yes."

Your smile widened as you raised your brows, "Oh?"

Damian frowned, "You are making fun of me."

"What do you mean? How."

Damian crossed his arms as you laughed.

"You think I'm making fun of you," you protested, "I'm not."

"TT."

"There's something you want to say, isn't there? Just spit it out, Damian."

Damian's eyes lingered all over the room. His hands had started to sweat a while ago and by then, his heart had sped up so much he was sure it was making some attempt at breaking through and out of his chest.

Originally, his plan had been to drop by and bring you a gift, but then he'd gotten nervous and internally malfunctioned, because he'd bought a double of everything so that you wouldn't assume it had been a gift and instead just him coming by to hang out like he always did.

He had planned to come by, tell you he'd... harbored a few unwanted feelings towards you and hoped you would have been tired enough that you wouldn't have realized it, but clearly, his plan had flipped over backwards and blown up in his face.

Damian took as deep a breath as possible with his collar putting him in a choke hold, as if trying to push out his words while simultaneously wanting to keep them buried the deepest he could.

"I— hm," He stared intently at the floor, for the first time in a while feeling like the small child who would trip over his own emotions again, but he was resolved to tell you, "I like you. I suppose."

It hadn't been surprising to Damian. More that it was hard to accept. He'd mulled over it for a long, long time. In fact, the reason he'd visited you tonight, made up his mind to tell you so, had been his ridiculously embarrassing performance.

Being surprised by petty thieves and thrown out of the loop by measly codes, none of which happen, ever, not to him at least. Damian was far above such childish mistakes, at least so he thought until he started taking a closer look at his own thoughts and realized your eyes had gone from brown to 'beautiful pools of honey', your skin a beautiful, shining shade of brown.

He was an artist, after all. He'd spent afternoons studying his environment, the shapes and colors, how everything fit in together; you were no stranger to his thoughts.

Which of course, you wouldn't know. If you had, you would have taken the jump much earlier. You would have never acted based off of assumption alone, but having the confirmation, well.

By now you had to contain your smile because surely, surely, your cheeks would be sore afterwards.

"Wow," you raised your brows in obvious mocking, "Really?"

Damian scrunched up his face in disgust, like he'd witnessed the most foul thing yet, crossing his arms tighter but refusing to meet your gaze as he turned to the wall.

"You know, Damian."

"Yes?"

"The valentine I was hoping for this year… was yours. You could've easily made a card and thrown some glitter over it and that would be the end of that."

"A card, with glitter?" Damian snapped his head at you, seeming almost bored as he spoke in a deadpan voice, "Is that how lowly you think of me?"

At this you did laugh, almost too loudly for one in the morning, that you had to push both your hands against your mouth.

Damian frowned, "Please do know that if I were to ever make something so miserable, it must be because I've been replaced. Which would not happen. Ever."

You stood, shuffling over to Damian and sitting down next to him.

He looked pretty underneath the moonlight coming through the window, the curls over his forehead looking soft and shiny.

Damian looked right into your eyes, for the first time that night not looking away, he was trapped now. Not truly, he could leave, but did he want to? Not at all.

Softly, Damian touched your hand, something perhaps akin to fear in his eyes as if he still expected rejection.

"Damian?"

"Hm?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

"Oh."

"Unless you don’t want me to."

"Please do. I mean—"

It was a shy and quick kiss, but so, so exciting as Damian's grip tightened around your hand and you leaned into him.

When you leaned away, it was with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Please do—"

Damian frowned again, clearly not amused. After a few seconds though, your laugh died out. Truth is, your stomach was churning. Because, while you were very much happy and excited, you were also incredibly nervous.

Both of you were stitching your thoughts back together, seconds of silence passing by. You were still holding Damian's hand.

He closed his eyes, frown deepening considerably and quickly before he spoke, vile spilling out of his mouth, "A card? With some glitter thrown over it?"

He looked downright furious, disgusted even.

"Seriously?"

"It's not that big of a deal," You chuckled, "Get over it."

"Hm."

Damian looked out the window, and you followed, the moon standing beautifully in the middle of the sky.

Damian sighed, "I have to go."

"Oh... okay."

He didn't move. Neither of you did.

Damian gave you a quick kiss again, looking absolutely scandalized when he pulled back. You stared at each other in complete disbelief before he stood up and started putting his gloves on again.

He pressed his hands onto the windowsill and took a deep breath.

Damian looked at you, tenderly, "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Damian." You smiled.

Damian gave you a small smile, "Hm."

You watched as he jumped off, grappling to the nearest building and laughed when you saw him standing still before disappearing into the night.

#DC #DC Comics #Batman #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Wayne x Black!reader #escritos

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bluenet13 · 3 years

Photo

No Me Digas Adios

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: 9-1-1: Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, 126 firefam, Reyes family, basically everyone makes at least a short appearance on this one.

Prompt: Distress Call.

Summary: All his life T.K. has been close to fear and the possibility of loss, but nothing could have prepared him for the moment he receives a distress call from a gravely injured Carlos. When it all becomes too much for T.K. and Carlos to handle on their own, the 126 and Reyes family are there to help.

Links: ff.net - AO3

"T.K, are you okay? What happened?" Nancy asked, sitting on the other side of the ambulance as they did inventory.

But T.K. wasn't listening, or he was, but the words weren't filtering. All he could focus on was his heart almost beating out of his chest and the ringing in his ears. The words that had just been spoken to him over the phone echoed over and over again on his mind and his world threatened to crumble down at any second.

Because Tyler Kennedy Strand thought he knew fear, he would even go as far to say that he was an expert at it. But never before had he felt such paralyzing terror.

Not standing rooted in place in front of the tv, at the mere age of 7, as he watched two skyscrapers collapse, all the while knowing his father, his hero, was one of those miniature figures fighting the chaos from below.

Not waking up in the hospital after overdosing the first time. Or overdosing a second time in his kitchen and fearing that his father would be forced to find his dead body.

Not the many times he had almost died on the job: almost consumed by flames, or crushed by a collapsing structure, and even shot once, and almost twice.

Tyler Kennedy Strand also thought he knew loss, but nothing could have prepared him for the all-consuming emptiness that he was suddenly feeling.

Not losing friends, teammates, and colleagues. And all his uncles and aunts from his dad's station when the towers had come down.

Not almost losing his father first in the attack, and later by the cancer brought upon by many years on the job.

Not even the many times he had almost lost himself. Almost destroyed from the inside out by the drugs he had voluntarily put into his system, or by the many calls almost gone fatally wrong.

T.K's life had been a series of almost disasters and they had all made him accustomed to fear and loss. But nothing he had faced before could prepare him for this moment.

"T.K?" Nancy called next to him, now drawing closer and shaking his shoulder. But the paramedic didn't even blink. "Tommy!" She shouted next, "something is wrong."

Tommy came running, stopping and hovering close as soon as she noticed T.K's blank stare and shaking hands. "What happened?" Her eyes were solely on T.K, but her question was directed at his partner because the man didn't seem in any position to answer for himself.

"I'm not sure. We were just doing inventory when he received a phone call, and that happened," Nancy explained, gesturing to T.K.

"Hey, T.K. can you tell us what's going on?" Tommy asked softly, "who called you?" Owen was at the station, and Gwyn wouldn't call her son before trying her ex-husband first, so that only left one person, but Tommy needed to be sure before raising alarms.

T.K. said nothing, just switched the call to speaker mode and continued to stare into space.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen." Carlos' pained voice came from the other end. "It was just a routine call, I don't know what went wrong." A cough, followed by a grunt.

"Carlos, it's Tommy. Where are you? What happened?" Tommy all but screamed, taking the phone from T.K, "I'm with T.K. and Nancy, how can we help?"

Another barely suppressed grunt, and a new fit of coughing. "Is T.K. there?" Carlos asked softly, "he hasn't said anything. I just needed to apologize, and to tell him I love him."

"Carlos, he's here. Just a little shaken," Nancy tried to explain, shooting a concerned look to her partner, "you can tell him everything you want when you see him. But now, where are you? Should we call your station? 9-1-1?"

"No cops," Carlos said quickly, making everyone frown, "and no time. T.K, I need to talk to T.K. Please."

That last comment seemed to have set something loose inside T.K. because tears instantly clouded his eyes as he launched forward to take the phone back from Tommy. "Carlos," he breathed out, "I'm here babe, give us a location. We will come pick you up. Patch you up and everything will be good."

"Don't ... know ... where," Carlos mumbled, a gurgling noise cutting in between his words. "And I can't find Mitchell. T.K, I'm so sorry. Just a routine call, but we were grabbed and left for dead. And Mitchell, I don't know where she is."

"Carlos, no one is dying," T.K. said, his voice pleading, both to the man on the other side of the line, and to any higher power willing to listen. "Just tell us where, please. What can you see around you? We will search, and find you, I promise," T.K. begged, tears now flowing freely down his face because Carlos was beginning to repeat himself, clearly disoriented, and T.K. knew that was a sign of too much blood loss and pointed to eventual shock.

"Blindfold when we were moved," Carlos explained weakly, "now I only see dirt and grass, maybe water nearby."

The emptiness T.K. was feeling growing into a void that threatened to swallow him whole as he silently wondered if his boyfriend had been left for dead in a ditch somewhere in Austin.

"But T.K, please promise me you'll be okay. Promise me you will let your friends help you. Don't shut down, don't…" Carlos continued, his voice growing quieter by the second.

Use again. Carlos didn't say it, but T.K. just knew.

"... I just wanted to say goodbye. I love you, baby. Always have, always will." Carlos sobbed, his voice now barely above a whisper. "Please tell… tell Gabriel and mami that I love them, and that I'm just so sorry."

"Carlos, no. Please, give us something more and we will look for you. Where was the call?" T.K. continued to plead, because Austin was too big a city to begin a search without any kind of clue or hint, and there was dirt, grass and water in more than a few places. And T.K. trusted Carlos enough to accept that he couldn't call the cops. He didn't know why, but Carlos was a boy in blue through and through, and for him to say that, something major must have happened.

"I'm sorry, babe. But you'll be okay, just remember I love you," Carlos said softly. "Goodbye, T.K." And just like that, the line went dead.

"Carlos? No, no, Carlos?" T.K. shouted over and over again, but the call had cut short. And no matter how many times he tried to call again Carlos wasn't picking up.

Getting out of the ambulance, T.K. stumbled and practically collapsed. Back sliding down the wall of the apparatus bay as all his contrasting emotions began to overpower him. Carlos' words continuing to echo on his head, making T.K's sobs become more frantic, his breathing coming in small gasps.

"Breathe, T.K, breathe," Marjan was saying as she kneeled next to him. But when had she gotten there? TK shook his head to help clear it and noticed that Nancy was no longer doing inventory and Tommy wasn't standing on the doors to the ambo. They were both standing next to Judd who was now on the phone, Owen was also talking to someone on his cellphone, and Paul and Mateo were walking towards him with a cup of steaming tea and tissues in hand, both which they wordlessly passed to T.K. before clapping his back and squeezing his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Got it! Thank you, Gracie. You really are our guardian angel. I will let you know as soon as we find something," Judd shouted a few minutes later, as he threw his phone back into his pocket and ran towards T.K. "Carlos and his partner were responding to a 9-1-1 call, Grace gave me the details and the original address. Might not be much, but it's a place to start."

Wasting no time, T.K. ran to the passenger side of the ambulance, knowing that his boss and partner would follow.

"Tommy, I sent the address to the firehouse group chat," Judd hollered, already climbing into the truck.

"We will meet you all there," Owen said, running to follow Judd, with Marjan, Paul and Mateo close behind.

"Wait, you all don't have to come," T.K. croaked.

"Of course we have, son," Owen said softly, "we can't risk anything else happening to the three of you. Plus, Carlos is family. And, speaking of family, I already called Mr. Reyes, Gabriel and the Rangers will meet us there, too."

"Thank you." T.K. could only whisper the words because while he had let Carlos' distress call throw his mind and heart into complete chaos, Tommy and Nancy had rallied the troops and now they had a place to start searching for Carlos. And for now, that just had to be enough.

-x-x-x-

"Carlitos, what are you doing laying there? You have to get up."

"Mami?" Carlos asked, opening his eyes and squinting as intense brightness blurred his vision. "Where are we?"

"What's that? We're at Pleasant Valley, of course. Don't you remember, mijo? We used to come here when you were a kid so you could play on the sand next to the river," Andrea explained as if it was obvious. And Carlos could only chuckle humorlessly because there was nothing pleasant about his situation, just a lot of pain, the feeling of too much blood soaking his clothes and a cold sensation that began deep in his bones and extended all over his body, so the word just made him angry.

