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theinvisiblecapricorn · 2 years

Text

Won't Even Know It. Pt. 2

Warning: Fluff, angst, adult language.

By the time I arrived at home, the clock had struck 12, meaning it was the new year.

I tried to put my bike away as quietly as possible. I texted Fez, like I promised.

To: Fezzy

From: Y/N

I made it home safely and well. Happy new years, again.

From: Fezzy

To: Y/N

Glad to hear so, Y/N Y/L. Party sucks w/o you tho. Kinda miss u.

I smiled at the last sentence. He missed me and wasn’t trying to hide it.

To: Fezzy

From: Y/N

Oh stop it. I’ll come thru tomorrow, so you won’t be missing me for too long.

He read my message, but never replied. It didn’t make me doubt for a minute tho. Fez is a busy man. Everyone, except my parents, would say businessman even.

I made my way inside. Closing the door very slow, so it wouldn’t make a lot of noise once I closed it. I tiptoed my way up the stairs and reached my bedroom. Once I opened my door, I heard someone cough behind me. It was my sister. Y/S/N always held a type of jealousy against me. She did her best to grant my parents’ wishes as possible as she could.

‘’ Where were you? ‘’

‘’ Just, chilling with Rue. ‘’

‘’ Were you taking drugs with her? ‘’ I laughed at the comment. Just like Fez, my family couldn’t stand Rue because of her choice of living.

‘’ No, I wasn’t taking drugs, and neither was Rue. We were simply watching a movie. ‘’

‘’ Whatever. ‘’ and with that, I disappeared into my room.

I quickly changed into my pajama’s before slipping under my blanket. I checked my phone one more time, nothing. I put my phone on my nightstand before closing my eyes. It didn’t take long before I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of shouting downstairs. I got up and went downstairs. I saw my entire family sitting at the kitchen table. The moment I walked in, they looked at me.

‘’ Where were you last night? ‘’ My mom asked me. I looked at my sister, who had a smirk on her face.

‘’ I was with.. ‘’ My dad interrupted me.

‘’ Oh, stop it, we know you were at the party with all the junkies and girls who dress like hookers! ‘’ His comment surprised me.

‘’ Yes Y/N, we know. Why would you lie to us? ‘’

‘’ Because I know this would be the way you guys would react. I feel like a fucking prisoner in this house. ‘’ My mom gasped.

‘’ Y/N Y/L, watch your tone. We didn’t raise you like this. ‘’ I laughed.

‘’ No, you raised me like I am an adult. I could never make a tiny little mistake or enjoy being a teenager. I always have to think about my future, about being a loving housewife and taking care of my three children and my prick of a husband. And for what? So I could die and go to heaven? ‘’ I could feel myself become angry. Everything I always held in, kept my mouth shut about, was coming out and there was no way of stopping it.

‘’ We don’t want you to be around Rue anymore. ‘’ I felt like the floor disappeared underneath my feet.

‘’ What? No, you can’t decide that for me. ‘’ ‘’ Yes, we can. You still live in this house, under our roof. So yes, we actually can. ‘’

My mom had tears in her eyes. ‘’ She’s a bad influence, I don’t even recognize you anymore. ‘’ This family is becoming more and more delusional every day.

I was done with this conversation and made my way out of the kitchen, until I heard my sister say ‘’ What about her boyfriend, Fezco? The one who sells drugs and made Rue overdose? ‘’ I felt my blood pump through my veins and before I knew it, I run up to my sister and let my fist hit her cheek. My mother screamed at me, while my father pulled me of off my sister. My father put me down and pushed me into the hallway.

‘’ You, leave this house right now and don’t bother ever coming back. ‘’ I ran up the stairs, grabbed as much clothing as I could before going outside and getting on my bike. With tears in my eyes, I drove towards the only person I needed the most right now.

Happy fucking New Year to me.

As I arrived at Fez’s store, I saw myself in the reflection of the window. I looked like a fucking mess. I sure felt like one.

I walked into the store and saw Fez sit behind the counter. As soon as he saw me, his smile turned into a worried look.

‘’ Y/N Y/L, you okay? What happened? ‘’ I quickly wiped away my tears as I flashed Fez a weak smile. ‘’ Nothing, nothing to worry about. ‘’

Fez left his spot behind the counter and walked towards me. ‘’ What are you doing here? ‘’ ‘’ Didn’t I say I would come by to see you, so you wouldn’t have to miss me too much? ‘’

Fez chuckled. ‘’ You sure did. ‘’

Fez walked over to the cooler and took out two cans of sprite. He handed me one and he told me to take place on the stool behind the counter. We talked for a bit, nothing too serious. I’m kind of glad that he didn’t ask anything about my state earlier. But even if I didn’t want to admit it, I needed a place to stay. Even if it was just for tonight.

‘’ Fez, could I ask you something? ‘’ He looked at me, with his beautiful eyes and long lashes.

‘’ Yea, sure. ‘’ He climbed up on the counter to sit on it and waited for my question. I opened my mouth but was interrupted by a figure walking up into the store. I saw Fez’s eyes lit up as he started smiling. The moment those next words left Fez’s mouth, I felt my heart shatter in my chest right there and then.

‘’ Lexi Howard, how ‘y doing? ‘’ It was as if my entire world fell apart.

To be continued..

Click here for the previous part:

https://theinvisiblecapricorn.tumblr.com/post/675370334071996416/wont-even-know-it

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

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dealing in danger

for the wonderful erin's birthday!!! (@halsteadmarchs) this is literally nothing like your original prompt skdshjkl hence why i made it into a new post but i hope you like it!!!

i did however manage to include the dialogue prompt you requested! 40 - "Hasn't this addiction done enough damage already?" from the angst section of this list

title from can you hear me by anson seabra

ao3 | 1.9k | pre-series, drug addiction, overdose, questionable parenting decisions

TK is not supposed to be hearing this. Not that his parents have ever seemed to care about what he does or doesn’t hear; his entire childhood was spent listening to the harsh whispers that drifted through through the walls and doors of their apartment. He could tune them out, if he chose, but these days the arguments seem to increasingly be about him, and TK thinks he has a right to know about his own life.

Especially when so little of it seems to belong to him anymore.

He’s been living under lock and key ever since he fucked up and accidentally left his stash out in the open a week ago. It was a rookie mistake, but in his defense, he’d been pretty fucking high at the time. Granted, that defense hadn’t gone over particularly well with his mother, but TK thinks it’s a valid excuse. He’d woken up that morning to a pounding headache and a dry mouth and his parents waiting for him on the couch with several baggies of pills in front of them. He’d pretty much been dragged straight to the doctor’s, and he’d only managed to avoid a stint in rehab by some miracle.

Said miracle being, an impassioned plea to his dad and a promise that TK had no intention of keeping to play things by his rules. His mom had tried to object, but TK is an adult, more or less, and he lives with his dad anyway. She can hardly enforce something she’s not around to bear witness to.

Or, at least, that was the theory. In reality, his mom has been here most days, and at least three quarters of those days have featured an argument over their different approaches to this situation.

“You know it will end up worse for him if we force it!” his dad is saying, probably violently gesturing towards TK’s room.

“And if we don’t?” his mom demands, her tone matching his exactly. “Our son has clearly been doing this for long enough that he knows how to hide it from us; what makes you think that you can control it now when you’ve obviously failed to up until now?”

“Oh, that’s rich! TK has two parents, you know!”

“He lives under your roof! He probably did drugs right under your nose; maybe if you were ever home, you would have noticed!”

And so it goes.

It’s the same every time—his parents passing the blame back and forth, ultimately getting nowhere and only really serving to piss each other off more. TK is kind of tired of it, but it’s pretty much the only entertainment he gets these days, so.

He’s kind of just waiting for the day when they realise that things were better before. Back when he was at one friend or another’s house getting high and they never had to bother about keeping an eye on him. No-one could deny that those days had been happier, for all of them.

But, hey, it’s not as if they want TK’s opinion anyway. It’s only his life and all.

“Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage already?”

That’s new. TK sits up straight, ear practically pressed to the door to hear; his dad seems to have finally realised that he can hear their every word, and has adjusted his volume accordingly.

His mom seems just as lost. “What are you talking about, Owen?”

“Have you looked at our son recently?” There’s something hard in his dad’s voice that TK has never heard before, not even when they found out about the drugs, and it takes him aback. “He’s not well.”

“Which is why he needs to be in rehab—”

“Which is why he needs to be with us. Come on, Gwyn, you think this whole thing isn’t our fault?”

TK raises a brow. In reality, the drugs had probably only been a quarter about his parents, if that, but it’s classic Owen Strand to think that the world revolves around him.

“I know that.”

And classic Gwyneth Morgan to agree with him.

“We were never there for him, and now look where we are. You said it yourself—none of us even noticed that he was...what he was doing. It was an accident that we did find out. If we send him away for months, he’s not going to see it as us trying to help him; he’s going to see it as us not wanting to deal with him.

“TK looks bad now, but imagine what time there would do to him. His addiction has already hurt us all enough; now it’s time for us to start managing that. You know I’m right, Gwyn.”

There’s a long pause after his dad has finished speaking before his mother mumbles something that TK takes to be an agreement. He’s not listening now anyway, his father’s words on repeat in his mind.

Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage already?

He’s not well.

...hurt us all enough

He’s right. His dad is right.

TK has hurt his parents enough. And he’s pretty sure that his dad knows he’s already figuring out a plan to go back to the drugs; he’s just choosing to ignore it because he doesn’t want to believe it.

But there’s a simple solution to this, and TK doesn’t know why he didn’t see it before.

He’s the problem, so to fix it, he just needs to not be around.

Simple.

So, that night, TK quietly steals the cash from his dad’s wallet, picks the lock on the apartment door, and creeps out into the night.

It’s pathetically easy to not be found if you don’t want to be. TK knows that by now his parents will have gone through every possible channel to find him, but he’s abandoned all his old haunts and used his dad’s money to get as far away from Manhattan as possible. He makes sure to keep outside of the 252’s service area, changes his name, and even buys some hair dye and new clothes to reduce the chances of him being recognised as fair as possible.

He has no money left by the time he feels safe, but that’s okay. There are other ways of paying for what he needs, after all.

TK survives almost two weeks in his new life. He steals food, grabs dropped money, and sleeps on the streets, or sometimes in a bed if that’s what his dealer of choice prefers for that night. It’s obviously nowhere near as comfortable as his old life was, but needs must, and TK knows how to adapt.

Anyway, at least he’s not trapped with his parents and their constant arguing anymore. At least he can get Oxy pretty much when he wants, in exchange for a quick fuck or two. And he knows that he can’t keep this up indefinitely. He knows that, sooner or later, his choices are going to catch up with him.

Thing is, TK gave up on old age a long time ago. Live fast, die young—that’s how it goes, right? It doesn’t sound so bad to him.

Or, it doesn’t, until his mistakes do finally find him again.

That night, he does his usual business, a baggie of pills for him, a blowjob for his dealer, and then it’s over. He’ll be on the streets tonight—apparently his dealer had ‘other matters’ to take care of—but TK doesn’t mind. It’s a balmy night, and alleyways can be surprisingly cosy if you know how to make them so.

Drugs, it turns out, work a treat.

TK doesn’t bother inspecting the pills as he tips them back, dry swallowing one after the other. Even if he had, it’s doubtful that he would have noticed anything off—and, later, he has to wonder if he would have cared if he had.

Slowly, the high begins to wash over him, and TK feels happy. He’s flying, but then it feels like something slams into him, and panic seizes his chest as he crashes back down to earth.

His body isn’t moving—TK can’t move—but he has this swooping sensation in his stomach and dread growing slowly in him. Something is horribly, horribly wrong, but his brain can’t think beyond helpcan’tbreathedyingDAD—

TK twitches and chokes, and then there’s no time for thinking anything as his head drops to his chest and his eyes fall shut.

Owen stares down at his son, lying comatose in a hospital bed. It’s only been two weeks since he fled the apartment, but already he looks so different, so much worse. Apart from the dyed hair and the streaks of grime on his face, it’s obvious that he’s lost a horrific amount of weight—weight TK could ill afford to lose.