"Okay," Carlos said simply, not really able to recall the memories his mother spoke of. His mind was a fog of confusion and he couldn't hold onto any thought for more than a few seconds. But he did try to lift this head, barely, and allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he saw the river and the beautiful sunset casting the water a bright yellow. Taking in the view before his strength gave in and his face fell back into the dirt, Carlos absentmindedly acknowledged that from all possible places this was a nice one to go. Just too bad the area was not totally safe at dark so no bystander would stumble upon his body until it was too late.

"You have to stay awake, mi vida," Andrea said sharply but softly, kneeling next to her son and cupping his cheek. Her other hand caressing his brown curls.

Carlos opened his eyes at that, not even realizing they had slid shut. "But I'm so cold, ma, and tired. I just need to rest a little, solo un poco," Carlos mumbled pleadingly, unconsciously leaning close to the warm, comforting touch of his mother.

"I know, but you need to be ready when they come. You need to be able to answer their calls," Andrea directed softly.

"I'm scared, mami," Carlos whispered, "I don't want to die. Not now, not yet, after I finally found what I'd been looking for." Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he remembered T.K. and how he had given him a family, not only with his love, but also how T.K's team had accepted him as one of their own. But Carlos knew this cold he was feeling wasn't natural and he was too weak to save himself now.

"You're not really here, are you?" Carlos asked sadly, when his mother remained quiet, a lone tear sliding down his face at the realization.

"I'm always with you, Carlitos. Right here." Andrea moved her hand and placed it on top of Carlos' heart. "Even when you can't see me, solo recuerda que yo siempre estoy contigo."

Carlos' eyes clouded with more tears and he blinked them a few times, his heart breaking as soon as his vision cleared and he realized that his mother was gone. And he was alone again. Had always been alone.

-x-x-x-

"Carlos!" T.K. shouted for what felt like the hundredth time. "Carlos? Please answer us."

T.K, the rest of the firehouse, and Gabriel and the Rangers had met up an hour ago. They had exchanged some quick words, Gabriel sharing what he had been able to find out about the call Carlos had been responding to, and how his boss suspected that Carlos and Mitchell had been led into an ambush by some cops they had been helping IA investigate. While T.K. had recalled in painful detail everything his mind remembered or had just picked up during Carlos' call. Then they had all gone their separate ways to search in their assigned quadrants.

20 minutes into the search, Marjan, Paul and Mateo had found Mitchell, shot and unconscious on the side of the Colorado River Park Wildlife Sanctuary. Her pulse had been weak but she was alive, so another ambulance had transported her to the hospital and now she was in surgery. Tommy and Nancy wanting to stay behind so they could be the ones to treat Carlos once they found him.

But another half hour of desperate shouting had yielded nothing, and no one had any idea if they were even close to locating Carlos or if they had dumped his body farther away.

"We will find him. Your boy's strong. He will hold on for us. For you," Judd said softly, coming to stand near T.K. and offering him a bottle of water. The relenting sun had not yet lowered all the way down and the summer heat was taking its toll in all of them.

"But you didn't hear him, Judd. He sounded so hurt, and so weak," T.K. mumbled, "how can you be sure?" He finished, daring but terrified, to sound hopeful.

"Because he has you. When our car went into the water, Grace was trapped and I couldn't get her out. But she held on because she knew I was waiting for her on the other side. And Carlos knows that too. So he will fight, he will fight with everything that he has to get back to you."

"But sometimes that's not enough," T.K. said more to himself than to the man standing beside him.

"Don't you think I know that, brother?" Judd challenged, fighting memories of his old team and the wives, husbands and children they had been forced to leave behind. "But sometimes it has to be enough. And we just ought to believe it. Believe that there's someone up there willing to bend the hands of time for us. Give Carlos a little longer so we can find him on time. So, let's go. Time to keep searching."

T.K. just nodded at that, following Judd as they continued to search in their assigned section. But even as he shouted Carlos' name over and over again, he felt himself losing hope. And at that moment, T.K. could only wish that he shared some of Judd's faith. Because when rationality tells you that your boyfriend had probably already bled out, the belief in some higher power granting you a miracle is one of the few things that can help keep you going.

And with that thought, T.K. began to silently pray. Barely remembering the words he had been taught as a young child, but saying them as best as he could, as he begged to any God willing to listen to please save Carlos. Not for himself, because T.K. doubted he deserved pity from any deities, and all his miracles had already been used the times he hadn't died after overdosing, but for Carlos himself, because the man was too young, too good, and too pure, and just didn't deserve to die so soon.

-x-x-x-

"Carlos, abre los ojos," Gabriel Reyes ordered.

"Yes, Sir," Carlos said, trying to sound stronger than he felt. And following his father's commanding voice, he had no choice but to follow the order. Looking up at his father from eyes at half-mast, Carlos rapidly blinked a few times as he tried to clear the blood that had slid into his eyes from what he assumed was a wound somewhere on his head. Stifling a groan, Carlos then tried to find a more comfortable position. Which he should have realized was an impossible task when you were lying face down in some kind of ditch. "Sorry," he muttered. Missing the comforting presence of his mother, and not wanting his father's disapproving voice to be the last thing he heard, even when he knew it was only happening in his mind.

"I didn't raise you to give up so easily. No son of mine is a quitter, Carlos Reyes. And you didn't follow in my footsteps just to die on the shore. So open your eyes and fight like a Reyes," Gabriel continued to push.

Tanto nadar para morir en la orilla. His dad's words made Carlos remember the family saying his mother used to tell him all the time when he was a child wanting to quit something and she wanted him to try very hard and not give up just before he made it. Ignoring the agonizing pain he was feeling, Carlos allowed himself a brief smile, recalling his mama's voice saying the words when he had wanted to quit futbol after a bad season, or when he fell off a horse when he was learning to ride at his abuelo's ranch and angrily said that he would never ride again. And even as an adult when he had sometimes questioned his desire to become a cop.

Drawing strength from all those times he had succeeded after hearing his mother say those words, Carlos set his hands under his body and pushed himself slightly up, managing to turn himself around, before collapsing onto his back. Staring at the sky, Carlos gasped for breath, but felt better just by the fact he was no longer face down practically eating dirt.

"That's my boy," Gabriel boasted, making Carlos's face scrunch in confusion partially because he thought his dad sounded proud, or maybe that was wishful thinking brought upon by the blood loss, but also just by the fact his father was still there at all. "We're coming, mijo. You just have to hold on and be ready. Then the hospital will patch you up and your mama is going to take you to the ranch and cook her famous hervido for you, you know that soup can even raise the dead. So, please Carlos, just hold on for a little while longer."

"I'll try, dad. But if not, just know that I did fight. With everything I've got," Carlos said desperately, choking on his own sobs when he looked up and realized his father was no longer there. So now he could only hope that his family and boyfriend would really know that he had given it his all. Alone again, Carlos' lips began to move in a silent prayer, as his hand instinctively reached for the Rosary he always carried around his neck, under his uniform shirt, the one his mother had given him the same night he graduated from the academy.

-x-x-x-

"Carlos!"

Carlos opened his eyes and gasped, "please no," he whispered, knowing he wouldn't be able to take another hallucination, especially if this one was T.K.

"Carlos!"

Desperate to get away, Carlos shut his eyes and shocked his eyes, grunting when the movement increased his agony.

"Carlos!"

T.K's voice shouted again, closer this time, and curiosity got the better of him, so Carlos reopened his eyes. He could see what he thought were flashlights in the distance, and now that he focused more on his surroundings, he recognized different voices alongside his boyfriend's, one clearly belonging to his father. All shouting his name.

Remembering his father's promise that they were coming, Carlos swallowed a few times to relieve his dry throat before he put his faith in the hands of God. If this was another hallucination it would probably break him, but if it wasn't it could mean salvation.

"T.K, here, I'm here!" Carlos shouted, using all of his remaining strength, "T.K, dad, please help," he ended up in a whisper, coughing and choking on a mouthful of blood.

Seconds stretched into minutes and Carlos tried to call again but his voice wouldn't come out any higher than a weak whimper. But seeing the flashlights move farther away, Carlos gathered the remaining of his strength and shouted his boyfriend's name one last time.

-x-x-x-

"T.K," the unmistakable voice of his boyfriend called back and T.K. whirled around desperate to find its source.

Looking down at the river, T.K. gasped as soon as he noticed a shoe coming out from some bushes, a hand a little farther away hanging limply into the water. Terrified of what he would find, but placing all of his hopes and dreams on the fact that he had heard Carlos' voice so that meant he was still alive, T.K. ran to the waterfront, sliding on the rocky shore and getting his clothes wet. But not caring at all.

Reaching inside the shrub, T.K. pushed the overgrown branches away and almost had another near panic attack as soon as his eyes landed on Carlos. He was lying on his back, looking paler than T.K. had ever seen him and covered in more blood than should be okay to have outside once body, but T.K. ignored it all and focused instead on his barely open eyes and the slight fall and rise of his chest. But still needing a bigger reassurance, T.K. moved his hands to Carlos' pulse point and felt his eyes cloud with tears as soon as he felt something, because Carlos was really alive, and this near disaster would one day just be another almost finale in their histories.

"I found him. Gabriel, Judd, dad, I found him!" T.K. shouted as hard as he could before turning back to his boyfriend, and kneeling down next to him. "Babe, I'm here. You're going to be okay. Nancy and Tommy are here. My dad, and your dad, too. Everyone is here. You will be okay, you will be okay. I promise," T.K. began rambling, not sure if he was trying to convince himself or Carlos, but he didn't think that mattered.

Carlos said nothing, just continued to stare wide-eyed at T.K.

"Tell me what hurts, what happened?" T.K. asked, already moving his hands to stop the blood of flow from the very obvious gunshot wound on Carlos' side. But there appeared to be another gunshot, or maybe stab wound on his other side, and Carlos was generally bruised all over, and T.K. only had two hands to work with, so he turned around and shouted again. "Help, we need help!"

"Are you really here?" Carlos whispered, lip quivering as he reached with a trembling hand and grabbed T.K's shirt.

"What?" T.K asked confused, before he recognized the fear in Carlos' eyes. "Carlos, baby, I'm here, I promise." He then grabbed Carlos' hand and set it over his heart, hoping the beat would help ground him.

"You found me," Carlos cried, "you really found me." He sounded incredulous and it broke T.K's heart that the usually stoic officer had seemingly given up.

"I'll always find you, Carlos. Always. So don't ever say goodbye to me again," T.K, promised, but any other words were cut short as soon as the rest of the search party finally reached them. Judd grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back as Nancy and Tommy got right to work. They packed the wounds, and set Carlos on oxygen, a heart monitor and IV, while Marjan, Paul and Mateo fumbled with the stretcher on the sandy shore and Owen drove the ambulance, trying to park it as close as possible. Gabriel and the Rangers standing to the side as they let the paramedics and firefighters work, knowing their time would come later when they brought to justice every dirty cop involved in what had happened to Carlos and Mitchell.

And at that moment T.K. realized that for as long as he loved, he would never really know the extent of fear and loss. Because the more you love, the more you fear what you have to lose. But seeing his team, his family, rally around him and his boyfriend, and noticing how Carlos was oblivious to everything going on around him, his eyes instead glued to his, T.K. knew that he wouldn't change this for anything. So, every day, he would gladly deal with the uncertainty and dangers of their jobs, the fear of the unknown and the threat of loss, and just continue hoping that they had many more almosts to live through.

And as Tommy and Nancy finished their work and loaded Carlos into the stretcher, T.K's eyes landed on Carlos's phone discarded to the side, sprinkled with droplets of water but still mostly dry. The sight brought a new wave of panic to T.K. as he thought back to the call, and he had the sudden urge to throw it into the river, but T.K. remembered the many pictures of the two that it contained and which he wasn't sure Carlos had backed up, so he just shook his head and picked it up. Dropping the phone inside his pocket, T.K. sighed and followed everyone towards the ambulance.

-x-x-x-

"Mami, come on, I can get out of the car on my own," Carlos grumbled, pulling his arm away from his mother. "And I don't need help carrying my bag either. I'm okay, really. You don't need to fuss over me."

"You were just shot, Carlitos. Also beaten and stabbed. And you had surgery and spent almost two weeks in the hospital. You and your partner are both lucky to be alive," Andrea chided, making another attempt to grab Carlos' hand and snatching the bag from his son. "Besides, I'm your mother, it's my job to fuss over you."

"Not anymore, I have T.K. for that now," Carlos said, a mischievous smile on his face as he finally relented, letting his mother guide him out of the car and toward the entrance to the main house in the Reyes Ranch.

"I don't fuss," T.K. squealed indictantly, stepping out of the other side of the SUV.

"You do," Carlos, Andrea and Gabriel responded at the same time.

"I don't," T.K. protested.

"In the hospital you were getting up every five minutes to fluff Carlos' pillows," Gabriel said.

"And you kept offering a cup of water with the bendy straw and another blanket every time Carlos woke up," Andrea added.