There are deep purple bags under his eyes and his hair is limp and greasy to the touch. Nevertheless, Owen reaches out anyway, tangling his fingers in the strands as he prays for TK to open his eyes.

Worse, TK’s body is a patchwork of bruises and cuts, some in places that leave little doubt as to what he was doing to pay for the drugs. Owen feels sick to think about it, the idea of his 20-year old son out on the streets, doing...doing...that for something he thought he needed.

Jesus.

The doctors have told them that TK was lucky he was found when he was. Apparently, his dealer had fucked him over, given him much stronger drugs than TK normally took, causing him to overdose. On top of that, they’d been a bad batch, so TK wouldn’t have even had time to go looking for help if he’d known what was happening.

And there’s a thought niggling at Owen. He thought he knew his son, but looking at him now, he realises that he’s never been more wrong. Because Owen wonders whether or not TK would have gone for help if there was time, and he has no idea of the answer.

Heels click behind him, bringing him out of his thoughts. Owen knows what’s coming before Gwyn speaks, but he doesn’t try to stop her.

“Hasn’t this addiction don’t enough damage already?” she parrots, her tone cold and harsh.

Owen sighs. “Gwyn—”

“I accept my role in this, Owen,” she says, marching to stand on the other side of the bed, “but if you had just listened to me before then none of us would even be here. TK might not have been happy at rehab, but he wouldn’t be in a coma after almost dying either.”

“I know.”

“You know,” she scoffs. “Listen to me, Owen. We tried doing this your way, and look how it ended up. If—” Gwyn gasps and breaks off, sudden tears filling her eyes. She turns to look out the window for a moment, blinking hard, but she’s still not quite fully composed when she faces Owen again. “When he wakes up, we’re going to do what we should have done three weeks ago, and we are going to fix this.”

“I know,” Owen repeats, his voice a whisper. Gwyn seems startled by his ready acceptance, but Owen looks at TK’s pale, thin, bruised face, and he realises that a second chance is the last chance they’re going to get.

And he’s not going to lose his son.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tk strand #owen strand #gwyneth morgan #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #erin tag

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yellowmagicalgirl · 3 years

Text

find other ways to make it

Having a vengeful god constantly ranting within your head is painful, so Krel is interested in any possible solution. Now if only Douxie would believe him on this.

My brain came up with this while putting away dishes and thinking about Krel being semi-possessed by Gaylen, and then I decided that I need practice writing fluffy content. The title comes from Paramore’s “The Only Exception”.

Krel’s demiaroace in this, btw.

CW: references to drug abuse/overdosing in the first two paragraphs, references to canonical deaths, and Gaylen being an intrusive thot

AO3

FFN

Krel gripped the edges of his faceplate and squeezed his eyes shut. None of the pain medications he had taken were working even though he had taken the maximum dosage, and even though he was now immortal he didn’t want to see if taking too many pills would cause lasting side effects.

(Though, that certainly would’ve been a less grief-inducing way of killing Morando, by just dumping a metric ton of pain meds down his throat and waiting for him to die. It probably wouldn’t have worked, though, because Morando was doing what Gaylen wanted. Morando was causing destruction without any care for who he hurt.)

Between Krel’s breathing and Gaylen’s ranting, everything was so loud. He heard Douxie shout Krel's name and the sound of pounding feet. Krel felt a pair of familiar, comforting hands grab Krel's shoulders. If Krel had to pinpoint the first time he ever felt sensual attraction, it was when Douxie freed Krel from the ice and placed his hands on Krel’s shoulders. And then, in the slightly-longer-than-a-year since, other forms of attraction for Douxie eventually followed.

Gaylen began to rant about how, as his heir, Krel was better than all of these stupid mortals. Yes, even the immortal ones, because they were not gods. Krel tried to point out the flaw of calling Douxie an immortal mortal. Gaylen retaliated by sending a spike of pain and the memory of Douxie’s dead body to Krel.

“He won't shut up,” Krel says. “I can't think; he’s just so loud.”

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay.” One of Douxie’s hands ran down Krel’s arm until Douxie took Krel’s hand away from his faceplate. And, it felt nice to have the release of pressure from his head. That, and the gentle way that Douxie rubbed his thumb over the back of Krel’s hand.

“I just want my head to be clear,” Krel admitted, if only because he didn’t want to admit to other things.

“I mean,” Douxie said, in a strangely beguiling tone, “I know of something that might... nope.” At the last word, his tone broke into something far more embarrassed. At the same time, Douxie dropped Krel’s hand.

Krel opened his eyes and brought the rest of his hands down to his sides. Douxie was looking away from him, cheeks slightly reddened.

“Something that might...” Krel prodded.

“It was stupid, I mean, I really doubt you’d be interested.”

“Douxie, I’m interested in literally anything that will shut him up.” Gaylen retaliated by ranting louder.

Douxie didn’t look convinced. “I mean, I think you should hear what I came up with first, and just know that it doesn’t have to mean anything beyond me trying to cure your headache if you don’t want it to mean anything.”

“Don’t want what to mean anything?”

Douxie swallowed before gazing directly into Krel’s eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

The very idea that someone might dare to ask Krel to kiss them made Gaylen very angry, and if it were anyone else Krel would have agreed with Gaylen. But it was Douxie, and so that made Gaylen even angrier. Krel winced at the outburst.

Douxie flinched. “I get it, there’s a reason why I said it was stupid, forget-”

“No. Could you, please?” Krel licked his lips, annoyed when his tongue managed to catch on one of his own fangs. Gaylen’s ranting took on a gloating tone. “Please kiss me?”

Douxie’s lips were on Krel’s as soon as the words left them. Krel’s eyes widened before they slipped closed. Gaylen’s angry ranting got even louder before Douxie turned his face by just a fraction and -

Oh.

Oh sweet Seklos, there was silence. And Douxie was kissing Krel, and it was so nice. It was better than anything Krel could have ever imagined. Which, granted, he hadn’t imagined that kisses could be anything but awkward like a too-tight hug with someone who had cold hands, and he had been wrong about kisses. He wouldn’t have minded if this moment never ended.

But it did, with Douxie pulling away, red-faced and chest heaving like the simple act of moving their lips together was heavy exercise. Which, to be fair, Krel couldn’t recall feeling Douxie’s breath against his face during their kiss, so perhaps Douxie had been holding his breath?

“Did that help?” Douxie asked in a breathy voice.

Krel nodded. “At best you managed to banish him for good, at worst he’s sulking, which hopefully will last a few horvaths. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Douxie winced and looked away. “I mean, if you don’t want to do it again you definitely don’t have to, I’m not trying to pressure you or anything.”

Krel raised an eyebrow. It almost sounded like, no, that was unlikely. Then again, Douxie had been the one to initiate the kiss, so maybe?

“Douxie,” Krel said, watching Douxie look at him out of the corners of his captivating eyes. “When you mentioned that the kiss didn’t have to mean anything if I didn’t want it to mean anything, did you want it to mean anything?”

Douxie buried his face in his hands. The tips of his ears were now red. “Yes, but I didn’t ask you for it to mean anything other than making Gaylen shut up.”

Krel put a hopefully-comforting hand on Douxie’s shoulder. “I would’ve been happy with it meaning something, even in retrospect. Um, are you interested in going on a date with me this weekend, assuming that the world doesn’t try to end again?”

Douxie looked up at him, grinning. “I think I’ll always be interested in spending time with you.”

#krexie #krel tarron #gaylen!krel #gaylen's core #hisirdoux casperan #my writing #gaylen #demiaroace!krel #demiromantic!krel #demisexual!krel #tales of arcadia #3below #toawizards #paramore

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iwhumpyou · 4 years

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Heyyyy! Hope you're doing well! Can I request a whumpee watching their loved one killed by the whumper please?

Hi! I’m doing okay, thank you for asking. You’re the first ask and the first request!I’ll admit, this is my first time writing character death, especially in whump, so it took longer than expected. I hope this was what you were asking for!

Also, the ask is technically a spoiler, but I like to think of it as a different experience - the slowly rising anticipation and dread that comes from reading a story to which you already know the ending.

Enjoy!

Masterlist.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

The basement was brightly lit, the guard was still rubbing his shoulder and shooting Jayden a baleful glare, and instead of water dripping, soft music was playing. The chair he was sitting in looked brand new and the temperature wasn’t freezing cold. Yes, the leather cuffs were restrictive (almost no give, and he’d been testing them for an hour) but altogether, Jayden would rate this dungeon one of the most comfortable he’d been in.

As a dungeon, however, it did poorly – utterly lacking in aesthetic and pitiful in inspiring fear (Jayden was contemplating taking a nap – it had been a long few weeks) – and Jayden was almost…disappointed.

He’d heard several things about Fenrir Skau – horrible things. People spoke in whispers about his cruelty, his viciousness, his complete and utter lack of morals. Some people refused to say anything at all, merely warning him never to get in Skau’s way. Still others had startled at the name, backing away from him as though the very mention would bring Skau to them.

After all that hype, Jayden was a bit let down. There had barely been any finesse in the abduction, he’d managed to drop two guards, and now it looked like he was going to offered refreshments.

The guard abruptly straightened to attention and Jayden looked up to see the man himself enter. Skau nodded to the guard and looked towards Jayden, his expression becoming almost…hungry?

Jayden shivered despite himself. An involuntary reaction, just the natural flinch upon seeing those glacial blue eyes. (Nothing at all to do with the horror stories he’d been hearing for weeks. Nothing at all to do with the fact that he was tied up in the basement of a man he’d stolen from. No, nothing at all to do with that.)

Skau took a nearby chair and settled into it effortlessly. Every part of the man looked effortless, from the windswept dark hair to the press of his tux. He didn’t look like a man who had paid money to look good – no, merely smiled at the universe, just a flash of teeth, until it agreed with his demands.

Jayden was very aware that he was in his least favorite set of clothes, covered in paint stains, and cuffed to a chair.

“Would you like a glass?” Skau asked, as someone walked in, placed a tray with two wineglasses on a side table, and left. That looked awfully red.

Skau was holding all the cards at the table, he hardly needed to trick Jayden to poison him and Jayden had long since discovered that power was psychological. It didn’t matter that he was cuffed to a chair – Skau only had power over him if Jayden let him have the power. (And Jayden had practically made a living out of stealing power from billionaires.)

“I’d love to,” Jayden flashed him a winning smile and wriggled his fingers, “But I seem to be stuck.”

Skau laughed, “If you’re half as impressive as the stories, then you’d be able to escape with one free hand. Perhaps stealing another ten million along the way?”

Jayden blinked at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” (He certainly hadn’t stopped at ten million.)

Skau merely smiled again and Jayden narrowed his eyes at the man who’d suddenly appeared to hold the glass to his lips. Well, it was slightly awkward, but a discreet sniff revealed that it smelled fruity and Jayden obediently drank.

And immediately winced, his face screwing up at the tartness. “What is that?”

“Cranberry juice,” Skau replied, calmly drinking from his own glass.

“Cranberry juice?” Jayden wasn’t sure if any amount of swallowing could remove the sour taste, “Why would you give me cranberry juice?”

Maybe this was why everyone was so fearful of Skau – he forced them all to drink the sour juice. Wait, no, there were people who liked that sort of thing.

“Vitamin C is important,” Skau shrugged. Jayden rolled his eyes and settled back in his chair, periodically rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth in the hopes that the taste would dissipate faster.

“Kidnapping people and giving them cranberry juice is a crime,” Jayden said when it became clear Skau was content to stare at him, “Granted, one of those things may be more illegal than the other. What is a respected –” Jayden fought the urge to twist his tone “– businessman like you doing mixed up in this?”

“I own a cranberry vineyard,” Skau said, smiling again, “It’s so much easier to control the product when you have it from start to finish.”

Jayden got the feeling he was no longer talking about cranberries.

“Pleasantries aside,” Skau said, setting his empty glass aside. The juice still clung to it, coating the inside with a thin veneer of red. “My proposition is simple. You return my money, with a negotiated fee for taking it in the first place. I will let you go and promise not to bother you again – if you stay out of my way.”