"Not to say you threatened to call the nurses every time I so much as breathed the wrong way," Carlos finished.

T.K. could say nothing to that, so instead he grunted and moved to the trunk to grab the groceries they just bought on the way from the hospital. "I wonder if it is too late to call the station and ask to get back on tomorrow's shift," he mumbled under his breath, still pouting as the Reyes family ganged up on him.

"None of that, T.K. You're staying here with us. I was very glad to hear you requested a week off work to help Carlitos. I was starting to get a little bit jealous with you three bonding alone every time one of you gets hurt," Andrea said, the worry hidden behind her words evident, even as she tried to sound lighthearted. "And speaking of which, I don't want any more of that. You two have already gotten hurt enough to last me a lifetime. So no more gunshot or stabbing wounds, concussions or kidnappings," she warned.

"Sí, mami," Carlos easily agreed, knowing he could never really promise her that but still wanting to alleviate her fears.

"All this worrying and hospital visits are taking years off my life, mijo. You have to take better care of yourself. You know your Tía Emilia made it to 103 and she didn't do so by worrying so much!" Andrea continued to chastise her son, even as she leaned forward to press a kiss on his forehead. "And the other day I found a grey hair, could you believe that? Reyes women don't get canas, Carlitos."

"Enough of that, Andrea. Leave the boy alone, Carlos has had a long week and he needs to rest," Gabriel said, taking pity on his son. "And we don't want them running away to that condo of his, so let's not push too much." Taking Carlos' bags from his wife, Gabriel kissed her on the cheek before he ushered everyone inside.

"Don't worry, Sir. We're not leaving. I keep hearing about Andrea's famous hervido and I can't wait to try it," T.K. said cheerfully.

"Suck-up," Carlos mumbled under his breath.

"I would never," T.K whispered back, "give me those, Mr. Reyes, I can carry them for you," he added, louder this time, moving to grab the bags, even as his hands were already almost full with the groceries.

Carlos could only roll his eyes, even as the corner of his lip twitched upward. His heart bursting with love and gratitude as he saw the effort T.K. was putting into getting to know his parents.

"Come mijo, come sit on the couch and I'll bring some blankets for you," Andrea said, pulling Carlos away from his thoughts and into the house. "T.K, just set the groceries on the kitchen counter and I'll be right there. You boys can rest while Gabriel helps me chop the veggies. I will prepare a snack while the soup is ready."

"Andrea, leave the boys alone. I'm sure Carlos can get his own blanket and if not he can ask T.K. for help," Gabriel said in practiced ease, pushing his wife towards the kitchen and chuckling as his son mouthed a silent thank you.

"Thanks for being here," Carlos said softly, as he carefully lowered himself onto the couch, barely suppressing a grunt as his stitches pulled.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, Carlitos," T.K. said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief, even as he continued to hover close, trying not to fuss over his boyfriend but at the ready in case he needed something.

Carlos grunted but said nothing, and just threw a pillow, hitting T.K. on the side of the head.

"I mean it. For a moment there, I thought I would never see you again, and I've never been so scared in my life," T.K. whispered, completely serious now and his eyes glistening with tears.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, you know I would never leave you willingly. Thank you for not giving up on me and continuing to search, thank you for finding me," Carlos whispered back, drawing T.K. to him and slowly wiping the tears from his eyes before his hands moved to cup his face and their lips crashed into each other.

"You have never given up on me, Carlos. And God knows I have given you ample reason, especially in the beginning. But now I'm here for the long run, if you would have me," T.K said sincerely, pulling back for a second before he moved forward again, deepening the kiss and pouring all his fears, relief and love into that one gesture.

"I would have you for all this lifetime and any other," Carlos murmured against his lips, "and I think my parents would agree. You're fitting in nicely as a Reyes."

"I like the sound of that, but I think my dad would have something to say about it and argue that you'd look good as a Strand too," T.K. said, surprising himself because the meaning of what their words were implying wasn't scaring him as much as he would have thought.

"Well, we can figure that out later, right? We have time," Carlos asked hopefully, remembering T.K's reaction the first time he had cooked them dinner and scared to push, but also happy that T.K. seemed open to the same future he dreamed for the two of them.

"We have all the time in the world, babe. Now time to rest," T.K promised, kissing Carlos one last time before he pushed them both down onto the couch. Carlos' head instantly coming to rest on T.K's shoulder as his eyes closed and his breathing evened out. Both T.K. and Carlos falling asleep within minutes, with Gabriel and Andrea, unbeknown to the pair, looking at them from the kitchen with big, hopeful smiles on their faces. Turns out Carlos and T.K. aren't the only ones with big dreams involving a joined Reyes-Strand family sometime in the near future.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fanfiction #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #bad things happen bingo

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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eunoia - chapter 1

Summary: Quinn is back in Delacroix, Louisiana

Sam Wilson x Quinn (Asian ofc)

Warnings: Some spoilers for Civil War, Inifinity War, Endgame and TFATWS

Wordcount: 3.2k

Masterlist // eunoia masterlist // Previous chapter

I watched AJ and Cass grow up into the boys they are now. It might be obvious to some, but I came to the realization that every step of their development is crucial. Teaching them boundaries, new skills and their abilities when it comes to social interaction.

Noticing that importance, made me wonder even more about the things that had happened in my past. What significant events happened for me to become who I am today. I don’t feel like anyone, like I have no personality, no history.

Fragments of memories are the only things I have left of my past. I remember laughing with people, though they remain faceless till this day. I remember warm weather, cold weather, but the hugs are the same. They are loving, caring. But there is also a lot of pain and exhaustion. There is confusion when I saw Bucky for the first time being contained in a small cell.

But those fragments are not equal to an entire memory.

Everything I started to experience is from the moment Zemo let me out of that cell back in Munich. Fighting alongside the Avengers, though never actually being one of them, meeting people during my solo trips through the country and sleeping in abandoned buildings by myself, since I had no money.

Delacroix, Louisiana, however, is the only place I dare to call home. I know there is a place somewhere that used to be home, but since I haven’t found that yet, I’ll rely on the place that feels most secure.

Of course I was aware that going here could mean bumping into Sam. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, because I missed spending time with the Wilson’s, especially AJ and Cass. I wonder though, what Sam might think. Me spending time with his family in the years he couldn’t.

I grew so close to the three of them, whilst we only had one thing in common.

Knowing Sam.

Since Tony’s funeral and Steve handing the shield to Sam, I have been wandering around the different states, even making slight detours to Canada, hoping to find something. I have been so desperately wanting to know something for so long. Anything that could be something that should be a treasured memory of mine.

Much to my dismay, I am still left in the dark. I have no idea who I am, where my roots started and who is out there missing me.

Are there even people missing me?

After I scolded the boys for growing, I hold up my hand to the older guy who has been appreciating my arrival from the moment I got here a little over five years ago. ‘Hi Carlos,’ I say to him.

‘Miss Quinn!’ he exclaims, rushing over to me in the fastest pace he can and hugs me tightly when I’m within arms reach. ‘Oh, do I love it when you join us.’

‘I love to be back.’

‘You’re gonna help me out, right?’ Carlos asks. ‘Things go much slower without you here. No one has come even close to your strength.’

‘I figured,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ll help you out, okay?’

He blows me a kiss, before AJ, Cass and I walk towards Sarah and Sam. I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am. While Sam was contemplating whether or not to take the shield from Steve, I sneaked out. Ran off hating Steve. Hating the fact that he got older. Being able to go back in time, to not only place back the Stones and what not, but also to grow older with Peggy.

The love of his life.

He got to live his happily ever after with someone from his past, something that I would probably never experience. It took me months to realize that I wasn’t mad at him.

I was simply jealous.

Sarah opens her arms for me and I don’t waste a single second before letting myself being engulfed in her warm embrace. How I longed to feel a hug from her. ‘I missed you,’ she says to me.

‘I missed you too,’ I admit softly.

‘Don’t you dare leave me alone for too long.’ She holds onto my upper arms and glares at me. ‘The kids missed you too much.’

‘We did,’ they confirm in unison

I can’t help but laugh. ‘I missed them and you too much as well, hence the reason I came back.’

‘Oh, so you didn’t came back for my brother?’ She cocks an eyebrow. ‘He too just arrived.’

Sam scoffs and I pretend to roll my eyes, but I cannot miss the tone in her voice. She always pestered me about her brother, saying that if he were still here, we’d probably be all over each other.

Yeah right…

I remember first arriving here and staying in the guest room, one where Sam used to sleep if he crashed here in Delacroix. She caught me looking at pictures of Sam and slightly bullied me because of it. Maybe it seemed like I liked him, but the truth is: I realized how much I missed him.

Back when I helped out the Avengers, he was the only one I truly trusted. Because I cared so much about him, I went out of my way to go to his DC apartment in the midst of all chaos, to grab some personal belongings of his and make my way to his family.

Sam promised me he would always have my back and I don’t blame him for not keeping his promise. It’s just that now that he is back and I’m about the face him, it hits me how much his five year absence killed me deep down.

I’m too afraid to meet his eyes, but I know I have to eventually. ‘Solely for the kids,’ I say to Sarah, because that is the main reason I came back. The kids and Sarah.

Sarah squeezes my upper arms, almost as some encouragement and I look up to Sam. ‘Hi Quinn,’ he says to me, his voice warm, welcoming and trusting.

I missed him. I missed him looking at me. All of his attention directed to the person he’s talking to. It’s good to be on the receiving end of it.

‘Hi Sam.’

‘How are you?’

I have no idea actually. ‘I’m okay,’ I answer. ‘You look good.’

He seems a bit surprised, but a slightly cocky smirk appears on his lips. ‘As do you.’

Sarah frowns, as she looks from me to Sam back to me again. ‘How about you two catch up?’ She opens a cool box and grabs two beers. ‘I’ve got your favorite, Quinn. You must be tired from your trip. You deserve it.’

‘You’re the best, Sarah, thank you.’

Both AJ and Cass stand next to me and give me a tight hug. ‘You’re already taking her away, uncle Sam?’ AJ asks. ‘That’s so unfair. We want to know how the battle against Thanos went.’

‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ I say to them, slightly touched because they don’t want me to go.

‘Is this Superhero talk?’ AJ asks, looking at his uncle.

‘Boys, I told you,’ I say, ‘I’m no superhero.’

‘But you’re really strong,’ Cass says. ‘I think you are a superhero.’

‘She totally is,’ Sam says. ‘You should’ve seen her in the battlefield.’

I don’t do blushing, but I do this other thing: my ears turn in this fiery red color. It’s horrible, I hate it and of course today of all days I’m wearing my hair up in a ponytail, for everyone to see how the tips of my ears turn red.

‘Uncle Sam, to be fair, we like her more than we like you.’

Sam cocks an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’ he asks. ‘That means I need to work extra hard to be number one again.’

‘If you get me one of those flying suits, you two are even.’

‘AJ,’ Sarah says, ‘we spoke about this. I’m not gonna let you fly around. Sorry Sam, you’re in third place.’

‘Third place?’ Sam asks, pretending to be offended. ‘Why third?’

‘Because mom is number one, auntie Quinn is number two and you are number three,’ Cass says. ‘Duh.’

Sam and I sit on the dock, both staring at the old boat. Paul & Darlene. A nearly nostalgic smile appears on my lips. ‘Sarah and I tried to fix it up,’ I say, flicking the cap off the beer bottle, doing the same for Sam. ‘Emphasis on tried. We didn’t have a lot of money, we had tons of other stuff to do and I have no idea on how to fix up a boat.’

Sam nods, grabbing the beer from me as I hand it to him. ‘Figured, think the two of you broke something in the process,’ he chuckles.

‘That would’ve been me, I’m sorry.’ I take a sip of the beer and think about the next thing I’m gonna say. ‘So,’ I start, ‘you gave up the shield.’

‘Not in the way you might think,’ he says, almost in a bit of a defensive tone. ‘I didn’t give it up. I gave it to the museum where it belongs. It’s a piece of history, not mine to use.’

I frown, as I fear that he might not know what I know. ‘You think it’s gonna stay in a museum?’ I ask.

Now he looks up. ‘Of course, what do you think?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘it’s not gonna be part of the exhibition. There is… Someone who will receive the shield soon.’

It pains me to see his expression. The hurt, the betrayal. Poor Sam, he obviously wasn’t told about that. ‘I had no idea.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘How do you know?’

I shrug. ‘I went to one of my hackers,’ I say, ‘to see if he could help me with carefully running my picture through any database. We stumbled upon some governmental documents and it read that once they had the shield, they would give it to some guy who is training for it. I believe his name was John Walker.’

‘That could be anyone,’ Sam notes with a scoff.

‘Exactly,’ I agree, ‘but it shouldn’t be anyone. Steve gave that shield to you, not this John Walker guy. I’m not saying that giving the shield for an exhibition was wrong, but… I do know this is not what both you or Steve had in mind when you gave the shield to the Smithsonian.’