Jayden laughed. This was his starting point? No threats, no promises of torture, no amusing anecdotes on how thieves used to get their hands cut off? Jayden was thoroughly unimpressed.

“Counter-offer,” Jayden said, chuckling, “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and I promise I won’t call the cops if you let me leave now.”

“Why would I care if you call the cops?” Skau asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow, “Half are in my payroll and all of them are scared.”

Jayden’s laughter trailed off, uneasy at the matter-of-fact tone.

“You will tell me where my money is,” Skau said, quiet but no less authoritative.

“Or what?” Jayden raised an eyebrow, “You’ll take it out of my hide?” He set his face and lounged further in the chair. “You can try,” he drawled.

Skau observed him for a moment longer before smiling again. “Pain won’t make you talk,” he said and Jayden startled, “I can see that.” That was not a tone of defeat. “It’s pointless to waste time and energy on torturing you. You’ll hold the information to the very end with spite – just to spit in my face that I don’t have what I want. To die happy.”

Skau didn’t sound the least perturbed by his assessment and Jayden narrowed his eyes at this thorough deconstruction of his character.

“But every problem is not a nail and sometimes you need to switch tools,” Skau said. He motioned over his shoulder and a guard disappeared out the door. “You’re quite confident of your own abilities to withstand torture.”

Jayden’s heart rate increased as he caught sight of the figure being manhandled through the door. The clothes were paint-spattered, just as his, and his heart caught in his throat as the figure was shoved into a chair and similarly restrained.

Skau laughed, standing up and striding towards the other chair, and whipped the black hood off. “I wonder, does that confidence extend to all your friends?”

Jayden stared into Kevin’s wide, terrified eyes and had to remember how to breathe.

“What are you doing?” Jayden asked, trying to keep his voice from cracking, trying to his fingers still. He had begun to strain against the cuffs without even realizing, his hands balling into fists. “He had nothing to do with this. Your fight is with me.”

“Yes,” Skau said, “My fight is with you and I will use any means necessary to get what I want. Let that be a lesson to you. Now – my money back, and an extra fifty thousand for the inconvenience.”

“Are you crazy?” Jayden scowled, “You aren’t going to hurt an innocent.”

“I just told you half the city’s police are on my payroll and that’s your response?” Skau clucked, “Not very bright, are you.”

“You’re not going to hurt him,” Jayden said defiantly, with all the confidence he didn’t feel. Skau wasn’t going to hurt him. No matter what he said, there was no way he’d get away with it. “You’ll never be able to cover it up.”

“There are so many ways to cover up a dead body,” Skau rebutted, “I can drop him up near some gangs having a turf war. Leave his mangled body at the bottom of a ravine. Or just dump him in an abandoned house with drug paraphernalia – in this country no one looks twice at a drug overdose.”

Jayden could see Kevin’s face go pale, freckles stark against his skin.

“Give me my money back,” Skau said and Jayden strained against his restraints at the sight of him so close to Kevin.

“Jayden,” and it tore at his heart to hear Kevin’s voice so lost. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Jayden said, biting off the rest of the sentence before it can escape his mouth. Nothing that should concern you. How many times has he said those same words to Kevin?

(Nothing that should have ever impacted him, and if Jayden had known that this would be the outcome, he would’ve turned away the moment he’d heard of Skau.)

“If that’s how you want to play it,” Skau shrugged and motioned to the nearest guard. Jayden’s blood went cold, but he had no time to backtrack, no time to even shout as Skau took the guard’s gun and shot Kevin in the knee.

Kevin screamed.

“No!” Jayden shouted, his voice alarmingly close to shriek. “Are you fucking insane? You can’t just shoot him!”

Skau gave him an infuriating smile and cocked the gun again. “No!” Jayden shouted, “No, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt him!”

Kevin’s screams had died to soft groans – he was half-slumped, fingernails biting into the chair, tears trickling down his face. The paint-splattered jeans were slowly turning red.

He wasn’t looking at Jayden.

“My money back. All of it,” Skau said, an edge to his tone signifying that he knew it was more than ten million. “And a hundred thousand for the inconvenience.”

“You said a negotiated fee,” Jayden replied, trying to find a way out of the situation. If only he could get out of these restraints – he’d taken down the guards once before and Skau couldn’t be much of a fighter. Perhaps this time he’d take the man’s entire –

Skau tilted his head to one side, shrugged as if conceding the point, and turned fluidly, shooting Kevin in the other knee.

Kevin’s agonizing wail was nearly drowned out by Jayden’s scream. “Stop! Stop hurting him!”

“Is that enough negotiation for you?” Skau smiled.

He’d been wrong, Jayden realized. He’d been wrong and cocky and overconfident. He’d made assumptions – judgements about everyone who’d tried to warn him, judgements about the décor, judgements about Skau’s fucking sanity – and he’d been wrong every time.

“I’ll give you your money back,” Jayden capitulated, staring at Kevin and willing the other man to look at him. (Even for just a moment. He didn’t want to see the blame and rage and fear but he’d take it, just to make sure he was okay.)

“One million for the inconvenience,” Skau said and Jayden nodded his head mutely.

He’d give Skau whatever he wanted, as long as they’d be able to get out of this.

“You can tell me where it is and where I’ll be able to find the other million. Once the money is in my hands, you can go.”

Jayden opened his mouth to argue, saw the glint in Skau’s eyes, and closed it fast. It was difficult – he was used to taunting his captors, used to rubbing their lack of power in their faces. He was the powerless one now.

(He never wanted to hear Kevin make those sounds again.)

“Your money’s in a bank account in the Cayman’s. The one million is in another account.” Jayden rattled off both account numbers, passwords, security questions. Skau took a seat and checked it all on his laptop. Jayden could see the satisfaction on his face when the transactions had been completed.

“That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Skau asked, laughing, as if it was amusing that he’d shot out an innocent man’s kneecaps.

“You said you’d let us go,” Jayden said, quiet, still staring at Kevin. The other man raised his head slightly and finally looked at Jayden.

His eyes were full of fear and pain but they stayed on Jayden’s face, as if he was willing him to say that everything was going to be okay.

“No, I didn’t,” Skau said and all the blood in Jayden’s veins turned to ice.

“What?” he said, his voice rising, “We made a deal – your money back, your stupid fee, and you’d –”

“Let you go,” Skau nodded, “And never bother you again. I remember.” He stood up fluidly, the gun still in his hands and Jayden stared at him in horror.

“I can give you more money if you want,” Jayden started, trying not to panic but his words were rushing faster and faster, “I can steal from whoever you want – I’ll do anything you want, just let us go – please just let us go!” He caught Kevin’s gaze again and the look on his face was quiet surrender. “Just let him go. Please.”

“There’s no need for that,” Skau said, “I keep my deals.” Jayden had time for a half second of relief, a half-second of dawning hope, before Skau turned and shot.

Jayden stared with wide eyes, uncomprehending. Kevin gasped once, twice, blood dribbling down his chin. His fingers fluttered before growing still. He slumped back further in his chair, drawing in another gasping breath.

He locked eyes with Jayden, dark with hazel, before he stilled completely. Blood seeped out of the wound on his chest, a bright, vicious red.

“No,” Jayden said, his voice too soft for his ears. He felt like he was underwater, like there was a barrier separating him and the rest of the room. His thoughts felt like they were moving through molasses as he stared at Kevin’s face, lips red with blood, eyes open and sightless.

“No, no, no, Kevin, no, please, Kevin, please –” Jayden hardly knew what he was saying but he knew that Kevin needed to hear it, he needed to hear it and look at him, look at him, and the red, all the red had to go, it couldn’t be red, it couldn’t be.

(A faint voice in the back of his head. Cutting, cruel, furious, merciless. You did this.)

The restraints on his hands loosened and then fell off entirely. Jayden stayed where he was, rooted in place.

“I keep my deals,” Skau said, and something darker than amusement was present in the curve of his smile. “I promise to never bother you again, unless you get in my way.” The smile shifted to one far more satisfactory. “I don’t think you will – you look like a man who’s learnt his lesson.”

(A lesson. All of this had been a fucking lesson.)

“You said –”

“I said I’d let you go, and I did.”

Jayden couldn’t look away from Kevin. If he did, it would become real. If he glanced away, it would be lost forever. As long as he kept looking, kept staring, kept watching, there would be a hint, a sign, a breath, a flicker, something.

“You – you –” If he said it, it became real. If he thought it, it became real.

“Two can keep a secret when one of them is dead,” Skau said, “Just tying up a loose end.”

Kevin had been smart and stubborn and his hair turned golden when the light hit it and his smile was the happiest sound in the world and his drawings were masterpieces and even in paint-splattered clothes, even with chalk in his hair and charcoal on his fingertips, he had been the most handsome person in the world. And he was just a loose end to Fenrir Skau.

“You’re a monster,” Jayden said brokenly.

“You already knew that,” Skau said, a gentle chide, and the words lanced through his heart.

Jayden closed his eyes and all he could see was blood.

#whump #whumpfic #character death #gunshot wound #emotional whump #stealing from the wrong person #involved more research on cranberries than I expected #why cranberries?#i do not know #my mind is a strange place #request fill

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cabinboy100 · 4 years

Text

MR ROBOT: Welcome to Farth, the parallel…

Spoiler alert: This is being written after viewing season 4 episode 11, “411: eXit”, and will likely include spoilery references to events up to that episode. If you’re not caught up, proceed at your own risk!

PARALLEL VISION…

Let's assume that the parallel world that we saw at the end of 411 is not real. What it is is a vision induced by drugs and guided by suggestion given by Whiterose or one of her agents. Like DM Whiterose is taking Half-Elf Elliot thru a module, but it all seems real to Elliot.

A simulation delivered via VR or a brain-computer interface Matrix could explain the experience as well, but I don't love that because we haven't had any hint of that sort of tech or manipulation before. Sure, MAYbe the Whiterose's machine has been about that, but all we've heard and seen about it has hinted at many-worlds and/or time travel. We've seen Elliot experience an unreal world before in season 1, in the wack-a-doodle key-quest he embarks upon while going thru detox withdrawal.

NB. I believe that a simulated world or an imagined one can be parallel as well. But I’m 50/50 on whether the show will care about that distinction. =)

I can think of three real world moments when Elliot could have entered this state (assuming it didn’t happen back when Tyrell shot him—possible, but I don’t want to think about it).

1. At the end of 401, either when the overdose was administered or the resuscitative drug was. 2. Sometime between Elliot leaving Darlene at the motel and entering the Black Room at the Washington Township plant. 3. After entering the Black Room at the Washington Township plant.

Possibility 3 is the easiest to understand. Whiterose entered the room. She and Elliot exchanged words. Whiterose drugged him with gas or something that works on contact applied to the door or the chair or maybe everything in the room. And at some point—before Whiterose shoots herself—Elliot goes under. Maybe Elliot was chloroformed in his seat and then moved to a bed and set up with an IV of whatever cocktail Whiterose uses for this. I imagine the DM-ing going like hypnosis sessions I've seen on TV and in movies, only with intentional leading…

WHITEROSE: Whiterose opens the box and pulls out a pistol. She points it at you. ELLIOT: What are you going to do with that? WHITEROSE: She keeps the gun pointed at you and answers—I have learned to listen when time speaks. Our paths were too precisely linked to this moment for there not to be a reason. This is why. You get to decide. Elliot, what do you say? ELLIOT: Then I'm telling you, don't do this! WHITEROSE: She raises the gun to her temple and fires, shooting herself in the head. She collapses, dead. Elliot, what do you do? ELLIOT: I try the doors. WHITEROSE: You try both doors. They are locked. ELLIOT: I bang on the doors. WHITEROSE: There is no response. No one can hear you. ELLIOT: I don't know what the fuck to do. WHITEROSE: The alarm continues to sound. What do you do? (ROBOT: We need to figure out the code on this door. Try that phone. See if you can get an outside line.) ELLIOT: I pick up the phone. WHITEROSE: You hear a computerized voice on the phone speak in English—zero five zero nine. It repeats in other languages. You notice the title of the book next to the phone. Resurrection. What do you do? (ROBOT: Anything?) ELLIOT: Zero five zero nine. I try the code on the lock. WHITEROSE: The door you came in unlocks. The hallway is empty. You can leave the way you came. But you have a feeling about the book. You go back to the table and flip through it and find an floppy disk in a sleeve labelled "eXit". (ROBOT: Let's go! There's an access tunnel down the hall.) WHITEROSE: You realize that whatever is on the disk must be important. Whiterose said that you get to decide. Elliot, what do you do? ELLIOT: If we leave, the nuclear reactor's gonna melt down… (ROBOT: Which is why we need to get as far fucking away from here as possible.) ELLIOT: If we don't stop this, the meltdown will destroy the whole town. (ROBOT: You wanna top the meltdown? How the fuck are we gonna do that?) ELLIOT: She said she gave me a choice. WHITEROSE: That's right, Elliot. What do you do next? ELLIOT: I insert the disk in the computer. (ROBOT: We don't have time for this shit.) WHITEROSE: The computer takes a few seconds to read the disk and loads up a game called "eXit". In the expected color and resolution, you see an open door above the word "eXit" against a background image of Earth. You realize this isn't just a game. This is an override process for the machine. Elliot, what do you think? ELLIOT: I don't think this is just a game. (ROBOT: This place is gonna blow!) ELLIOT: This is an override process to turn off the machine.

And so on. Note that Mr. Robot's lines are internal to Elliot, he doesn't speak them out loud and Whiterose is not aware of Robot or his words and actions.

The experience may not be as granularly guided as this, and Elliot may not actually be speaking to Whiterose unless she prompts him to, but I figured I'd try to illustrate the process using actual dialogue. It could simply be Whiterose saying to the hooked-up-to-some-IV-drip suggestible Elliot…

Whiterose explains that you get to choose whether to stop the meltdown or let the machine grant everyone their dream life on a dream world. Then she points the gun at her temple and fires, killing herself. You are alone in the room and the alarms continue to sound. The doors are locked, so you try the blue phone. A computerized voice tells you "zero five zero nine" in several languages and repeats. You try it as the code on the door you came in and it works. The hallway outside is clear, but you can't leave if there's a chance you can stop the meltdown. Whiterose said you get to choose what happens, so she must have left you a way to do that. You flip thru RESURRECTION and find a floppy disk labelled "eXit". When you load it into the computer, it boots up a game called "eXit". You realize this is how you choose—if you play the game, you can shut down the machine and stop the meltdown.

Whiterose describes the experience in a general way and Elliot's brain fills in the details, dialogue, action, appearances, unless Whiterose gives him something specific.

Whiterose guides Elliot through game play, and it unfolds as we saw it…

WHITEROSE: The game tells you—The note says "Don't leave me here". Do you leave your friend or stay? ELLIOT: …Stay. WHITEROSE: You type "Stay" and hit return. The computer shuts down. The alarms shut off. The normal lighting returns. It seems like the meltdown has been stopped. The room is quiet… ROBOT: Did it work? WHITEROSE: But after a few seconds, the room is shaken by a tremor. You hear crashing and things falling outside the door. Elliot, what do you do? ELLIOT: I unlock the door and look outside… WHITEROSE: There are fires in the hallway. You can't leave. The first time you played you chose the new world. The second time was too late to shut down the machine. The meltdown has begun. All you can do is wait for the end. ROBOT: It's too late, isn't it? WHITEROSE: You have ten seconds before the plant destruction reaches the black room. When I reach zero, you will be consumed by the heat and fire and die. 10… ELLIOT: I love you. WHITEROSE: 9…8… ROBOT: I love you, too. WHITEROSE: 7…6…5…4 ELLIOT: It's an exciting time in the world. WHITEROSE: 3…2…1…zero. The world has disappeared, consumed by red nothingness. Red is all you see. All you hear is my voice. Now. Think back to when you were alive. Think about the world you would dream of when you were alive. The best possible world, with your best possible life, one that makes you happy, doing things you excel at and want to excel at and enjoy and want to enjoy. All of the people you know and love are there, too, living lives that make them happy, too. Do you remember that dream world? Can you imagine that dream life? Now, hold the dream in your mind, tightly. Imagine your home in it. Imagine a good day in it. Now, in your home, in this best life, wake up from the red nothingness to that good day and live!

And that would be the start of Elliot's day before he gets married on Farth, where it's always 11:16 on May 9.

Man, that was exhausting and I’m not sure I really got that much down. Blerg. Gonna snap this off here. Only a few hours to go before the finale!

By the way—FARTH?

Farth : Earth :: FCorp : ECorp =)

Keep on keepin’ on, Friend~

#MR ROBOT #MRROBOT #crazytalk #theory #parallel #411 #exit #Whiterose #elliott reeder #rambo

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blueyesandleatherjacket · 4 years

Text

The Fallen, 12/17

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 12/17.

Pairings: Nine x Rose.

A/N: Tagging @thebookster on her demand.

“We've all fallen, but at the same time we're not broken. There is the hint that we are going to get up again.” - Amy Lee.

CHAPTER 12:

My dear Rose, I have to apologise for how long it took me to remember you and what you mean to me. When I arrived in Manchester last year, I was highly confused by the power running through my brain and burning me. It was killing me, and my only thought was for you. Humans are made to handle the power of the Vortex. No one is. I panicked. I ran to you, got kicked out by you mother. I’ve been arrested and sent to this mad place they dare calling a psychiatric hospital. They locked me in there for months and made me forget everything about the Wolf, about the Doctor, about you. I can’t remember what they did to me but whatever they did, my mind blocked the memories. There’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that I’ve seen frightening things. Things that had forced the Wolf and myself to retreat so our host could get back to his life. We thought it would be easier for him if we were dormant. Turns out it’s not. His subconscious brings us back to him but he can’t get a proper hold on us. I have no idea what this new Doctor could have told you about the regeneration. Something about cells rewriting themselves to create a new body. That’s the usual story, but it’s all a lie. The truth us that Time Lords steal bodies. We meet a lot of people throughout our lives and when time comes, we pick the one we like the most and our being is transferred into this body. Like a data transfer. You’ll understand in a few years. My name is now Maxence, Maxence Spitz. I have lived in Manchester in my younger years. I am living in London today. This is a long story. I shall tell you everything about this man, about why I’ve chosen him among the billions of other people I could have picked, but that would be too long. I don’t have much time. I’ve tried contacting you with the telepathic connection the Wolf is providing us with. Many times. It’s a Time Lord ability as well. We can get in contact with everyone sharing a connection with the Vortex. I never got an answer. I guess the Wolf is dormant in you. That’s good. It’ll save you from the madness I went through after the regeneration. I was convinced this would kill me. Turns out I’m still alive. I suppose the presence of the Vortex in me had changed my DNA. Hopefully, it will change yours too. Hopefully I’ll find you before your part of the Vortex awakes. Your mother won’t be able to help. Only I can help you if he’s not around. I can’t reach hum either. When he’s needed, he’s supposed to turn up. The TARDIS certainly is keeping him away. The universe has bigger problems than us. As long as you are alive, he can stay where he wants. Are you with him right now? Is he taking care of you properly? Does he know about the Wolf? Do you know about the Wolf? I wish I could get a hold of you. I’d feel better. I’d feel even better if I could remember you without drugs. If you don’t hear about me anymore, I would have had an overdose from trying to remember you.

Your Doctor.

My dear Rose, Remember when I used to say that humans were stupid apes but still thought that they were amazing and capable of huge things? I’m taking back my words. They’re stupid. I am stupid. I can say that now. I’m a stupid human like everyone else on this stupid planet. It was risky, I know. I already knew it when I’ve taken that decision in the few seconds I had left to live as the Doctor, but I had to do it. I couldn’t leave you. I couldn’t just die without you knowing that I loved you. So I wished. Really hard. Both the TARDIS and the Bad Wolf have granted that wish, and I was sent back to my good old life, to the ordinary man I was before I became the Doctor. And, as you most likely know it now, something went wrong. I felt it the minute the regeneration was reaching its end; the minute I was sent back in the body of the man I was before I became the Doctor you’ve met. The Bad Wolf has split. That thought was haunting me. I haven’t taken the entirety of the Bad Wolf from you. The power has split in two. One half was inside my mind and the other half stayed in yours. That was a really bad thing because like I’ve said, the power could kill anyone. And humans could certainly not survive the exposure to such a power. I have been the human proof of my own fear. When I woke up in my former life, my only thought was to find you and the new Doctor, to tell the both of you the danger of our condition. I haven’t been quick enough. I was already suffering from a terrible headache and fever caused by the change of body, inferior to the one I used to have. The police found me before I could do anything and they thought I was mad or drugged or something. I was declared insane by a therapist and sent into a terrible place. I don’t have many memories of that place. I think the Wolf has erased them all to protect me, but I still have that feeling of dread and pain sometimes for no reason. I had no memories at all actually. I knew who I was and where to find my family, but I have forgotten it all about being the Doctor, about you, about the hospital. There was a two-years gap in my mind, and it was unbearable. It was driving me crazy, for real this time. They made me forget about the Wolf too, the half that’s in my mind. So, when it started revealing itself, I freaked out. So much that I’ve dived into alcohol and hard drugs. That’s when I’ve realised how stupid the sober humans were. Alcohol and drugs tend to completely daze a person and to destroy a brain bit by bit. In my case, it is totally different. Since I’ve become a human, I feel like I’m stupid and unable to do anything properly – I’m even forced to wear glasses now because I can’t see a thing anymore! – far from the man I was as the Doctor. But when I’m high, it’s like I’m cleverer. I can access the memories I have forgotten because of that stupid nurse, Nash, who tortured me for months. When I’m high, I can remember you, and that warms my human heart to remember your pretty face and your amazing smile. I often wonder where you are, if you’re still with him, the new Doctor, if he has been able to help you. And then, my heart is broken. I can’t help but think of you with him, being happy and traveling through time and space, having fun and holding his hand. All the things we used to do together. I know how much the Doctor loves coming on Earth, whatever the time and I’m hoping that someday he will notice my distress signal and come to save me from the Time Entity killing me. I’m hoping that he will fix me and help me live a normal and painless life. I’m hoping more than anything that he will come with you so I can finally see you again. Even if the sight of you hand in hand with him will kill me. Well, if I can remember you. Like I’ve said, when I’m not high, I can’t remember anything. As sad as it sounds. But I still can feel that I miss something, someone. That someone is you. My family thinks you’re a delirium, a woman I’ve created in my disturbed mind. They don’t know yet that I’m into drugs. They think it’s just the alcohol and they try to make me stop before I kill myself. But I can’t stop the drugs or alcohol because that would mean I would forget you, and that’s something I can’t bear to think about. Losing you would kill me faster than alcohol and drugs. I’m clinging to those pieces of memories, to your face and smile and gentleness. I’m clinging to the woman who saved my life, and I’m afraid that one day, I will forget you for good. It terrifies me. It would definitely kill me because I would have lost the piece of me that’s keeping me together.

Please, come back to me.

Maxence Spitz,

The Doctor you used to know before him.

My dear Rose, My brother, Tegan, finally found out I was deep into drugs. I’ve told you about him in previous letters. I’ve called him Tenny once when we were just kids and I’ve never stopped since then. I like the sound of it. I think he does too. He would have asked me to stop if he didn’t like it, right? Tenny’s a cool guy. He’s been worried about me when I disappeared. Well, that’s how he’s calling it, ‘me disappearing’. I didn’t disappear. It’s just that when the Doctor used my body, I couldn’t stay around my family. I had to accept the great responsibilities I was suddenly given and adopt the Doctor’s way of living. When I regenerated, I should have come back to my family. But, as you know, it didn’t happen. Anyway, like I’ve told you long ago, the drugs and alcohol helped me to remember my past as the Doctor, my past as a patient in that living hell. Without it all, I know that I will forget you and everything we’ve lived together. I don’t mind losing the memories of Nash torturing me but I’m terrified at the idea of losing you. You are the best thing to have ever happened to me, in my human and my alien life. Before I was the Doctor, I was just an insignificant human with no purpose in life. I was just going from small job to small job, trying to survive the best I could in that cruel world. Becoming the Doctor made me realise there was so much more in life. Part of the vortex is still in my mind. So is the Doctor’s knowledge. I could do anything. But Nash took that away from me. Today, I’m back to my miserable condition. It’s even worse since I feel the need of swallowing those drugs and alcohol to handle it all. If you could see me, you wouldn’t recognise me. My own brother and mother could not even recognise me when I was found in the streets after I escaped Nash’s hospital. And now? They have seen that something wasn’t right, and Tenny found my secret, my guilty pleasure. He keeps asking me why. What should I reply? That I’m clinging to the memories of an extraordinary life? Clinging to the memories of the only woman I’ve ever loved? He wouldn’t understand. Neither would my mother. I don’t like the idea of hurting them, but I need those drugs. I’d lost myself into the madness and nothingness of a normal life. Without you. Are you even alive, my Rose? I’ve never had the courage to go to the Powell Estates or to go to the TARDIS whenever I hear it in town. I don’t know what would hurt the most: seeing you happy with another man than me or knowing you’ve died because I’ve been too weak to protect you.