Sam shakes his head and from the looks of it, he is beating himself up over this. ‘They should’ve told me.’

‘Had they told you, would you kept the shield?’

He nods. ‘It’s Steve shield, not mine, not this John guy.’

I have no idea what I should say to him. I want to say about myself that I know how to comfort someone, but that someone is not a grown man. The only ones I can remotely comfort, are AJ and Cass and when necessary, I can sort of calm Sarah down (though I have gone wrong there maybe once or twice).

‘Is this John Walker gonna go public any time soon?’ Sam asks.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why do you think Steve gave me that shield?’

I was not expecting that question at all, but it’s an easy one to answer. ‘You’re the only one worthy of the shield, of that legacy. You are more than Captain America’s friend, Sam. You are the only one that can live up to the expectation.’

‘I don’t know, Quinn.’

‘Listen, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t have hesitations. It only shows that you are humble and I think that is exactly the type of man Steve wanted for the shield.’

From the looks of it, Sam grows more and more uncomfortable. To redirect the conversation, he clears his throat and says: ‘Bucky isn’t gonna like this.’

Oh boy, I hadn’t even thought of that. ‘Have you spoken to him?’

He shakes his head. ‘Nah, he ignores my texts.’

I can’t stop my smile. ‘Mine too.’

‘Oh, you’ve been texting him?’ Sam asks. eyebrow cocked.

‘Sometimes,’ I say, ‘it’s just that I figured we had something in common. He just went totally AWOL after his pardoning and I have no idea what he is doing. I bet he doesn’t even wanna be found. If there is something going on, he’ll show up.’

‘Well, good thing Bucky doesn’t even know where I live,’ he says, ‘think you and I are safe for a while.’

I chuckle, looking at my beer bottle. ‘Yeah, bet you’re right.

That night, I walk into the room I always sleep in when I stay over at the Wilson’s, only to discover a shirtless Sam, in nothing else but boxers near the bed. That looks abnormally good, I think to myself, before I realize that it’s considered rude to just walk into a room like that. ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I’m so sorry.’ I pull down the sleeping shirt, hoping it covers up my legs more.

‘No, I am,’ he says. ‘I could’ve known you would sleep here. Let me grab some blankets and I’ll take the couch.’

‘You’re taking the couch?’ I ask.

‘Yeah.’

I’ve slept on that thing and if it was uncomfortable for me, who is the size of a kid, it must be even worse for him.‘The bed is large enough,’ I say. ‘Pick a side.’

‘I don’t want to cross any line, Quinn.’

‘You won’t,’ I say. ‘Believe me, I shared sleeping spaces with people, most of which were… different than you, in the negative sense.’

‘Right,’ he says. ‘I want the right side, closer to the door.’ I watch Sam stepping in that part of the bed and slide underneath the covers and I walk around the bed, stepping in as well. We stare at the ceiling and the only thing we can hear is the breathing of one another.

I missed being in the Wilson’s residence. I missed the talks we would have, the food we would eat and the way the boys would talk. They’ve gone a long way and I sound like an old grandma, but I am so proud of them. Growing up during the blip, watching their mom work hard, that must’ve been tough, but they pulled through.

They grew up to be fine young men, who are strong, who are kind and mostly, who still know how to be kids.

But what’s different now is the presence of Sam and it’s not an unpleasant one. He obviously loves his sister and nephews and even after coming back from a rough mission, he gives them his time and attention.

Everything he has to offer.

Even if that means annoying his sister about the family boat. Sarah told me all about that dragon of a money sucker. It costs a lot and she doesn’t have time nor the money to renovate.

‘Where have you been?’ he asks.

‘When?’

‘Those five years and those months after the shield.’

I let out a sigh. ‘I have been wandering around the country after the blip, hoping to find out more about me. To no luck, I came in empty handed. After the shield, I continued wandering. Just realized I needed family. I needed Sarah.’

‘Thanks for helping her out.’

‘Oh, she didn’t need helping out,’ I say. ‘Besides, I wasn’t much of a help.’

‘I bet you were,’ Sam says with a smile. ‘You’re tired, go have some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

That night, I yet again have a dreamless dream. I never dream. Maybe I did, but I don’t remember. I barely remember everything. There are three major things in life that are the foundation of my life.

I hate cold weather, the person who has been playing a major role in my life is Bucky, who I haven’t spoken to for months and I have enhanced powers, but I have no idea where they are coming from.

Things in my life never made sense.

I remember when Zemo freed me, only for me to roam through the city of Münich and be caught by the team of Everett Ross. How Bucky has been a part of my life, has always been a mystery, because Bucky can only tell me he would see me back in his cell, before Hydra wiped him.

But what have I got to do with Hydra?

The next morning my eyes flutter open. I take a deep breath and lift up my head, only to realize I was resting it on Sam’s strong chest. ‘Morning,’ he says, his voice deep and it almost sounds like liquid gold.

Shit, I’m too close. ‘Good morning,’ I say, pushing myself up. ‘I am sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’

‘Sure? You feared you were overstepping, but now I am the one. How long have I been… resting like this.’

‘The second you drifted off to sleep. You’re a wild one. Think I’ve got at least a few bruises and broken ribs with that super strength of yours.’

‘Sorry,’ I chuckle. ‘I hope you’re okay.’

‘I’ll live.’ He sits up straighter and rubs his eyes.

‘How did you sleep?’ I ask.

‘Alright,’ he says. ‘It always takes a bit of getting used to when I get back here.’

‘I see.’

The door barges open, only to see Sarah. ‘There you two are,’ she says, tying up her robe she wears over her pajamas. ‘You should see the news. They are announcing the new Captain America.’

My heart stops beating for a moment and I look over my shoulder to see Sam. He gets up, puts on some clothes, while I grab some sweats. We all walk into the living room, only to see the boys already sitting in front of the screen.

‘Every day Americans feel it,’ the man on the television says. ‘While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values.’

I watch Sam staring at the screen, as he talks place on the couch. I carefully sit next to him, hoping he is not spooked by my presence.

He isn’t.

‘We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero.’

I don’t know whether Sam is disappointed in himself for believing the shield was gonna be exhibited in the Smithsonian or in the government who betrayed him.

Either way, watching this must be awful.

‘Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.’

The new Captain America. It’s like a punch in the gut. The cheering, the waving of the generic John Walker holding a shield that isn’t his.

I place my hand on his knee and for a split second I fear he is going to swat it away.

But then I feel the warmth of his palm on my hand and he looks to the side. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes say enough.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

He nods. ‘Yeah, me too, Quinn. Me too.’

#sam wilson #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson x quinn #sam wilson x woc ofc #sam wilson x asian ofc #sam wilson x ofc #sam wilson x oc #sam wilson fanfiction #quinn #asian ofc #woc of #anthony mackie x woc ofc #anthony mackie x asian ofc #anthony mackie x oc #anthony mackie x ofc #anthony mackie fandom #anthony mackie fanfiction #anthony mackie #eunoia

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eijispumpkin · 4 years

Text

some musings about yut-lung, inspired by a post i saw on the dash earlier today:

if the story of banana fish were to be reframed with yut-lung as the protagonist, ash would not actually be the primary antagonist of the final arc. eiji would.

why? because yut-lung’s issue was never really with ash. it was with his own lack of happiness after he got his revenge on his brothers. we can see this in episode 24 when he tells sing that his entire life’s purpose was to hate his brothers, and now that they’re gone, he’s empty.

now, obviously, during the beginning of this retelling, none of the characters we really care about from canon would matter. the primary antagonists would be the lee siblings, particularly wang-lung as head of the family. most of yut-lung’s actions in canon are behind the scenes, but in this retelling they would be front-and-center. i’m not gonna linger on that point because i think it’s fairly self-explanatory, but ash and eiji would not really be relevant to yut-lung’s story until after yut-lung’s plans are well underway (i.e. until hua-lung is drugged and has already become his puppet).

so, what is yut-lung’s relationship to ash?

i would posit that he latched onto ash as someone he saw himself in. someone that had been through similar trauma, someone who should have been as broken, unlovable, and unable to heal as himself. (or at least, as he saw himself.) that was the root of his fixation on ash: the belief that if yut-lung himself couldn’t heal and be happy, even after getting his revenge, why should someone else?

and, when we analyze why ash was more capable of healing in the timeframe he did than yut-lung, obviously there’s eiji, but eiji is not the only person to care for ash. there’s shorter, nadia, max, ibe, alex and the other gang members, etc; while ash has had an undeniably hard time, he has also found a support network.

yut-lung has not.

in fact, the whole thing is so foreign to him that he completely discounts the entire network, and decides that ash’s sole support is eiji. now, ash and eiji are definitely important to each other, but it would be remiss to say that eiji is the only person important to ash or the only person to care for him. this is a misinterpretation of ash, caused by yut-lung placing him on a pedestal as “the only one who understands”, so to speak, and it’s why yut-lung fixated so hard on eiji as the obstacle to remove in order to bring ash to his level.

ash’s actions towards yut-lung are not actually antagonistic. ash tells him he’ll kill him one day, but he never tries to actually act on it, or do anything else to hinder yut-lung’s plans in general. frankly, ash doesn’t really give two shits what yut-lung is doing, until ep 20 when yut-lung has eiji, alex, bones, and kong. that is (iirc) the second time ash and yut-lung even see each other after shorter’s death.

now let’s contrast that with eiji.

in episode 9, yut-lung says that eiji really annoys him, because he’s too innocent. he echoes that in episode 14, when he says that people either want to protect eiji, like ash, or they want to “tear him up and destroy him”, and that yut-lung himself is one of the latter. putting his idealization of ash aside for a moment, it’s pretty evident that this hatred is motivated by jealousy (a common theme in yut-lung’s story): why should eiji have had a happy childhood, when yut-lung didn’t?

in fact, that whole conversation in episode 14 is pretty telling. yut-lung tells eiji that he’s stupid for thinking he’s ash’s friend, because “ash has no need for friends [...] all he needs are those who idolize him, and those, like arthur, who defy him. he doesn’t need anyone else. especially not you, who is only a burden to him.”

yut-lung isn’t talking about ash. he thinks he is, but really? he’s talking about himself. or, rather, what he wants himself to be.

in ep24, we see him breaking down because he doesn’t know what his life purpose is without having an enemy. that combined with how he thinks that someone like ash (i.e., someone like himself) “doesn’t need friends”, the fact that the heart of his quest for vengeance is his mother, and his jealousy regarding eiji’s happier childhood, all comes together to suggest to me, at least, that at his core, yut-lung craves companionship, and at the same time desperately wants to deny that he wants it.

this conflict is the crux of his character. yut-lung’s story is ultimately a man-vs-self battle; he has an image of himself that he wants to be (cold, calculating, alone, satisfied), and he’s trying desperately to force himself to fit into that box, but he can’t actually do it. he’s hurting, he’s lonely, and he’s scared, and he lashes out and gets petty, bitter, and vicious.

so how does eiji come in?

eiji is the antithesis of everything yut-lung wants. he’s evidence that ash (i.e. yut-lung’s mirror) can heal and be loved, and yut-lung doesn’t want to see that, because it shatters his worldview that he’s on a path no one else except ash and those like him can walk. he doesn’t want to accept that people like ash (i.e. himself) can need love and support and friendship. eiji threatens to undermine his entire outlook on life.

and how does eiji respond to that?

eiji responds by loving ash harder. by insisting that yut-lung won’t ever understand, but that he will stay by ash’s side. that they understand that they both care for each other. yut-lung kidnaps him after ash is stabbed and reported dead, and eiji refuses to stay put. tries to escape many times, until he finally does.

and when he does, yut-lung says that he’s just decided that he will be ash’s enemy, for as long as eiji is his only weak point. this is just a thinly-veiled attempt to make eiji leave ash, because eiji’s presence threatens yut-lung’s entire delicately-balanced view of himself.

so yut-lung’s plan to get blanca to blackmail ash via eiji? meant to prove that eiji is nothing more than a weakness. really, he has no need to force ash back to golzine--he’s gotten his revenge, he could have done it without golzine’s involvement, he didn’t have to do this--but to him, it’s necessary to prove that he was right all along, that eiji is ash’s weakness and not an asset, that having eiji around was a detriment and he was right.

because if he’s wrong, it means he could have been healing, could have been loved, could have been less alone... and he wasn’t.

so yut-lung decides that ash has to fall back into hell in order to make himself feel secure in his own previously-established patterns of thought. unfortunately for him, eiji brings people together--as eiji is wont to do, like yut-lung said in ep14--to rescue ash, and turns everything on its head again.

this is why he goes to the museum to attempt to dupe golzine. it’s not really about ash. it’s about his view of himself, and the threat to that that eiji poses.

eiji is the real antagonist to yut-lung’s protagonist. ash is someone he puts on a pedestal and sees as a mirror of himself, and while ash is important to his story, eiji is the one who primarily acts in contention to yut-lung. he’s the one who thwarts so many of yut-lung’s plans, who tells him he’s wrong, who tries to stand in his way.

overall, the main villain in yut-lung’s story is his own trauma. he developed many irrational thought patterns as ways to cope with what happened to him while he dealt with it alone, and wound up projecting them onto ash and eiji’s relationship (honestly, in a way blanca did as well, but that’s an essay for another day). however, within the bounds of that projection, eiji shows much more active opposition to him than ash.

#banana fish #banana fish meta #yut-lung lee #GOD this got so long i am Dying #ANYWAY THERES MY 2 CENTS...??????

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domesticmail · 4 years

Text

scrapes

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: fuck if i know lmao

requested: nope!

summary: idk how i’d explain this one. reader is frustrated that the pogues keep treating her like a baby, so she takes things into her own hands, and when she gets hurt, things come to a head in the kitchen of The Chateau

warnings: ANGST. cursing, blood, and ANGST BABY ANGST

a/n: starts quick, gets sad/angry, ends content and kinda happy! also for reference the Pogues are all 17 and the reader is 16 here!! might make this a multiple part fic, who knows !!

Your feet hit the ground, rubber soles slamming against pavement. Broken pieces of road and rubble crunch under your feet. The sound of pebbles cracking under your weight is lost in the commotion of noises, your heart throwing itself against your ribcage, the friction of your hand sliding against a wall, cold air blowing in and out of your lungs.

Splinters embed in your skin as you scramble up the fence, wood cutting into the meat of your thigh. As your body hits the dirt, you swear you can feel the wound opening, blood painting the ground. A ringing fills your ears, but there’s not room in your schedule today to worry about that - you’re on a bit of a time constraint here, if you hadn’t noticed. With that in your mind, the panic of falling behind floods your veins, and you’re up again, sneakers throwing dirt and rocks in your wake as you high-tail it away from your bad decision.

Shouts come from behind you, telling you to stop, but clearly they haven’t gotten the message: you’re not sticking around. You round the corner and haul ass down a few twists and turns before finding your final destination, a friend’s house. You burst through the front entrance and slam it shut, leaning back against the front door, chest heaving.

John B. raises an eyebrow at you. “Woah. Hey, Y/N.”

You don’t respond - you’re busy doing that mental-checklist thing you always do.

Shoes? Ratty old converse, several years old, scuffed on the sides - but they were like that before. Check.

Cut on your leg? Not too big, hurts like a bitch, though. Can be fixed with a towel, rubbing alcohol, and some pressure. Check.

Any other cuts? Some splinters in your palms, yes, but nothing else major. Thank fuck.

A pat of your back pocket reveals that your wallet is still there, secure. Your earrings - still there. Phew. Necklace didn’t break or fall off when you hopped the fence? It’s still dangling around your neck, holy shit. Check.

Aside from the cut and some flecks of dirt dug into the arm you landed on, you’re in remarkably good shape for someone running from hired security.

You shoot a grin at John B., who’s now been joined in his confusion by the rest of the group: Kie and Sarah looking worried, Pope looking exasperated and mildly concerned, and JJ looking very, very confused. Walking past them to the kitchen, you start rooting around for supplies to clean up your leg. Nobody’s said anything yet, and you know why. It’s not common for you to come home like this, out of breath, roughed up a little, bleeding. You can feel them holding their tongues, waiting for you to explain.

The silence stretches into uncomfortable territory. You’re too busy trying to fix your cut to care, really. You know what comes next, anyway - you’ve seen them do it to JJ about a thousand times. The quiet, palpable tension of concern, and then the inevitable eruption.

Just as you expect, as soon as you hop up on the counter and begin your at-home wound treatment, showing no signs of speaking first, everyone explodes at once.

John B. “So no explanation? You’re just gonna walk in here like this is normal?”

Kie. “What the hell, Y/N? We didn’t know where you were! You could’ve died!”

Pope. “That’s a huge cut, what is wrong with you? What were you doing that was so stupid you got a cut like that?”

Sarah. “We were so worried! You weren’t picking up! Are you okay?”

And, of course, JJ. “Who did this to you?”

You’re applying pressure to your leg (fuck, fuck, ow, fuck, shit, bitch, motherfucker no thank you, ow), listening to your friends voice their concerns, when something hits you - JJ thinks someone hurt you?

More importantly, why is JJ so angry about it?

You’d been expecting him to be the least concerned, to give you a high five or a compliment or at least a proud grin, but no, you’re facing anger, frustration, radiating off of him. This is unprecedented - you never thought you guys were close like that.

Don’t get it wrong, you’re close with all the Pogues, just as family as the rest of them - JJ just isn’t really your person. You tend to be glued to Sarah and Kie at the hips, tagging along with them when it’s not a whole-group outing, so their worry makes sense. (You usually tell them everything, like sisters, but a two-day long excursion to do some very reckless shit hadn’t felt like something you should tell them. They’d just try to convince you not to go, and you were having none of that, two mornings ago.) But JJ? If anything, you were each other’s least favorite Pogues. The youngest and maybe the most reckless of the group (excluding Pope), you’re typically the one who reminds JJ of all the stuff that can go wrong with his ideas and schemes. You would think he’d be glad to see you get into a bit of trouble.

But there he is, jaw clenched, those eyes fixed directly on yours. His neck’s gone all tight (you’ve been around him long enough to know that only happens when he’s angry; it’s a little endearing, actually, a little cute), the hand not placed protectively on your knee clenching into a fist laid on the counter. And there’s something in that touch, the way he’s got his hand on your knee - there’s affection there, emotion, something you’ve never felt from JJ before.

All of a sudden, it’s like the greatest hyperfixation in the world is JJ’s hands. They’re not soft, necessarily, not the type of hand you want to hold just because it feels like it’s gentle and kind. Maybe that’s why you’re so drawn to this weird, unexpected touch. You can feel the callouses on his palm pressing into the pink, scraped (oh, you missed a spot in your checklist, your knees look wrecked from that fall over the fence; probably shouldn’t do that again) flesh of your knee, the pads of his fingertips pulling your attention away from the group and to him.

To put it lightly: it’s a very intimate three seconds.

You want to disappear for a second, want to vanish in a puff of smoke and not exist, because the intensity with which he’s looking at you is scary. Not like you’ve done something wrong, but like whoever he thinks did this to you is going to pay, and pay a hefty fee at that.

You don’t like it. Not at all. You would do anything - anything - for him to never look at you like that. Like he’s going to kill someone.

“What - Nobody did this to me, JJ,” you scoff, matching his intense gaze with an annoyed look. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “You’re covering up for them. What did they say they’d do to you? I’ll do worse to them, Y/N, I swear, just tell me who did it.”

You scowl at him, scooting over to move your knee from his hand. This isn’t about you and JJ - this is about you wanting to prove yourself. This is about you showing them you’re not a baby. That you can handle yourself. Not that you need JJ to get all weird and protective over you. “I did this, JJ, back off. I don’t need you to be weird about it.”

The rest of the group has been quiet, but John B. pipes up. “He’s not being weird about anything. We were all worried.”

“I don’t need you guys to be worried about me. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fucking fine, you have a fucking cut on your leg - “

“I’m fine, JJ - “

“If you were okay you wouldn’t be fucking bleeding, Y/N - “

“Will you stop acting like I’m a child for two seconds? Nobody did this, it wasn’t Topper or Rafe or - “

It’s like a lightbulb goes on in JJ’s head. “It was Rafe, wasn’t it? I’ll fucking kill him, he has no right to put his hands on you - “

“JJ, shut the fuck up!”

He looks at you in stunned silence, leaning back a little as though your words had physically struck him.

You’re fuming now, blood running hot. This is exactly why you didn’t tell them your plan - they’d start with this shit. The constant babying. You understand, they’re seventeen, you’re sixteen, you’re younger and they want to protect you, but jesus christ, it’s not like they had some worldly experience - they’re seventeen years old, for fuck’s sake. “Don’t use my actions as a reason for you to go beat up Rafe, JJ. I’m not a fucking excuse for you to get in a fight. I did this for a reason, so how about you leave me alone and let me get to it instead of acting like I’m a fucking child?”

Everyone is silent.

The group looks actually stunned, like they’ve all been sucker-punched. Where the hell did this come from? You’ve never yelled like that. You’ve never yelled, period. You’re never the angry one - you’re the quiet one, the one who would rather be helping at The Wreck or on the HMS Pogue than be at the Boneyard at a kegger.

JJ, after the initial shock, looks even angrier now. He pulls away from you and storms off, running a hand through his blond hair. The sound of his shoes on the hardwood floor echoes through The Chateau, and you sit on the counter quietly, tears filling your eyes.

Not tears of sadness, though. You’re not sad.

You’re fucking angry. At all of them. For bringing you here. For pushing you to this point. For making you feel like a child.

“You treat me like a kid,” you say quietly, but with force, scowling at your tears.

Sarah’s the first to approach, wrapping her arms around you softly. You want to push her away, to refuse the affection, but you don’t. You just accept the distance, reluctantly hugging her, resting your head on her shoulder and just breathing, breathing, breathing. Maybe the tears’ll go away if you just breathe.

Pope is the next, not Kie. (She’s still surprised that you yelled. The indignation of being yelled at is fading, her initial annoyance becoming gentle concern.) He envelops you and Sarah.

Kie joins next, and then John B., and it’s when you feel his hand on your back that your breathing, breathing, breathing, becomes choked sob after choked sob, cries wracking your body into Sarah’s shoulder. You feel like you’re breaking down into them all, like the anger is pouring out of you like a waterfall, just gushing and gushing and gushing. It’s so frustrating, so difficult, so annoying, you just can’t deal with it anymore.

You don’t know how long you’ve been crying when your sobs recede their way to gentle hiccups. Your face is dry from the tears, and when everyone pulls away, you see tears in Sarah’s eyes. She offers you a weak smile, one you return.

There’s a conversation then, right there in the kitchen. It’s not one full of anger, or sadness, or anything especially negative. It’s just tired. The words float out of your mouth - “I’m sorry” - and it’s like you’re disconnected from yourself. It lasts maybe twenty minutes, apologizing from all ends, promises to do better, and at the end, you feel so full of love that you’re nearly bursting at the seams. We’re family, we love each other, you could’ve just told us if we were being frustrating, reassurances floating their way through your head like water, pushing out all the anger.

You don’t know how you ended up on the hammock with the rest of the group - excluding JJ - one arm thrown across John B., snuggled in with Pope, legs resting on Sarah and Kie’s, who are laying together the opposite way. The warmth of the sun on your arms and your friends around you is lulling you to sleep slowly, the hammock swinging gently from side to side.

You know you’re going to have to talk to JJ.

But you’re falling asleep now, and you’re losing your train of thought quickly, words floating into oblivion.

You’ll talk to JJ tomorrow.

For now, you’re going to sleep.

#obx #obx x reader #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #jj maybank #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #john b routledge #pope heyward #that's right babes this is ANGST #she's ANGRY #young!reader

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youtiaoshutiao · 4 years

Note

i just finished "the romance of tiger and rose" and i have nothing to watch now :( do you have any cdrama recs?

hello!!!! sorry i got to this a week late my tumblr is like... neglected currently

anyway i’m so glad u enjoyed tiger and rose!!! i love it so much too :D for cdrama recs, omg it really depends on what u’re looking for!!!! i find it so hard to narrow down dramas that are my faves to recommend because i actually watch very little HAHA and i only watch to completion dramas that i really like anyway xD anyway i’ll just list a few that i’ve watched recently (meaning like... from mid 2019 till now) and really enjoyed!!!

period dramas:

- joy of life 庆余年 (2019): hard to describe this tonally because it’s v irreverant and hilarious yet moving and deep and suspenseful?! the first 15 episodes are fun and enjoyable but i think i really really truly got into it after that and became invested 100%. in my eyes it felt like a fervent love poem to life and the human condition especially towards the end. the characters are all very fascinating and there’s a lot of twisty plot twists. excellent acting and script writing. only caveat is that it’s the first season out of a planned 3 season series so it ends on a cliffhanger, and the female lead doesn’t really have as much agency compared to the other supporting female characters (mainly due to her circumstances and the role she plays i guess).