Forgetting you when I’m sober feels like losing a part of myself,

Maxence.

My dear Rose, I had one of those dreams again. I’m not sure if it was a dream or an hallucination created by my sick brain. I’m so close to the overdose, but I don’t care. I need to feel close to you, and that’s the only way I can do that. I sometimes turn around to catch your hand, only to see that you’re not here anymore. The Wolf makes sure to help me remember you the best it can. It plays the memories of you, and it definitely warms my heart. But, about that dream, or whatever it was: I was walking to some job appliance I knew I wouldn’t get, and it was raining. You should have seen me, stuck in that penguin suit, all neat and tidy. You would have laughed. I looked so ridiculous. I had an umbrella and I was walking quickly. And I heard you. You said my name. Not my human name. ‘Doctor’. You called me ‘Doctor’ with that accent of yours, that accent from the Estates I loved. I turned around and you were standing there, facing me, completely damp. And I had a heart attack. Well, I think I did because, for a moment, my heart stopped beating, and when I started walking towards you, you turned around and ran away. I ran after you, completely forgetting the job appliance, but I ended up losing you. And losing myself in the process. I was left standing there, in the middle of a crowded place. I’ve let go my umbrella, or it has been stolen, and I was getting soaked. It was the least of my troubles. You were nowhere in sight, and my heart was bleeding. What could I do? What was I supposed to do after that? I lost my mind. Losing you was the worst thing that could have ever happened to me. Can you see it? Can you see the waste I am from where you are? With him, or anywhere else, with anyone else? I’ve woken up in an unsanitary toilet booth, my tie around my arm, and a syringe in my vein. I was coming back from a bad trip and coming down was hard. Violent. If it hadn’t been for the Wolf, I would never have made it back home and would have died there. Well, die. I can’t even die anymore. I’m an immortal now, half-human, half Time Lord, condemned to see everyone dying while I carry my burden to the end of times. Sometimes, I regret my life as the Doctor. I wouldn’t have met you, but it would have been the best. For you, and for me. It was extraordinary to be him, but no one, no Time Lord has ever thought that the dying Doctor could be reincarnated, sent back in his previous body with his memory. The memories of his current life and the memories of his extraordinary life among the stars. It tends to create a destabilising ability to fall into a certain dissociative identity disorder. Mine has been created by Nash who also erased the Doctor from me. But you can’t accept and understand the Wolf without the Doctor. She has broken me.

Please, come and save me.

Maxence.

Rose, Today, the Wolf gave me a glimpse of your life and it totally infuriated me! How could your mother have sent you in that institute in Peckham? Doesn’t she know that it’s closed to the public? That there is no patient in there, except for the underground prisoners? There’s perception filter all around the place so no one will have the idea of taking a look inside and see what is happening. I was ready to come and save you before it’s too late but the Wolf locked me in its golden cage. It said that it was meant to happen, that we will meet again when the right time will come. And I have to live with the thought of you as a prisoner of the demonic Nash, knowing that she will torture you as well as she tortured me. I’ve only written bits of it in my previous letters, but I never went into details. I could never have. It was too terrible. But I guess you ought to know now. My memories are a blur because the Wolf has erased them to protect me but when I drink, when I’m high, I forget my human identity and I’m back to the person you used to know. My memories come back to me. You come back to me. I think it’s time now, time to tell you what I’ve been through with Nash, with that hospital that is nothing more than a prison for exceptional beings like us. I don’t know who is the real boss of the place. I’m sure to have seen or heard that person, but I can’t remember it clearly. All I know is that Nash isn’t the real boss even if she pretends to be. There’s someone above her, above all the staff. He or she is manipulating everyone in that place and making them believe that they’re doing something good, that they’re taking a part in some scientific experiments. Not quite the truth. The place is really a centre of researches. I can’t deny that. I’ve seen too many of them when I was the Doctor to recognise one when I’m facing it. However, it’s the first time I saw a human centre of researches so advanced in alien technology. There are rooms full of human torture devices and there are those hidden rooms where they collect alien artefacts and boxes full of reports of alien appearances on Earth and about the aliens they caught over the years, but also about the tests they’re running and the results they get. I saw it all in my numerous attempts to run away from the place. There is one way since I’m out now. But it took me so much time to find it. Every time I was about to succeed, Nash appeared out of nowhere and threw me back in my cell. That was my life in her hospital. Not so different from my life as the Doctor, heh? But so much more dangerous. If it wasn’t for the Wolf, I would be dead by now. I wish I could tell you more but I’m coming down and memories are fading away from me. Tegan will be there soon. I gotta be clean. And forget you.

I’ll forever love you,

Maxence.

To be continued...

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#doctor who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #doctor x rose #dwfic #the fallen

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younganonymus · 5 years

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Drugs

I want to do drugs.

i want to go on heroine, cocaine, crystal meth and everything else that can turn out deadly.

But I do not want tu use them to cease my mind or something, but to go on an overdose.

I really wanna die!!!

I can not stop thinking. About anything.

And it makes me crazy.

I've been thinking about the days I had with my ex, I've been overthinking the time SHE broke up, even when she prefers to say WE DID together, but I never wanted this, I've been thinking about last year and what the hell I screwed up most, I've been thinking about people's mind and how to please them, I've been thinking about so many girls especially I feel guilty for only knowing them, because it sounds awful and makes me look like a cougar something, but mostly it is just because I NEED attention or a partner to talk to, but on the other side I don't want any attention, because it only makes things bad.

I've been thinking about my so called mental iplnesses and how I can hide them, I've been thinking about a new and better personality which I hopefully can hold for the rest of my life, I've been working hard just accomplish some compliments I never get, I've been saving AND spending money I never had, I've been boring and annoying people I know, I barely know and people I don't know, just by existing.

I even tried to help so many people but all I get is a simple “Thank you!” just because of manners.

And I don't even blame them.

I blame myself for still trying to impress someone. I hate myself for acting the way I do, for my behavior, my thoughts, my smells, my outward appearance, my way of looking, my dumb sentences, my stupid hobbies, my bad taste of music.

And most of all, I hate where I live, where I have been born and for whom I am a family member to.

Because I can't stand the fact that literally nobody likes me and literally everybody hates me over here and I totally hate my familly, especially my father, because he let me grow up with tons of animals and made me like country music. Probably he is the reason why I like nature so much too. And I know it seems to be something nice, but not in this society, not in this world!

And EVERYBODY who ever came to see me or my animals/little farm never cane back because they either have met my father and his bad behavior and/or because they were overwhelmed by the chores which come up with such a place.

So now I am here, lying on a sofa, thinking about stabbing myself, hanging myself, piercing myself and still hoping to somehow find one day someone I can talk to. Talk to in person, watching stuff togehter, kidding around, maybe even snuggling, but this will NEVER EVER hapoen to me again, because people can't stand the way I act, behave, talk and especially not how I think.

Because sooner or later she (Yeah, I hope for this person to be a woman, take it and leave it.) maybe will recognize something about my baddest and darkest parts of my mind and that day she will never ever look at me the way she did before.

You don't believe me? Then please feel free to explain to me why no one ever stayed in contact after they found out the tiniest bit of my mind.

And even if you're sure you would know me just because you have read my posts, doesn't mean anything!

Here on tumblr I just post the most neutral or positive things, not the dark stuff.

And that's just one of the reasons why I don't trust therapies or medicines, because they already told me due to a weekend of analyzation it takes years to make me behave kinda normal in society, but I haven't even told them anything important in my head, just the obvious things and only things they asked me about.

And I am sorry to everyone who has read so far, but I am pretty sure no one ever will read rhis anyway and I am also sure if it would bother you, you could have told me so.

So don't take me for granted being here, I might no longer be.

i started searching for a relapse again.

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yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy · 5 years

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Magic and Miracles and BEYOND Chapter 3

aaaaaahhhhhh, do you know how LONG and HARD I had to look for that picture of Jon Campling?! Like the man keeps his hair to the small of his back. His hair is more glorious than mine. But seriously, that’s like the closest picture I can find of him to what I invision in my head, now just imagine the hair being cut and styled how it was in Kingsglaive but with a lot less gray, like more black in his youth because remember- he doesn’t have a ring sapping his youth and strength, he just has kids, draining his youth with their shenanigans, it’s debatable which is more tolling and taxing on him. That super yacht is actually the Serene, it’s glorious and I’m totally diving into the fantasy aspect of this fic because this is me indulging myself. Pry it from my cold dead hands.

My apologies to everyone who has familes touched by drugs (including mine but thankfully not in my immediate family) and heads up because this touches on that a little.

Yo- @the-immortal-marshal GURL. I had to pull the trigger. I had to. I’m sorry. And I’m just...so sorry. For all those reading this and going...why are you sorry? It’s fine? JUST WAIT. It’s not going to be fine for long. A storm is a BREWIN.

AO3 or below and Tumblr- keep being cool and keep this under a cut. Be a Bro man. Don’t let me down.

Magic and Miracles and BEYOND

Chapter 3

“So let me get this straight, you got this super yacht for going on one date with an Arab billionaire?” Crowe asked as she drank her super-food smoothie with extra ripe pineapple as the group sailed to the Caribbean.

“Uh huh- granted it was a week long “date” spent in Dubai at the demand of my mother but yeah.” Sylva nodded as she sipped her own drink with a smug grin.

“Damn,” all the girls exclaimed.

“Oh and my super jet? That came from a Russian billionaire, when it came to the states, it had a case of beluga caviar in a secret compartment in the hold to get it past customs. I ate so much of it because it was only good for two weeks, I thought I was going to be sick and couldn’t eat it again for months. And that was another week long “date” spent in Moscow also at the demand of my mother.” Sylva revealed.

“Holy fucking shit.” All the girls giggled except for Selena, Luna and Stella who just shook their heads.

“Hey, I’m not saying my parents pimped me out, but they totally tried and I can only hope my mother is rolling in her grave now. So if anything I’ve earned both putting up with those guys for as long as I did and the moment I got back from Moscow because Dubai and Moscow were consecutive weeks and before Dubai I spent a week between China and Tokyo going on even more “dates” with even more billionaires but that is besides the point. Anyway, my point is, I came home in the jet and drove straight to Regis’ house and fucked him so hard neither of us could walk straight to make up for my three week absence and nothing pushes you towards your true love quite like spite for your own gold digging parents, in particular my mother, it makes me so happy to see you wear her most prized pieces girls.” Sylva cooed to Selena, Luna and Stella as Selena giggled and touched her necklace as her own grin grew as Lunafreya and Stella just shook their heads and touched their own jewelry too. Between Sylva, Lunafreya, Selena and Stella they had divided up Agnes’ jewelry between them with Sylva getting the vast majority of it but Agnes’ favorite pieces that Sylva hated because she always felt her mother loved them more than she loved her, went to the three younger girls and Samantha as well to spite Agnes- with the promise that none of the girls would ever sell or give the jewelry away, simply pass it down to the next generation because the Anders line rightfully died with her and Sylva would be damned if the Nox Fleuret line ever would.

“So if any of you think that your parents are being unreasonable, or impossible, at least your parents aren’t nearly as bad as mine were.” Sylva cautioned all the girls.