- young blood 大宋少年志 (2019): YOOO THIS is a huge lovelovelove for me, you have the most lovable squad consisting of 6 very different and generally lonely teenagers who get roped into this secret services thing where they deal with top secret government plots and stuff. and they start off all on the wrong foot and grow to LOVE EACH OTHER and RELY ON EACH OTHER and HAVE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. *sobs just thinking about it* has many supporting characters that are interesting and whom u also get invested in. It’s an original script written by Wang Juan 王倦 who also wrote the joy of life script, except young blood is 100% original and not adapted from a webnovel! just like tiger and rose’s script, which is also an original script written by Nan Zhen. this is SUPER SUPER rare nowadays in cdramaland which is why i stan these 2 dramas so hard hahaha. caveat: young blood also ends on a kind of cliffhanger/open ending, but it still felt like the arcs that the entire series covered in terms of character development were well completed so i was okay with it. plus there are lots of hints that there’s also gonna be a season 2, though I think Wang Juan is still writing the script for that.

- under the power 锦衣之下 (2019/2020): this is the drama that tiger and rose is sometimes compared to in terms of how it became so popular unexpectedly. i would wholeheartedly recommend this 100% solely for the OTP which is a Tsundere Embroidered Uniform Guard (Ming-dynasty secret police) ML x Bubbly/talkative/street smart Constable FL. they are SUPER SUPER cute and the leads (who are both my faves) play them super well and their romantic development is presented really organically. the outfits esp the male lead’s are A+++ also and make him look super super hot. i like the OST too. however everything else is quite mediocre lol especially the special effects and the meandering sideplots and there was a whole plot arc that didn’t really make much sense because a lot was edited out because of censorship. STILL VERY ADDICTIVE THO

- the story of ming lan 知否知否应是绿肥红瘦 (2018/2019): a very long drama (but quite normal by cdrama standards lol) basically about the ~journey~ and ~growth~ of our protagonist minglan, unfavoured daughter of a concubine of a relatively high ranking civil servant. it’s a very different vibe to a lot of other cdramas in that it’s very slice-of-life and slow paced, but i think it’s fascinating how it showcases how women deal and work with the internal dynamics of a household in a patriarchal society, and how that affects societal and political affairs as well. her OTP with an unfavoured son from another family (lol) is also very very delicious as it’s basically 2 people who have gone thru a lot of Trauma as children treasuring each other/learning that they too are treasured by the other and them building their own family and household against all odds and evil family members. it’s v long and slow paced as i mentioned earlier but it’s very very rewarding!! and i think many of my tumblr mutuals would agree it’s quite a favourite :D

modern dramas:

(i’ll admit that i’ve only had the brainspace the past 1 year for fluffy brainless modern dramas so all these are just for the FLUFF)

- skate into love 冰糖炖雪梨 (2020): uni drama where the FL re-picks up her true love speed skating after abandoning it for Reasons and gets back into it competitively. her OTP is her primary school deskmate who is an ice hockey player. the otp is very very fun!! the ML has a lot of resentment towards FL initially because FL was quite the bully in primary school but i really like how they resolved it and eventually the ML falls first and falls Really Really Hard and it is Delicious. the career aspects was quite well done also and i really rooted for the FL to rediscover her passion and pick it up again, and also for the ML to become better at his craft. caveat: i actually still have 10 episodes to go as i stalled because i know there’s a couple of episodes coming up that are going to be frustrating because of typical Misunderstanding and Miscommunication blablabla. but that’s pretty common lolol and overall it’s still a cute watch.

- the 致我们 series consisting of 3 dramas :

1) a love so beautiful 致我们单纯的小美好 (2017): high school drama basically tsundere male lead x bubbly female lead, they’ve been classmates since young and are next door neighbours, female lead has a crush on him since forever

2) put your head on my shoulder 致我们暖暖的小时光 (2019): set in uni, female lead’s doing an internship far from her school, male lead is a physics student and his parents have a flat for him that is near female lead’s internship place, BAM THEY ARE FLATMATES!

3) the love equations 致我们甜甜的小美满 (2020): uni drama, female lead is a chinese language major who loves writing forensic novels online, male lead is a forensic science major.

all 3 are really cute lolol. i put these 3 because i just watched the third one two months ago and i feel like i have to mention it in the context of the first 2 haha. the first 2 were definitely hits both domestically and internationally. i feel the 3rd one kind of flopped? in terms of reception compared to the first 2 and a lot of my drama mutuals couldn’t get into it, and i can understand why because it did feel more unpolished? in terms of directorial choices/the editing/the acting/the script. but i still somehow really loved it for some reason, i think some parts of the ML’s life esp his relationship with his mum really resonated with me, and i loved FL and her friendships with her dormmates so so so so much. so i really rooted for the OTP. i think objectively in terms of quality i would rate them 2 > 1 > 3, but in terms of feels... i loved them all. and it’s all just pure fluff anyway at the end of the day HAHA.

ok i’m running out of time writing this hehe but also a quick shoutout to my 2 favourite youth/high school dramas forever - With You 最好的我们 (2015) and My Huckleberry Friends 你好旧时光 (2017) which are sister dramas/set in the same universe and imo, are the pinnacle of youth dramas and what it means to capture the anxieties/stresses/mundane joys/pain/beauty of the Chinese/Asian high school experience.

there are many others from before 2019 that i watched and enjoyed but i didn’t put them in hehe. and i’m sorry HAHA i actually don’t have much trust in my own taste LOL but i hope it helps!!

ohhhh and i’ve been trying to avoid starting on new dramas because of Exam Prep but there’s been SO MANY airing lately that i’ve been interested in:

The Bad Kids 隐秘的角落: apparently super well done suspense/thriller drama that’s receiving rave reviews everywhere!!

Love A Lifetime 暮白首: an original wuxia starring ren jialun (ML in under the power) whom i love so much and zhang huiwen

My Girl 99分女朋友: this is a modern day cdrama written by nan zhen!!! (who wrote tiger and rose) so i think it might be worth checking out :))

#recs #cdrama #joy of life #young blood #the story of Ming Lan #under the power #skate into love #a love so beautiful #Put Your Head On My Shoulder #the love equations #with you #my huckleberry friends #the bad kids #love a lifetime #my girl #mine #drama watching #replies

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foreverfallingforthestars · 3 years

Text

A Vampire for Christmas

🎄Day 8 of 12 Days of PJO Christmas🎄

Honestly, Annabeth was surprised that this hadn’t happened earlier. It had been a few years since she had stopped spending Christmas at camp and would instead be spending it at the Jackson’s apartment — or on the occasional times, with her family in San Francisco.

Considering they were two of the most powerful demi-gods of the current generation, Annabeth had expected a monster attack on Christmas to happen much, much earlier.

PSA: These drabbles are canon-compliant till HoO and just acknowledge the existence of Estelle. Also technology use is a thing.

Read on AO3

~~~~~

Either way, Percy was always a constant.

Considering they were two of the most powerful demi-gods of the current generation, Annabeth had expected a monster attack on Christmas to happen much, much earlier. At first, she and Percy hadn’t even noticed that anything was wrong because they were enjoying a pleasant dinner at Percy's family's apartment, and she had momentarily forgot that there was anything special about her and Percy anyways. They were just two almost-adults spending Christmas with their families and enjoying themselves.

It was a special Christmas dinner because Annabeth's family had come up to visit New York, and the last that they would spend at the apartment while Percy was still living there. Since they were graduating from university in May, they planned to move back to New York and get an apartment of their own in the city with the financial assistance of Annabeth’s family.

Just for the occasion, Sally had gone all out with the decorations for the apartment; she and Paul had decorated a six-foot tall Christmas tree complete with tinsel, ornaments, twinkle lights, and presents underneath the tree, and they had put up a green garland around the balcony doors.

At first everything was going fine as they were chatting happily as they made their way through dinner. Annabeth had never been more happy to take up Percy on his idea to reach back out to her father and patch up her relationship with him as she was in the moment. She had a decent relationship with her step-brothers, despite the lingering tension between her and her step-mother that they both tried to ignore as much as possible (honestly, as long as they weren’t alone together, it was fine).

She had gotten up from the dining table to grab a few more cans of soda from the refrigerator and was in the kitchen when an IM came through, scaring her half to death.

“Annabeth! Thank gods!” came Chiron’s voice through the mist. Jumping in her place, Annabeth shrieked slightly and dropped a can of soda. She whipped her head around, heart beating out of her chest as she looked into the mist only to find him looking slightly panicked.

“Chiron? You scared me!” she gasped, a hand coming to rest on her chest. From the living room she heard a scuffle of chairs being moved and quick footsteps. She turned to see Percy gripping Riptide, still in its pen form, as he ran into the kitchen. His eyes were worried, glancing all over the kitchen to make sure there was nothing immediately wrong.

“Are you okay?” he asked, immediately moving to her. Annabeth nodded mutely, simply pointing to the mist that he clearly hadn’t seen yet. When he looked up, he squinted at the image of Chiron’s worried expression. The centaur had furrowed brows, and he looked like he was about to deliver some very bad news.

“Merry Christmas, Chiron,” Percy spoke up, “but I’m guessing that’s not why you are messaging us.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right. I’m sorry to disturb your Christmas night, but we just received word from one of the satyrs that was sent to pick up a demi-god, but they got attacked on the way there. They’re hiding, but I told Francis to try to make it as close as possible to your apartment, Percy.”

“I’ll get our jackets, Perce,” Annabeth softly said, gripping his forearm, and he nodded.

“Got it,” he responded, immediately moving back to the living room, presumably going to tell his family that they had to leave now.

“We’ll get there soon, Chiron,” Annabeth promised as she waved a hand through the mist, ending the IM.

She put the cans of soda away quickly before jogging straight from the kitchen to Percy’s bedroom where she grabbed their jackets and her sword before meeting Percy by the open door. Sally and Frederick were standing in the hallway as well, and they both sent them small smiles.

“Stay safe,” Frederick called out, and Annabeth managed to give them a smile of her own in response.

Annabeth felt a pang of sadness in her heart for their parents who had to watch their children willingly walk into dangerous situations that they might not walk out from, and she admired their courage to even let her and Percy leave the house.

Percy shrugged on his jacket quickly and moved Riptide into the jacket pocket for easy access as Annabeth shrugged on hers as well, and within minutes they were making their way out of the building, glancing around for any signs of a monster or struggle to locate the demi-god and Francis, the satyr. He was one of the newer satyrs that had joined working for the camp so Annabeth had only met him once or twice, but he was insanely sweet and fiercely strong, so she had no doubt that he would get them to the apartment from where Percy could hopefully drive them to Camp.

“Hey, I’ll check behind the alley. You should stay here,” Percy called out.

“Alright, stay safe,” she responded. He nodded and ran off, and she watched him till she saw him disappear behind the building. She trained her eyes to the main road, watching carefully. There was nothing out of ordinary, and despite the fact that it was Christmas evening, there were a decent amount of people out and about.

It was also ridiculously cold, and she was just thankful for the small mercy that was the lack of snow.

Annabeth put her back to the building to make sure that she wouldn’t be jumped from the back and stayed painfully aware of her surroundings, focusing on the cold to help her focus instead of worrying about Percy. He was more than capable of taking care of himself.

In the end, it was a good thing to put her back up against the wall because suddenly she heard a cry coming from her left, and she quickly turned only to duck, squatting towards the ground because an empousa had launched herself at Annabeth.

The empousa landed on all fours behind Annabeth, and she quickly looked around her. It seemed like it was just the sole empousa with her at the moment, but Annabeth knew better than to let her guard down because they rarely hunted in groups.

Which meant the others were after Percy.

Shaking her head slightly to get the worries about Percy out of her mind, she focused on the empousa in front of her. She was in her true form, complete with the flaming hair, milky white skin, the fangs that she was currently baring at Annabeth, red eyes that were glowing, and her mismatching Celestial Bronze and donkey legs with wings.

Ever since Kelli, Annabeth had a certain hatred for empousai, but ever since Tartarus, that hatred had become more deep-rooted.

“Annabeth Chase,” the empousa hissed. “How nice of you to show up.”

Annabeth simply rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You do realize it’s Christmas and not Halloween, right? Not the right day for a vampire to show up.”

“I’m not a vampire!”

“Close enough,” Annabeth responded, waving her hand in the air.

“Mind telling me where that precious young demi-god is? I’d like to eat for him as an appetizer before I sink my fangs into that boyfriend of yours.”

“Oh so you’re telling me that you’re alone right now and that there’s not another one of you currently going after them?” Annabeth asked in a sickly sweet fake voice.

The empousa hissed again as a response, and Annabeth reined in a sigh. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with them. She spent three years in therapy trying to work through her PTSD after Tartarus and a lot of that involved dealing with empousas again. She was sick of thinking about them and letting them ruin her life. Instead of letting the monster speak, Annabeth lunged with her sword, but the empousa was fast and evaded her. The sword glanced off of the monster’s arm, and Annabeth immediately turned back to face the empousa.

“I’m going to enjoy snapping your neck,” the empousa hissed. Annabeth didn’t bother to respond, instead moving to attack again, but stopping at the last second to grab the empousa’s attention long enough to force her to chase Annabeth. Annabeth needed to make sure that she could distract the empousa long enough for Percy and Francis to deal with the others, however many they were, until she could deal with this one on her own.

Sure enough, the empousa was running after her, and Annabeth ran along the block, trying to dodge people in her way. The empousa was insanely fast, and she had even nearly grabbed only Annabeth’s jacket a few times. Within a minute, Annabeth saw her chance and ran into an empty alleyway, and quickly faced the entrance and moved her back against the building, trying to avoid backing herself too far in and blocking any way out.

The empousa just lunged for Annabeth, and she lunged out with her sword, forced herself to extend her arm enough while balancing her weight on the center of her feet to make sure she could push off the empousa while also slashing her in the chest.

The monster backed away with a hiss, and in the moment that she was distracted, looking down at the tear in the shirt the empousa was wearing, Annabeth shot out, stabbing her in the shoulder and slashing diagonally, cutting from her right shoulder down to the left side of her waist.

Within seconds, the monster was dust, and Annabeth leaned over, bracing her hands on her knees, breathing heavily.

She knew that Percy would be looking for her, but she really needed to catch a quick breather, so she tilted her head back against the brick wall, looking up at the darkened sky.

Gods, she couldn’t even get a break on Christmas. She supposed she should get used to this if she was going to be living in the city starting from May.

She jogged her way over to the apartment building, only to find herself stopping when she saw Paul’s Prius at the side of the road.

“Annabeth!” she heard Percy’s voice call out. “Hurry!” She looked behind the car and saw a few more empousai running towards them, and she cursed, running to the car and scrambling to get into the passenger seat. Percy had already stepped on the accelerator, pulling away from the apartment building before she had even buckled up.

“How’d you get so far away?” he asked, panting.

“Had to run to distract one of them. Killed her in an alley.”

“I killed one too and then four more came after us.” It was then that Annabeth looked in the backseat, finding herself looking at a young boy who looked about fifteen with Francis. Francis saw her looking and sent her a shaky smile.

Annabeth huffed out a laugh, only realizing just how dumb she must’ve looked running away from a girl on Christmas.

“What’s up?” Percy asked, glancing at her briefly.

“Our lives from now on are just going to be dealing with monsters on Christmas.”

It seemed like Percy hadn’t thought of that just then because his face crumpled.

“Oh no.”

~~~~~

Are any of these good? Idk but I kinda like writing them

Day 1 || Day 2 || Day 3 || Day 4 || Day 5 || Day 6 || Day 7

#pjo #pjo fic #percabeth #percabeth fic #monster attack #Christmas #12 days of pjo christmas #percy jackson #annabeth

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96harmony96 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 16

Lauren folded over me, her hair falling forward to tickle my chest, her lungs heaving. “God. I can’t go days without this. Even the hours at work are too long.”

I ran my fingers through the sweat-damp roots of her hair. “I missed you, too.”

she nuzzled my breasts. “When you’re not with me, I feel—Don’t run anymore, Camila. I can’t take it.”

she pulled me up to stand in front of her, keeping her cock in me until the soles of my heels touched the hardwood floor. “Come home with me now.”

“I can’t leave Cary.”

“Then we’ll drag him out of here with us. Shh…Before you complain, whatever he hopes to get out of this party, I can make happen. Being here accomplishes nothing.”

“Maybe he’s having fun.”

“I don’t want you here.” she suddenly seemed distant, her tone far too controlled.

“Do you know how badly it hurts me when you say that?” I cried softly, my chest tight with the pain of it. “What’s wrong with me that you don’t want me around your family?”

“Angel, no.” she hugged me, her hands roaming my back in soothing caresses. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s this place. I don’t—I can’t be here. You want to know what’s in my dreams? It’s this house.”

“Oh.” My stomach knotted with worry and confusion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Something in my voice lured her to press a kiss between my eyebrows. “I’ve been rough with you today. I’m sorry. I’m edgy and agitated being here, but that’s no excuse.”

I cupped her face and stared into her eyes, seeing the tumultuous emotions she was so used to hiding. “Don’t ever apologize for being yourself with me. It’s what I want. I want to be your safe place, Lauren.”

“You are. You don’t know how much, but I’ll find a way to tell you.” she rested her forehead against mine. “Let’s go home. I bought some things for you.”

“Oh? I love gifts.” Especially when they came from my self-professed unromantic girlfriend.

Cautiously, she began to pull out of me. I was shocked to feel how wet I was, how copiously she’d come. The final few inches of her cock slid out in a rush and semen slicked my inner thighs. A moment later, two audacious droplets fell to the hardwood floor between my spread legs.

“Oh, shit.” she groaned. “That’s so damn hot. I’m getting hard again.”

I stared at the brazen display of her virility and felt warm. “You can’t go again after that.”

“Hell if I can’t.” Cupping my sex in her hand, she rubbed the slickness all over me, coating the outer lips and massaging it into the folds. Euphoria spread through me like the warmth of fine liquor, a sense of contentment that came solely from the knowledge that Lauren found gratification in me and my body.

“I’m an animal with you,” she murmured. “I want to mark you. I want to possess you so completely there’s no separation between us.”

My hips began to move in tiny circles as her words and touch reignited the desire she’d goaded with the thrusts of her cock. I wanted to come again, knew I’d be miserable if I had to wait until we reached her bed. I was a sexual creature with her, too, so physically attuned to her and so positive that she would never physically hurt me, that I was…free.

I encircled her wrist with my fingers and gently directed her hand around my hip to reach for me from behind. Nipping her jaw with my teeth, I gathered the courage she inspired in me and whispered, “Touch me here with your fingers. Mark me there.”

she froze, her chest lifting and falling rapidly. “I don’t”—her voice strengthened—“I don’t do anal play, Camila.”

Looking into her eyes, I saw something dark and volatile. Something very painful.

Of all the things for us to have in common…

The raw passion of our lust gentled into the warm familiarity of love. With my heart breaking, I confessed, “I don’t either. At least not voluntarily.”

“Then…why?” The confusion in her voice moved me deeply.

I hugged her, pressing my cheek to her shoulder and listening to the slightly panicked beat of her heart. “Because I believe your touch can erase Nathan’s.”

“Oh, Camila.” Her cheek pressed to the crown of my head.

I snuggled closer. “You make me feel safe.”

We held each other for long moments. I listened to her heartbeat slow and her breathing smooth out. I inhaled deeply, relishing the mix of her personal scent mixed with the scent of hard lust and harder sex.

When the tip of her middle finger slid gossamer-soft over the pucker of my anus, I stilled and pulled back to look at her. “Lauren?”

“Why me?” she asked softly, her beautiful eyes dark and stormy. “You know I’m fucked up, Camile. You saw what I…that night you woke me…You saw, damn it. How can you trust me with your body this way?”

“I trust my heart and what it tells me.” I smoothed the frown line between her brows. “You can give my body back to me, Lauren. I believe you’re the only one who can.”

Her eyes closed and her damp forehead touched mine. “Do you have a safeword, Eva?”

Startled, I pulled back again to study her face. A few members of my therapy group had talked about Dom/sub relationships. Some required total control to feel safe during sex. Others fell on the opposite side of the line, finding that bondage and humiliation satisfied their deep-seated need to feel pain to experience pleasure. For those who practiced that lifestyle, a safeword was an unambiguous way to say “stop.” But I couldn’t see how that had any relevance to me and Lauren. “Do you?”

“I don’t need one.” Between my legs, the gentle stroke of her finger became less tentative. she repeated his question, “Do you have a safeword?”

“No. I’ve never needed one. Missionary, doggy style, B.O.B…. that’s about the extent of my mad skills in the sack.”

That brought a touch of amusement to her otherwise severe face. “Thank God. I wouldn’t survive you otherwise.”

And still that fingertip massaged me, spurring a dark yearning. Lauren could do that to me, make me forget everything that happened before. I had no negative sexual triggers with her, no hesitation or fears. she’d given that to me. In return, I wanted to give her the body he’d freed from my past.

The long case clock near the door began to chime the hour.

“Laurenn, we’ve been gone a long time. Someone will come looking for us.”

she put the slightest pressure against my sensitive rosette, barely pressing. “Do you really care if they do?”

My hips arched into the touch. Anticipation was making me hot all over again. “I don’t care about anything but you when you’re touching me.”

Her free hand lifted to my hair and held it at the roots, keeping my head still. “Did you ever enjoy anal play? Accidentally or by deliberation?”

“No.”

“And yet you trust me enough to ask me for this.” she kissed my forehead as she drew the slickness of his semen back to my rear.

I gripped his waistband. “You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” Her voice had that wickedly assertive bite to it. “If you crave something, I’ll be the one to give it to you. All of your needs, Camila, are mine to fulfill. Whatever it costs me.”

“Thank you, Lauren.” My hips shifted restlessly as she continued to lubricate me gently. “I want to be what you need, too.”

“I’ve told you what I need, Camila—control.” she brushed her parted lips back and forth over mine. “You’re asking me to lead you back into painful places and I will, if that’s what you need. But we have to be extremely careful.”

“I know.”

“Trust is hard for both of us. If we break it, we could lose everything. Think of a word you associate with power. Your safeword, angel. Choose it.”

The pressure of that single fingertip became more insistent. I moaned, “Crossfire.”

“Umm…I like it. Very fitting.” Her tongue dipped into my mouth, barely touching mine before retreating. Her finger rimmed my anus over and over, pushing her semen into the puckered hole, a soft growl escaping her as it flexed in a silent plea for more.

The next time she pressed against the ring, I pushed out and she slipped her fingertip inside me. The feeling of penetration was shockingly intense.

Just as before, surrender weighted my body, leaving me languid.

“Are you okay?” Lauren asked harshly as I sagged against her. “Should I stop?”

“No…Don’t stop.”

she pushed fractionally deeper and I clenched around her, a helpless reaction to the feel of something gliding across tender tissues. “You’re snug and scorching hot,” she murmured. “And so soft. Does it hurt?”

“No. Please. More.”

Lauren withdrew to her fingertip; then slid in to the knuckle, slow and easy. I quivered in delight, astonished by how good it felt, that teasing bit of fullness in my rear.

“How’s that?” she asked hoarsely.

“Good. Everything you do to me feels good.”

she withdrew again, glided deep again. Leaning forward, I thrust my hips back to give her easier access and pressed my breasts against her chest. Her fist in my hair tightened, pulling my head back so she could take my mouth in a lush, wet kiss. Our open mouths slid across each other, growing more frantic as my arousal built. The feel of Lauren’s finger in that darkly sexual place, thrusting in that gentle rhythm, had me rocking backward to meet her inward drives.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice infinitely gentle. “I love making you feel good. Love watching an orgasm move through your body.”

“Lauren.” I was lost, drowning in the powerful joy of being held by her, loved by her. Four days alone had taught me how miserable I’d be if we couldn’t work things out, how dull and colorless my world would be without her in it. “I need you.”

“I know.” she licked across my lips, making my head spin. “I’m here. Your cunt’s trembling and tightening. You’re going to come for me again.”

With shaking hands, I reached between us for her cock, finding it hard. I lifted the layers of my underskirts so I could insert her into my drenched sex. she slid in a few inches, our standing positions preventing deeper penetration, but the connection alone was enough. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, burying my face in her neck as my knees weakened. Her hand left my hair, her arm clasping my back and holding me close.

“Camila.” The tempo of her finger thrusts quickened. “Do you know what you do to me?”

Her hips nudged against mine, the wide crest of her penis massaging a sweetly tender spot. “You’re milking the head of my dick with those hungry little squeezes. You’re going to make me come for you. When you go off, I’m going with you.”

I was distantly aware of the helpless noises spilling from my throat. My senses were overloaded by Lauren’s scent and the heat of her hard body, the feel of her cock rubbing inside me and her finger pumping into my rear. I was surrounded by her, filled with her, blissfully possessed in every way. A climax was building in force, pounding through me, pooling in my core. Not just from the physical pleasure but from the knowledge that she’d been willing to take a risk. Once again. For me.

Her finger stilled and I made a sound of protest.

hush,” she whispered. “Someone’s coming.”

“Oh God! Magdalene came in earlier and saw us. What if she told—”

“Don’t move.” Lauren didn’t let me go. she stood just as she was, filling me front and back, her hand caressing the length of my spine and smoothing my dress down. “Your skirts hide everything.”

With my back to the room’s entrance, I pressed my flaming face into her shirt.

The door opened. There was a pause then, “Is everything all right?”

Christopher. I felt awkward being unable to turn around.

“Of course,” Lauren said smoothly, coolly in control. “What do you want?”

To my horror, she resumed the push and withdrawal of her finger. Not with the deep strokes of before, but slow shallow thrusts that didn’t disturb my skirts. Already aroused to a fever pitch and hovering on the verge of orgasm, my nails dug into her neck. The tension in my body from having Christopher in the room only ramped up the erotic sensations.

“Camila?” Christopher asked.