“That’s so fucked up.” Crowe just shook her head.

“Well, what’s worse, your parents or Tredd’s mother?” Stella posed as Sylva and the other girls grimaced and hissed.

“Ooh, yikes, that’s a tough one.” Sylva had to admit. “How is she doing?” Sylva asked Stella.

“Well the day after Tredd proposed, Ted went looking for her and found her strung out at a crack house and put her into rehab that’s also a psyche ward, so it’s touch and go. If they can manage to get her on the right meds and with the right therapy, it’ll help but I don’t know if she’ll take to it or not.” Stella sighed tiredly.

“But she also has to want to get better for the right reason. Does she know about your trust fund? Because I’m worried that will be the only reason she gets better.” Sylva cautioned.

“Oh that worries me too and so far Tredd has forbidden his dad from telling her and won’t tell her either, he doesn’t want her around me and he’s mad at his dad for finding her to begin with. I think he would rather she die of an overdose than be a thieving leech on him and his dad again.” Stella answered. “I think for Ted, he sees me and Tredd together and doing well and it reminds him of what him and Shyanne used to be and he wants that again and misses that.” Stella ventured.

“If he’s that lonely there’s a lot of women he could be introduced to.” Sylva reminded her niece.

“Oh I know, Tredd and I both have offered but he’s not having it, it’s all or nothing with him.” Stella shrugged.

“Well here’s to hoping she stays off of meth, crack and alcohol.” Sylva clinked her glass with Stella’s as the two shared a meaningful look.

“Same.” Stella snorted a laugh.

“I heard my name.” Tredd pointed out as he came up behind his fiance and stole a sip of her drink as he laid a hand over her shoulder and fingered her necklace teasingly as if he was itching to take it off of her but Stella knew that Tredd was only teasing- that he actually wouldn’t do such a thing. Part of his asshole behavior in the beginning had been bravado to cover up his own insecurity because he felt he knew that she was too good for him and if he was an ass enough, it would drive her away. Much the same way Stella liked to be a brashy bitch to drive nice guys away because she, deep down, didn’t think she deserved them even though her behavior spoke of entitlement, she was surprisingly not and once they both saw each other for what they really were and cut through each other’s bullshit, it only helped them fall in love with each other even if they felt they still needed to put on a show for appearances, when they were alone and by themselves with each other, they felt safe enough to be vulnerable with each other and really show their true colors and realize what a pair they made and how they were actually good to and for each other.

“We were talking about your mom, Mom was asking about her.” Stella said as she gestured to Sylva.

“Fucking bitch.” Tredd grumbled before he really started sucking Stella’s drink down.

“Why don’t you get your own if you like it this much?” Stella teased him.

“Because I’m not a pussy, but it’s really fucking good.” Tredd answered as all the girls rolled their eyes.

“Well I hope your mom can make a recovery and sobers up.” Sylva offered sweetly.

“Yeah you’re the only one.” Tredd played off. “So anyone want to change their bets on Lil Mama?” Tredd asked, quickly changing the subject.

Meanwhile Cor was meeting Clarus for a drink after work.

“You gotta help me.” Cor pleaded as they both sat at the bar as Clarus raised a curious brow.

“With?” Clarus asked warily.

“You gotta let me go on a drug bust or serve a warrant or something. I’m going insane.” Cor confessed. “I haven’t left my desk in months, I go to get coffee from the shop down the street and I fantasize about some idiot knocking over the joint while I’m there or I go to the bank and I fantasize about someone robbing it while I’m in it. Like I’m looking over the bar and hoping someone gets drunk and will start a fight right this second.” Cor revealed and Clarus could only shake his head as Sylva’s words washed over his head.

“Well part of being settled down means actually liking the peace and quiet.” Clarus teased and Cor just whimpered and laid his head on his folded arms.

“Gradual peace and quiet! Not all at once!” Cor argued and Clarus just snorted a laugh and continued to shake his head. He could practically hear Sylva’s sing song tone of ‘I told you so’.

“Fine, if something comes up, I’ll let you know.” Clarus agreed.

Meanwhile back at home Ada eased into bathtub, she had splurged and got a little island getaway candle and a bath bomb and a sugar scrub for her skin and a deep hair conditioning mask and next to the bathtub sat a drink made out of some tropical blend juice spiked with whiskey, it was the closest to a tropical drink she could manage and enjoyed her night in alone. She dropped the bath bomb in and watched it swirl and dissolve in the hot water as she sipped her drink as she breathed in the scent of the little candle next to the tub. While she felt jealous of all her friends, at least she could do this for herself. Being furious with Cor over New York had only lasted a couple of days and it was broken by some amazing makeup sex before she groaned when she realized she forgot to pick up her birth control from the pharmacy again. She had been late getting it last month and now she was late getting it again this time. She had such a fickle memory lately.

She quickly shrugged it off and just as the bath bomb fully dissolved, her phone went off and she huffed and got it and saw all the pictures of Crowe and all her friends back on Sylva’s yacht before Crowe sent another picture of another ultrasound picture. She could see Luche in the background, talking with Tredd, Libertus, Nyx, Ravus and Pelna and smiling and still looking handsome as ever while Crowe was with all the girls, Sylva, Stella, Selena and Luna all wearing diamond necklaces and drinking proper island drinks. It wasn’t fair. Ada felt tears prick at her eyes before they fell from her eyes and down her cheeks. She sniffled and turned the phone off and tried to get back into the groove of her bath as she washed her hair then put the deep conditioning mask on it and then shaved her legs and underarms before scrubbing her skin with the sugar scrub then when she was done with that she took a foot file and tried to take off all the calluses from her feet. Being a waitress and being on her feet all the time meant her feet were tired and achy and often blistered if not callused.

When she was done the candle’s scent overpowered her nose and she blew it out before she started chugging her own drink again and before she knew it the drink was gone, the water was turning cold, the candle was out and her hair needed to get rinsed and instead of feeling refreshed, she felt even more frustrated...with everything. She laid back and rinsed the conditioning mask out of her hair and once she was done she sat back up and drained the tub and got out, putting a towel around her and got dressed and went to bed early after plugging in her phone again. Baxter jumped up on the bed and snuggled with her as she fell asleep.

In her dream she was back in the tea shop with Luche sitting across from her, pouring her a cup of tea, in a suit again and looking particularly handsome while she felt raw and compromised internally.

“I’ve missed you.” Luche finally said.

“You’ve been too busy to miss me.” Ada gently argued as she took the tea cup and drank from it again, the warmth of the tea cup warming her hands as the tea and his presence seemed warmed her soul.

“No I haven’t, it’s impossible for me to be too busy to miss you.” Luche countered with a gentle grin as he picked his own tea cup back up and sipped it.

“Are you sure you’re not missing something really important back at the office right now?” Ada questioned.

“Nope, I don’t deal with anything that’s life or death, whatever is there can wait until whenever I get back, you’re way more important than any paperwork I could do.” Luche insisted, his gentle grin turning reassuring and Ada felt warmed by the sentiment and she could tell he wanted to say more but forced his mouth to stay shut and let her have a moment of peace but part of her wanted to hear whatever he would say.

“What?” Ada asked, hoping that would help him say whatever he wanted or needed to stay.

“I’ve only ever wanted you. So anything I can do to spend time with you, no matter what the cost is- is something I’ll always do if it’s for you.” Luche finally spoke, his voice dropping to a low murmur so that he wouldn’t draw attention to them. But the look in his eyes brought tears to hers. The words were eating their way out of her throat as she stood as Luche did the same and came into his arms as he hugged her tight.

“I’ve only ever wanted you too. I love you.” Ada heard herself sniffle into his chest as she felt so safe and warm in his arms again. Like nothing could hurt her, like nothing could even disappoint her either.

“I love you too, let’s get out of here.” Luche proposed and Ada nodded before he kissed her and then Ada woke up with a start which woke Baxter up who started licking her tears away just as Cor came home from the bar and Ada quickly got control of herself again.

“Hey, you’re still up.” Cor grinned when he came into the room and noticed her sitting up in bed and petting Baxter.

“No, you woke me up when you came home.” Ada teased with a grin, praying her face didn’t betray her.

“Oh I’m sorry.” Cor apologized as he stripped out of his clothes and put his badge and his gun on the bedside table before he crawled into bed with her. “Well I’ll help put you back to sleep then.” Cor offered as he brought her into his embrace. “Wow, your skin is really soft.” Cor noticed as he smelled her hair as he kissed the crown of her head and touched the small of her back.

“Thanks, scrubbed it during my bath.” Ada smiled, pleased that he noticed and rewarded him with a kiss and soon that kiss led to another and a touch led to a caress and before either of them realized they were having soft, sweet sex with each other and when they were done, Cor noticed a little bit of blood on his shaft.

“Did you start your period Love?” Cor asked as he got a tissue to clean himself off with.

“Oh, I must have.” Ada blinked in surprise. “I feel like it’s early.” Ada muttered to herself as she got up and got a pad into her underwear.

“Well it’s always better to be early than it is to be late.” Cor joked and Ada laughed.

“I know right?” Ada grinned as she climbed back into the bed to rest and relax and really fall asleep.

Meanwhile back on the yacht.

“Why were you girls talking about Shyanne?” Tredd asked as he helped take the necklace off and put it away so himself and Stella could get ready for bed.

“Oh Mom was telling us the story of how she got the yacht and the jet.”

“Because her mom was the baddest pimp of them all, yeah.” Tredd nodded which got Stella to laugh.

“And she was telling us to be grateful our moms are nothing like that.” Stella added.

“And let me guess, you just had to drag Shyanne into it and go- ‘actually no, Tredd’s mom is much worse’.” Tredd surmised.

“Sorry if I embarrassed you.” Stella apologized softly as she hugged him and held him tight as he in turn clung to her and kissed the crown of her head. “I can promise you that I’ll never touch any of that.” Stella swore. “And just because she’s that way doesn’t mean you’ll ever be that way. I know we would beat the shit out of each other if we ever tried.” Stella lightly teased which got Tredd to crack a grin and huff a laugh through his nose as he continued to just hold her for a long while.

“So would you draw me like one of your French girls Jack?” Tredd teased as he let go of her and playfully tried to put the diamond necklace on himself which got Stella to crack up laughing.

“Yes I would.” Stella cackled.

“Show it to me when you’re done!” Crowe teased through the wall as Tredd jumped and panicked and threw the necklace back into case as Stella nearly went to her knees she started cracking up as she heard Crowe cackle a laugh too.

“Fucking go to sleep! Your knocked up body needs it!” Tredd spat at the wall as Stella was in tears and literally had to go to her knees, holding her sides and laughing her ass off as she could only imagine Crowe was in a similar state on the other side of the wall as Tredd got the necklace and made sure it wasn’t damaged before he put it back properly. “Or do I have to fuck Stella against that wall again?” Tredd threatened.

“Go to sleep! All of you! God!” Luche yelled through the other wall.

“Shut the fuck up and keep fapping!” Tredd yelled back at Luche.

“Fuck you!” Luche groaned before Tredd picked Stella up off the floor and pinned her to the wall between their room and Luche’s and started fucking her hard just to prove a point before Luche groaned again and left his room to go find refuge somewhere else but every room he passed he could hear every other couple being intimate which only made him more frustrated before he got to the couch in the main lounge and collapsed onto that before pulling a throw onto himself as he continued to grumble to himself, if Ada was here and back with him, he wouldn’t give a fuck because he’d be fucking her against the wall too. This wasn’t fair. Everyone else was with the love of their lives and he was in a constant state of anguish because his was still with someone else. Maybe he should have pushed Sylva to introduce him to her nieces. But at the same time Ravus kept reassuring him that if he was patient enough, that Ada would come back to him. He just had to be patient and endure this for now. He could do that. He had to. Now he understood what Ravus felt like when Selena had been with Pelna. If Ravus could wait for Selena, he could wait for Ada and they’d be just as happy too.

#Magic and Mracles and BEYOND #aaahhhhhhhhh

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booklife4life · 3 years

Text

Review: Oona Out of Order!

At A Glance

Genre: Fiction; Science Fiction; Contemporary; Fantasy

Love Triangle/Insta Love?: Slight obsession with a lover

Cliff Hanger: nope.

Trigger Warnings: Major drug usage; Major alcohol usage

Rating: 4 Stars

Score Sheet

All out of ten

Cover: 7

Plot: 8

Characters: 5

World Building: 8

Flow: 7

Series Congruity: n/a

Writing: 7

Ending: 8

Total: 7

Major issues: The freaking main character was super obsessed with how she looked, was fat shaming her self, and was overjoyed when she was skinny, i hated how she thought that way, like you are traveling through time, you shouldn't give two poops what you look like!

Best Part: I really enjoyed when Oona was in Asia, and all the details explained there, also all the references to things i grew up with or some things i legit wish where the way they were now.

Worst Part: Oona was hella selfish

Overall Feels Felt: Dude i would have so much time to read and do literally whatever i wanted, Oona didn't even scratch the surface

Conclusion

Continuing the Series: n/a

Recommending: yep!

Final Thoughts: You know when someone askes you about what kind of super powers you would want, i have a new one, randomly go through life, granted it didn't go so well for our main character but i think i could do a bit better. Speaking of main character, Oona needed to calm down a bit, she didn't want to even try to listen to Kenzie when he was explaining things to her, she just ran away, then turned to drugs, i really don't know how she didn't die from overdose or have some major issues later in her life (or maybe she did, but we never saw it, i really want more books to show the other years). She was so freaking selfish when it came to seeking out Dale then what happened to Dale, then not leaving letters for her next jump then getting shitty when she arrive to no letter, like what, you can't be like eff future me, then instantly jump to "what the eff past me", THEY'RE ALL YOU. At least she stuck to watching her money and making sure she didn't eff that part up, but then that kinda of just comes off selfish as well, like she couldn't imagine living a poor person life so she did the bare minimum to make sure that didn't happen.

SPOILERS

I HATED how she went about seeking out Makenzie when she found out she had a kid, like you knew what would happen to him, you knew he would find you at some point, you know he needs to have a loving family right now since they're about to die, but nah you just went in there and EFFED up everything. why would you ever think that taking him to a concert was a good idea, like how can you think that would ever work, and all you did was dye your hair to hid your identity from his moms, you didn't cover your MASSIVE TATTOO WITH HIS FREAKING INITIALS ON IT. Also why would you stay with the husband that you divorce the year after, you know it was going to end badly, you knew you weren't happy, you knew you could just walk away and save you money and heartache but you just didn't, but then when you were mad at your mom, you ruined her relationship without a second thought, again, hella SELFISH.

#book review

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eldritchsurveys · 3 years

Text

1031.

5k Survey LXXV

3826. Why do most people associate being spiritual or connected to the world as being a hippy? >> Okay, so the first 25 questions in this section were all specifically about LOTR The Two Towers, for some reason? I’m not interested so I just skipped them entirely and am smushing the remaining 25 questions in this part into the other 50. Whatever. Anyway, because that’s the stereotype they’ve internalised, idk. Looking down on non-materialistic worldviews is a common modern pastime in the Western world, just in general. (Not that being a hippie is inherently a negative or stupid thing to be, but that’s definitely the sort of context this stereotype is going for.)

3827. Why is passion and honest emotion equated with hallmark cards? >> I feel like my answer to this would just be similar to my answer to the previous question. These ideas don’t necessarily have the same root, but they’re definitely related. 3828. What words set off alarms in your brain (for me it's anarchy, pagan, etc)? >> *blinks* Certainly not those words. Usually it’s words like, idk, “American values” and “lizard people”... 3829. Are you dancin in the dark? >> No. 3830. Name 2 things you have never done in public: >> I’ve never done the Charleston or the Riverdance in public.

3831. If you had to choose out of what you just named, which one WOULD you do in public? >> I don’t even know how to do those dances, which is part of the reason why I’ve never done them in public. 3832. Challenge yourself. Do whatever it is in public. Why not? What are you so terrified of? >> ... 3832. Is hell REALLY other people? >> The actual context of that quote is so much more interesting than seeing people using it as some kind of antisocial mantra. 3833. Or would it be more hellish to live totally without other people? >> We’re all aware that humans are social creatures, correct? Just making sure. 3834. Leggos or linkin logs? >> I had Lincoln Logs as a kid but not LEGO. 3835. What books have you read more than once? >> I’ve read The Fountainhead three times. 3836. Do you get different things out of reading a book a second time a year or more after reading it the first time? Is it because you are a different person after time passes? >> Yeah, I do, and yes, that’s why -- but first I have to convince myself to read a book more than once. My to-read list is so long all the time and then I learn about yet another interesting-sounding book and jump on that and the cycle never ends... it feels like a waste of time to go back and read books I’ve already read. Even though I know that’s not a logical way to think at all. 3837. The person who goes to ____ is not the same person who comes back. Fill in the blank with anything you think fits. >> Whatever. 3838. Quick! Empty your brain here! >> ... 3839. What's the best movie soundtrack? >> I’m partial to Clint Mansell soundtracks, personally. 3840. Tissues with or without aloe? >> I rarely even use tissues, but when I do, I’m not terribly precious about what kind they are. I just use whatever Sparrow bought. 3841. Are you on any medication? >> No. 3842. Does any part of your own body disgust you? If yes, isn't that odd? What could have caused that feeling of disgust with your own body? >> Having a body disgusts me, overall. Yeah, I’m not fond of the relationship I have with my body either, but it’d be one hell of an uphill battle to reprogram my brain to not think I’m gross. I’m doing my best, all right. 3843. Want some popcorn? >> No. 3844. What if Atlas shrugged? >> I imagine he’d do it in far less time than it takes to read that book. 3845. Who has led the most interesting life? >> ... 3846. What movies are comming out next year that you are looking forward to? >> Ha, what movies are coming out next year... that’s the question, innit. 3847. If someone is half man and half dog is he his own best friend? >> --- 3848. Paper or plastic? >> I usually get plastic bags. 3849. Why did things make sense in childhood, but they don't now? >> What things? 3850. Is it crazy time? >> --- 3851. If there is a lotto with 50 numbers, and a player picks 6 numbers without repeating any, what are their chances of getting all 6 winning numbers? >> I don’t know, dude.

3852. If there were no laws and no rules name 3 things you would do that you don't/wouldn't/can't do now? >> --- 3853. It's a costume party. What will your costume be if the theme is: the 70's? 80's? under the sea? 3854. Have you ever wanted to release the lobsters from those tanks in restraunts and put them back in the sea? >> Nope. 3855. How funky is your chicken? How loose is your goose? >> --- 3856. What's your favorite animal out of these: emu, otter, duck billed platypus, moose, skunk? >> Otter. 3857. priest, rabbi, or other religios leader, a judge, or a sea captain to perform your wedding? >> We had a nondenominational minister for ours. I’m sure we would have rather have gone with someone who wasn’t any flavour of Christian, but going through the French Quarter Wedding Chapel kind of was a path of least resistance. It’s hard to plan a wedding from a completely different part of the country than the place it’s being held, and the Chapel did a lot of the legwork for us. 3858. Do you think that it's okay for people to write their own wedding vows? >> What on earth would possess me to think otherwise? 3859. Rank these as places to be married. 1 = best. Your House or Yard The Beach A Park Disneyland A Forest A Catering Hall Las Vegas A church or temple A Courthouse On a Boat On a Space Station 3860. The Earth is doomed. A giant asteroid is headed our way. It will decimate the planet in 3.2 days. You and your family own a space pod and you have room for 7 people from the list below. Everyone else dies. Who do you pick? Orlando Bloom, Justin Timberlake, Joan Jett, John Denver Baby Eve (the first human clone), Jennifer Lopez, Johnny Depp, George W Bush, David Bowie, Charleton Heston, Ralph Nader, Moby, Jeff Bridges, Kelly Osbourne, Frank Zappa, Bill Clinton, Britney Spears, Osama Bin Laden The Pope, Eminem, Madonna >> *longsuffering sigh* 3861. Rank the following dead people in order of who you would like to spend the day with. 1 = you'd like to hang out with them the most. Joan of Arc Groucho Marx John Lennon Joey Ramone Anton Levay Tupac Jack Kerouac Aaliyah John F Kennedy Lucielle Ball Jim Morrison 3862. If you could grant immortality to one person you know (can't be yourself) who would you give it to? >> I don’t want to grant immortality to anyone. 3863. If you could grant immortality to one person who you do not know personally but know of (writer, politician, etc) who would you give it to? >> --- 3864. Name a person you love: Name a person you admire: Name a friend: Name a relative: If you had to condemn one of them to death to save the lives of the others who would it be and why? >> Just... not even going to touch this one. 3865. Would you rather be one of Santa's elves or a dentist? >> What... 3866. When you first meet people what do you talk to them about? >> There’s no one specific thing that I talk to people about... it’s obviously dependent on many factors (at least one of them having nothing to do with me). 3867. You have been invited to a party with any sports team in the world. Which one? >> No. 3868. Finish the sentances. In a world where: He was: She was: Together, they were: Why do so many movie trailers start off by saying 'In a world..'? >> I had a feeling this was about movie trailers, lol. I’m guessing it’s just convenient or something. (Also, that doesn’t happen much anymore. There’s a new set of trailer tropes now.) 3869. Make up a superhero with really unhelpful powers: >> --- 3870. A couple of days ago this guy won 14 million dollars and tried to donate 1 million to the salvation army. The salvation army turned the money down saying they didn't want dirty gambling money. Did they do the right thing? >> They did what was right from their point of view, which is a dogmatic conservative-Christian POV. 3871. If you had a spare million for charity work who would you donate it to? >> --- 3872. What's the craziest most shocking moment of rock and roll history that you can think of? >> --- 3873. Why is it that if a man kills another man in battle it's called heroic, but if he kills a man in the heat of passion, it's called murder? >> Perspective. 3874. What kind of punishment do you feel the following crimes deserve: premeditated murder? date rape? drug sales? drug use? burglery? 3875. If you could kiss anyone in the world on midnight at new year's eve, who would be the lucky one? >> ... 3876. You have just taken two sexy people prisoner because they found your hide out and you think they are spies. What do youd do: kill them, hump them or have crumpets and tea? >> What the fuck. 3877. What is your new year's resolution? >> --- 3878. Should the U.S. focus more on the threat from N. Korea or Iraq? >> --- 3879. Would you ever have plastic surgery? >> I don’t know, maybe. Mostly I just can’t afford shit like that, so the answer’s “no” by virtue of that alone. 3880. How can George Bush be considered a Christian when he a war-monger and the ten comandments say do not kill? >> Oh, you know. 3881. What is the most interesting premise for a reality tv show that you can think of? >> --- 3882. Who is the Hollywood Star next to die of a drug overdose? >> --- 3883. Do you find yourself caring a lot about online people, even if you haven't met or spoken to them off of the computer? >> Not... like, as a rule... 3884. When you hear the song puff the magic dragon what do you think? >> Weed, I guess. I don’t have any other associations with that song. 3885. Let's give you a tarot reading. Go on, ask any question: first card: the reversed high preistess. you may be expecting things to come too easily. You should be careful not to give up if they dont go your way. You're feeling a desire to escape, to withdraw into yourself. Shrug off your current lack of focus and work diligently to acheive the goals you want. second card: the reversed hanged man. You shouldnt be close-minded with your situation. There are many alternatives and possible solutions to your problems. Try something new. The last card: Justice. what goes around comes around. Seek advice on the matters at hand from elders. Do healthy things, spiritually and physically. 3886. What does 'boo' mean and how did it become a slang word of affection? >> www.dictionary.com 3887. How often do you stretch? >> Whenever I feel like it. I don’t schedule it or anything. 3888. Have you ever wished that you didn't have to be yourself? >> Yep. 3889. Would you rather wear shoes full of earthworms or a hat full of spiders? >> --- 3890. What are some things that for most people go unsaid? >> Bold of me to assume I know what most people are not saying out loud. Pretty sure mind-reading ain’t a thing. 3891. I said, 'Play me the best song in the world.' You put on: >> --- 3892. What happened last year that you would like to forget? >> --- 3893. What are you not able to do alone? >> Operate a seesaw. 3894. Do you feel more connected to earth air fire or water and why? >> Air, because I have a lot of it in my birth chart, I guess. Also, I just like space. (Both in the sense of “having physical space around me” and “outer space where all the stars and shit are”, although the latter isn’t air per se.) 3895. Which two words belong together and why: life, seawater, chocolate, blood, hair piece >> Depends on what you’re trying to reference, I guess. I can go with “life and chocolate” (obvious movie reference) or “blood and chocolate” (less obvious YA book/movie reference). 3896. If con is the opposite of pro, what's the opposite of progress? >> Yeah, we all know this joke. 3897. Have you ever wanted to meet the inspectors with the numbers for names(i.e. inspected by 36)? >> What? 3898. Who is the most thought-provoking person you know, &why? >> Me. I stay thinkin about myself. 3899. If you could change 1 thing you did in the last 24 hours, what would it be & why? >> Meh, nothing. 3900. What is the most bizarre thing you've ever done? >> I’m not sure.