I swallowed hard. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

Lauren adjusted her stance, which moved her cock inside me and bumped her pelvis against my pulsing clit.

“Y-yes. We’re just…talking. About. Dinner.” My eyes closed as Lauren’s fingertip grazed the thin wall separating her penis from her touch. If she nudged my clit again, I’d come. I was too wound up to stop it.

Lauren’s chest vibrated against my cheek as she spoke. “We’d be done sooner if you’d go, so tell me what you need.”

“Mom’s looking for you.”

“Why?” Lauren shifted again, rocking into my clit at the same moment she gave a quick, deep thrust of her finger into my rear.

I climaxed. Afraid of the wail of pleasure that wanted out of me, I sank my teeth into Lauren’s hard chest. she grunted softly and started coming, her cock jerking as it pumped thick spurts of scorching semen into me.

The rest of the conversation was lost beneath the roar of my blood. Christopher said something, Lauren replied, and then the door shut again. I was lifted to sit on the armrest and Lauren started thrusting between my spread thighs, using my body to rub out the rest of her orgasm, growling in my mouth as we finished off the rawest, most exhibitionistic sexual encounter of my life.

____

Afterward, Lauren led me by the hand to a bathroom, where she lightly soaped a washcloth and cleansed between my legs befores he paid the same attention to her cock. The way she took care of me was sweetly intimate, demonstrating yet again that as primal as her desire for me was, I was precious to her.

“I don’t want us to fight anymore,” I said quietly from my perch on the counter.

she tossed the washcloth down a concealed laundry chute and refastened her fly. Then she came to me, brushing her cool fingertips down my cheek. “We don’t fight, angel. We just have to learn not to scare the hell out of each other.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I grumbled. To call either of us virgins would be ridiculous, yet emotionally that’s just what we were. Fumbling in the dark and too eager, completely out of our depths and self-conscious, trying to impress and missing all the subtle nuances.

“Easy or hard, doesn’t matter. We’ll get through this because we have to.” she pushed her fingers through my hair, restoring order to the disheveled strands. “We’ll discuss when we get home. I think I’ve discovered the crux of our problem.”

Her conviction and determination soothed the restlessness I’d been feeling the last few days. Closing my eyes, I relaxed and enjoyed the tactile delight of having my hair played with. “Your mother seemed startled that I’m a brunette .”

“Did she?”

“My mother was, too. Not about me being a brunette,” I qualified. “That you’d be interested in one.”

“Was she?”

“Lauren!”

“Hmm?” she kissed the end of my nose and ran her hands down my arms.

“I’m not the type you usually go for, am I?”

Her brow arched. “I have one type: Camila cabello. That’s it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay. Whatever.”

“What does it matter? You’re the woman I’m with.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just curious. People don’t usually stray from their preferred type.”

Stepping between my legs, she put her arms around my hips. “Lucky for me that I fit your type.”

“Lauren, you don’t fit any type,” I drawled. “You’re in a class by yourself.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Like what you see, do you?”

“You know I do, which is why we really should get out of here before we start screwing like minks again.”

Pressing her cheek to mine, she murmured, “Only you could blow my mind in a place that’s always made my skin crawl. Thank you for being exactly what I want and need.”

“Oh, Lauren.” I wrapped my arms and legs around her, holding her as close to me as possible. “You came here for me, didn’t you? To take me away from this place you hate.”

“I’d walk into hell for you, Camila, and this is pretty damn close.” she exhaled harshly. “I was about to go to your apartment and drag you away with me when I learned you’d come here. You have to stay away from Christopher.”

“Why do you keep saying that? He seems very nice.”

Lauren pulled back, sifting my hair through her fingers. Her eyes stayed fiercely locked to mine. “He takes sibling rivalry to the extreme, and he’s unstable enough to make him dangerous. He’s reaching out to you because he knows he can hurt me through you. You have to trust me on this.”

Why was lauren so suspicious of her half-brother’s motives? she had to have a good reason. It was yet another thing she didn’t fully share with me. “I do trust you. Of course I do. I’ll keep my distance.”

“Thank you.” Catching me by the waist, she lifted me off the counter and set me on my feet. “Let’s grab Cary and get the hell out of here.”

We made our way back outside with my hand in her. I was uncomfortably aware that we’d been gone a very long time. The sun was going down. And I was panty-less. My ruined boy shorts were presently stuffed into the front pocket of Lauren’s jeans.

she glanced at me as we entered the marquee. “I should’ve told you before. You look gorgeous, Camila. That dress is amazing on you and so are those fuck-me red heels.”

“Well, clearly they work.” I bumped my shoulder into her. “Thank you.”

“For the compliment? Or the fucking?”

“Hush,” I admonished, flushing.

Her dark velvet laugh turned every female head in hearing distance and some of the men’s, too. Placing our linked hands at the small of my back, she pulled me close and smacked a kiss on my mouth.

“Lauren!” Her mother glided toward us with sparkling eyes and a wide smile on her lovely face. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

She looked like she might hug her, but her posture altered subtly, charging the air around him with an invisible field of power that encompassed me as well.

Elizabeth drew to an abrupt halt.

“Mother,” her greeted her with all the warmth of an arctic storm. “You can thank Camila for my being here. I’ve come to take her away.”

“But she’s having a good time, aren’t you, Camila? You should stay for her sake.” Elizabeth looked at me with a plea in her eyes.

My fingers flexed around Lauren’s hand. she came first, that was never in question, but I couldn’t help but wish I knew the story behind her coldness toward a mother who seemed to love her. Her adoring gaze slid over the face that had shades of her own, drinking in every feature hungrily. How long had it been since the last time she’d seen her in person?

Then I wondered if maybe she’d loved her too much…

Revulsion made my spine stiffen.

“Don’t put camila on the spot,” lauren said, rubbing her knuckles against my tense back. “You’ve gotten what you wanted—you’ve met her.”

“Perhaps you’ll both come to dinner later this week?”

Her only answer was an arched brow. Then her gaze lifted, luring my attention to follow it. I found Cary emerging from what appeared to be a hedgerow maze with a very recognizable pop princess on his arm. Lauren gestured him over.

“Oh, not Cary, too!” Elizabeth protested. “He’s the life of the party.”

“I thought you might like him.” Lauren bared her teeth in something that was too sharp to be a smile. “Just remember that he’s camila’s friend, Mother. That makes him mine as well.”

I was hugely relieved when Cary joined us, breaking the tension in his easygoing way.

“I was looking for you,” he said to me. “I was hoping you’d be ready to go. I got that call I was expecting.”

Looking into his sparkling eyes, I knew Trey had reached him. “Yes, we’re ready.”

Cary and I walked around to say our good-byes and offer our thanks. Lauren remained at my side like a possessive shadow, her demeanor calm but markedly aloof.

We were all walking toward the house when I spotted Ireland off to the side staring at Lauren. I stopped and looked up at her. “Go get your sister so we can say good-bye.”

“What?”

“She’s standing to your left.” I looked to our right to hide my prodding from the young girl whom I suspected might hero-worship her eldest sister.

SHe gestured Ireland over with a brusque wave of her hand. She took her time ambling over, her pretty face schooled into an expression of militant boredom. I looked at Cary with a shake of my head, remembering those days all too well.

“Listen.” I squeezed lauren’s wrist. “Tell her you’re sorry you two didn’t get to catch up while you were here and she should call you sometime, if she wants.”

Lauren shot me an arch look. “Catch up on what?”

Rubbing her biceps, I said, “She’ll do all the talking if given a chance.”

SHe scowled. “She’s a teenage girl. Why would I give her a chance to talk my ear off?”

I pushed onto my tiptoes and whispered in her ear, “Because I’ll owe you one.”

“You’re up to something.” SHe eyed me warily for a moment; then pressed a hard kiss to my lips with a growl. “So we’ll leave it open and say you owe me more than one. Quantity to be determined.”

I nodded. Cary rocked back on his heels and twirled one index finger around another in a sign meaning wrapped around your finger.

Only fair, I thought, since she was wrapped around my heart.

I was surprised when Lauren accepted the keys to the Bentley SUV from one of the valets. “You drove? Where’s Angus?”

“Day off.” she nuzzled against my temple. “I missed you, Camila.”

I settled into the front passenger seat, and she shut the door behind me. As I secured my seat belt, I saw her pause by the hood, making eye contact with two men dressed in black who waited beside a sleek black Mercedes sedan at the end of the drive. They nodded and got in the Benz. When Lauren pulled out of the Vidal driveway, they followed directly behind us.

“Security detail?” I asked.

“Yes. I took off fast when I was told you were here, and they lost the tail for a while.”

Cary went home with Clancy, so Lauren and I headed straight to the penthouse. I found myself getting turned on from watching Lauren drive. SHe handled the luxury vehicle the way she handled everything—confidently, aggressively, and with skillful control. SHe drove fast but not recklessly, weaving easily over the curves and straightaways of the scenic route back to the city. There was almost no traffic until we hit the gridlock of Manhattan.

When we arrived at her apartment, we both went straight into the master bathroom and undressed for a shower. As if she couldn’t stop touching me, Lauren washed me from head to toe; then she dried me with a towel and wrapped me in a new robe of embroidered teal silk with kimono sleeves. SHe finished by pulling a pair of similarly hued drawstring silk pants out of a drawer for himself.

“Don’t I get panties?” I asked, thinking about my drawer of sexy underwear.

“No. There’s a phone hanging on the wall in the kitchen. Hit speed dial one and tell the man who answers that I want him to pick up double my usual dinner order from Peter Luger.”

“All right.” I headed out to the living room and made the call; then I had to search for Lauren. I found her in her home office, a room I hadn’t been in before.

I didn’t get a good look at the space at first because the only lighting came from an angled picture light on the wall and a barrister’s lamp on her polished wood desk. Plus my eyes were more interested in focusing on her. SHe looked utterly sensual and compelling sprawled in her big black leather chair. she held a tulip glass of some liquor that she warmed between her hands and the beauty of her flexing biceps sent tingles racing through me, as did the tight lacing of muscles on her abdomen.

Her gaze was on the wall illuminated by the picture light, which snagged my attention, too. I was startled when I saw the art—a huge collage of blown-up photos of her and me: the picture of our kiss on the street outside the gym…a shot of us from the press gauntlet at the advocacy dinner…a candid of the tender aftermath of our fight in Bryant Park…

The focal point was the image in the center that had been taken while I slept in my own bed, lit only by the candle I’d left burning for her. It was an intimate voyeuristic shot, one that said more about the photographer than it did the subject.

I was deeply touched by the proof that she’d been falling along with me.

Lauren gestured at the drink she’d poured for me in advance and set on the edge of her desk. “Have a seat.”

I complied, curious. There was an edge to her that was new, a sense of purpose and calm determination paired with laser-precise focus.

What brought on her mood? And what did it mean for the rest of our evening?

Then I saw the small photo collage frame lying on the desktop next to my drink and my worry faded. The frame was very similar to the one already on my desk, but this one held three photos of Lauren and me together.

“I want you to take that to work,” she said quietly

“Thank you.” For the first time in days, I was happy. I hugged the frame to my chest with one hand, and picked up my glass with the other.

Her eyes glittered as she watched me take a seat. “You blow kisses at me all day from your picture on my desk. I think it’s only fair that you be equally reminded of me. Of us.”

I exhaled in a rush, my heartbeat not quite steady. “I never forget about you or us.”

“I wouldn’t let you if you tried.” Lauren took a deep drink, her throat working on a swallow. “I think I’ve figured out where we made our first misstep, the one that’s led to all the stumbles we’ve had since.”

“Oh?”

“Take a drink of your Armagnac, angel. I think you’ll need it.”

I took a cautious sip of the liquor, feeling the instantaneous burn, followed by recognition that I liked the flavor. I took a bigger drink.

Rolling her glass between her palms, Lauren took another drink and eyed me thoughtfully. “Tell me which was hotter, Camila: sex in the limo when you were in charge or sex in the hotel when I was?”

I shifted restlessly, unsure of where the conversation was leading. “I thought you enjoyed what happened in the limo. While it was happening, I mean. Obviously not later.”

“I loved it,” she said with quiet conviction. “The image of you in that red dress, moaning and telling me how good my cock feels inside you, will haunt me as long as I live. If you’d like to top me again in the future, I’m definitely game.”

My stomach tensed. The muscles in my shoulders began to knot. “Lauren, I’m starting to freak out a little. All this talk of safewords and topping…it feels like this conversation is leading somewhere I can’t go.”

“You’re thinking of bondage and pain. I’m talking about a consensual power exchange.” Lauren studied me intently. “Would you like more brandy? You’re very pale.”

“You think?” I set the drained glass down. “It sounds like you’re telling me you’re a Dominant.”

“Angel, you knew that already.” Her mouth curved in a soft, sexy smile. “What I’m telling you is that you’re submissive.”

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