#surveys #survey #5000 question survey #not for reblogging *glare*#yeah sometimes i regret still taking this survey. sue me

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emruth · 7 years

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13 Reasons Why

First off, I have not read the book yet. I’ve only watched the show. And while I am of the opinion that suicide is never an option, here’s why I understand the reasons behind Hannah's decision. Grief and guilt are some of the worst feelings in the world. And when they combine (and typically add in some depression (which is different from grief) too) and it’s a lethal force to fight. I know this for a fact. The only time I ever seriously considered killing myself was because of these three things taking over me. Here’s that story. 2008 was the worst year for me for many reasons, but the first reason was because my oldest sister (technically my half-sister: same mom, different dad) died of a brain hemorrhage after being hit from behind by a car while she was walking in January. The grief was horrible. The guilt...was overwhelming. Backstory: during the summer of 2007, my oldest sister and her son came out from Florida to live with us because her dad said she was doing drugs again and he was going to take her son. He’s a drunk so we scoffed at him and brought them out here. At first, everything was fine. She found a job and a daycare for her son since I was taking summer classes. The little bit of time I did have to watch him, she would pay me for it since I wasn’t able to get a summer job because of babysitting him. It was great. I was happy my favorite sister was there. I loved my nephew. Then one night, she didn’t come home when she should have. She said she met coworkers for dinner and made a new friend. Cool, right? Wrong. This “friend” provided my sister with access to drugs. She stopped coming home a lot. I was now watching her son alone for about 2 hours until my parents got home, but I was the one who had to put him to bed cause they couldn’t do it. I basically had a son. I was his mother. And I hated it because I was 18 and didn’t want a kid of my own at that time. Before they came to live with us, my dad had put a deadbolt on my parent’s bedroom door because in past, she stole from him. Once we realized she was doing drugs again and she started staying home from work, I had him put one on my door too because I didn’t want her stealing my stuff for drugs. I was mad. I pretended she didn’t exist and if I had to acknowledge her existence, I was horrible to her. But I was so mad because she had lied to me my whole life. And I didn’t understand why she couldn’t quit if not for me, her baby sister, but for her son, who only wanted his mom. I remember one time when my dad went to pick her up, I had her son on my lap and I was telling him to be mad at her when she got home. He was 2 1/2. He didn’t understand. He was just excited for mom to be home. It finally got to the point that I told my parents that either she had to go or I would. I had no idea where I would have gone but I couldn’t stand it anymore. So, we sent them to Michigan, where her husband lived (she was still married, just didn’t want to be anymore). Six months later, she was gone. I can’t remember the last time I saw her. I can’t remember what I last said to her. I wasn’t home the day they left because my friends and I drove up north for the weekend because they knew I needed a break. And I blamed myself for her dying. It was my fault she had been there. It was my fault she died. If I had been able to deal, she wouldn’t have been walking on the side of the highway when that unknown car drove by and hit her. Add in the grief I felt from her death. Add in the depression I fight with always. And I wanted to kill myself. I remember standing in the shower, staring at my razor, trying to think of how I could take the blade out. I remember thinking of the phrase one of my friends had taught me in regards to slitting your wrists. “You go up the road, not across the street.” There are two reasons I didn’t go through with it. One was vanity. I was naked. My door was locked. Eventually, my other sister would have had to get someone from the apartment office to unlock my door and they would find me, naked. But the bigger reason? My mom. She had just lost one daughter. How could I take another away from her? Even know, I’m still in shock that I debated slitting my wrists. I’m one of those people who has thought about suicide in a “If I did it, how would I do it?” kind of way. And I have always said I would overdose. But there I was, wanting to cut my wrists. None of my friends at the time knew I had considered it. The first time I told someone, it was in March of that year when I went to therapy because in addition to her dying, I found out my parents didn’t love each other anymore (later in May of 2008, I actually found out my dad had been cheating on my mom for 4 years). Granted, I only went to 3 sessions, with the 3rd being, “Okay, I’m fine now.” After that, I didn’t tell anyone until later that year when I made friends with someone who just let me vent everything that was going on and I told him about my grief and guilt and my suicidal thoughts. Now, I know it wasn’t my fault. If she was meant to die, she would have died no matter where she was. But I can understand where Hannah was coming from. She was depressed because it seemed everyone was against her. She felt such grief and guilt over the things she let happen and she didn’t do anything to stop or fix. She didn’t have that thought of “Who will be most affected by my doing this?” like I did when I stopped for my mom. She only saw a dark abyss and no way out except through death.

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kazakerswrites-blog · 6 years

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What is all the Talk About ANTI- Aging? PRO-Aging is the Answer!

With all of the traveling I've been doing I see a lot of different faces, in a lot of different cultures and countries. Most are NOT so obsessed with looking like they are 25. MOST are into aging gracefully, or as I like to call it PRO-AGING. Why would any of us want to ANTI-age? I know there are many people who don’t want to age. THAT is IMPOSSIBLE no matter how hard you try. That's one of those things we just have to "get over". Wouldn't you rather age than the alternative? And by the alternative, I mean death. Or is “die young, stay pretty”, the preferred option? I am extremely passionate about aging intelligently. What do I mean by that? You can age intelligently by caring for your skin, your mind, your body, your relationships, your career and your health. We have to get out of the mindset that "aging is a curse". I have seen gorgeous women (and men, for that matter) in France, Greece, Croatia, Italy, Spain, China and many other locales, who are absolutely stunning inside and out.. And over the age of 50. Or 60. Or 70. Or 80! They are living a good life, having fun, and taking care of themselves. They are loving, making a contribution to their communities, wise, knowledgeable and resilient. That is REAL beauty! I'm just one of those women who can’t wrap her mind around “anti-aging”. And it isn't just the entertainment industry that is obsessed with the clock not moving forward. It's everywhere. Is it Vanity? Fear? Ego? Insecurity? Societal pressure? All of the above? We can all spot, from a mile away, the person who has had so much work done on their face or their body that they don’t look real. And let’s face it (lol, pun intended), a 70-year-old woman with an extreme facelift still does NOT look 40. Plus, no 50 year old who has overdosed on fillers will ever look 25. Don't get me wrong I wholeheartedly support taking care of yourself. Get facials, Dermabrasion, Dermaplaning, some Botox, muscle stimulation and any of the non-invasive procedures that you fancy. Along with that exercise, eat healthy foods - be a health advocate - but going under the knife, sometimes again and again and again, seems to me to be another addiction. Is one ever REALLY satisfied after they get on that merry-go-round? Have we become such an insecure society that we only care about how others see us and that influences how we see ourselves? My West Virginian grandfather, on every one of his birthdays, would always say that he would rather be having a birthday than not! It took me a while to get there and now I feel exactly the same way. As we age, granted, everything isn’t still in its original place. We may not have what we had in our teens, twenties or thirties. However, if we really think about it most likely we have more. Some of the most inspirational people I know and observe are not in those age categories. That is not because I'm of a certain age, either. I have friends in their 20’s to their 80’s. When was it decided that only youth was beautiful? Is it a North American or western phenomenon? In my teens, twenties, and 30’s I didn’t give aging a second thought. I was too busy with my career, and in my VERY late 30's having and raising a child. The sad thing is that today those groups are getting bombarded with the notion that one tiny wrinkle or a grey hair is a fatality. AND... Keeping up with whomever is the only way to beauty or self-worth. We weren’t inundated with the products on the market today to keep us perpetually 25. When did that happen? Skin care IS important. Mostly so we don’t get skin cancer, which is a hell of a lot worse than a wrinkle. I have never met anyone who died from a wrinkle. With age comes wisdom. YES! It's CLICHÉ but it's true. Maybe wisdom doesn't come to everyone over the age of 40 but those years are life experiences and life experiences teach us. Who decided for me that my laugh lines were ugly or that my silver hair makes me old? (A guy on YouTube did last week but he was just asking for trouble online and I happened to be there.) The fact that I'm not still wafer thin makes me less than? Honestly, I'd rather be healthy and strong than skeletal. BUT the pressures I have felt and see my friends experiencing are an uphill battle. When did we lose our talent, creativity, abilities, and exuberance because we turned the corner of 40, 50 or 60? I was out one evening in Vancouver, Canada with girlfriends between the ages of 40 and 60. We were having a great time going dancing, hopping from restaurant to club, to coffee house. We were laughing and joking and having an AMAZING time. At one point in the evening, we were all crossing the street, and a group of 20 something women was crossing the street at the same time. They started pointing at us, laughing and making jokes about us. One of my friends turned around and shouted “What are you laughing at? We’re YOU in 20 years!” Well, that shut them the bleep up. If those ladies are LUCKY they will be anything like us in 20 years. We were a group of attractive, accomplished, talented, vital, vibrant and SEXY woman. We had life experience. We were walking, talking, living, breathing, oozing experience. Everywhere I go I learn something new from other women in other cultures. I love going into a European drug store to pour over the shelves of creams, notions and potions. Most which ultimately end up in my suitcase in the convenient travel size. Europe is light years ahead of us in self-care. Eating right, exercising, meditating, being grateful, making a contribution somewhere, going for it, going with the flow and making your mark (whatever that is) at ALL ages - THAT'S the ticket. It's wonderful to have older women friends to learn from and to absorb THEIR wisdom. What is NOT wonderful is to have pressure to be someone else’s idea and image of perfection. AT ANY AGE. So go ahead and use those potions and lotions (cuz soft skin feels terrific), but don’t lose sight of your beauty inside and out. Don’t let someone else tell you what is aging and beauty. (I'm also talking to the men out there, too. Pro-aging is not just for women.) Find your support system and nurture it. “Smell the roses.” ‘Grab for the gusto.” ‘Carpe diem” “Go for it.” ‘You do you.” Be YOUR best self. AND never let someone else define you - at ANY AGE! My wish for you is long and luscious PRO-aging on whatever continent you reside. As always, thanks for reading.

#aging #health #exercise #beauty #confidence

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kansascityhappenings · 6 years

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South Carolina man’s Facebook post after his brother’s overdose death touches thousands

NINETY SIX, S.C. — A South Carolina man’s Facebook post about losing his brother to opioid addiction is reaching people around the world.

Stephen Wood, of Ninety Six, made the heart-wrenching post On Oct. 26 after his 21-year-old brother Brandon died.

Wood addressed the impact of drug addition on victims and their families, and encouraged anyone battling addiction to get help.

His post read:

This isn’t easy but I want to speak directly to Brandon’s friends and enablers, and anybody else struggling with addiction.

Tuesday night I was at my grandmas house for a normal visit. My new wife and I had just gotten back from our honeymoon the day before. The phone rang and my grandma answered with a sarcastic “what.” But the mood quickly changed and I knew what the call was.

I rushed to Brandon’s girlfriends apartment where her and my mom were standing in the parking lot losing it. I kept it together pretty good until I climbed in the ambulance and looked at my little brother laying there knowing he was gone.

Yesterday I went and planned his funeral and picked out his casket.

Today I had to go look at him again and I bought a suit to wear to his funeral.

These things shouldn’t have to be done for a 21 year old.

So to his friends who are doing the same things he was. What I wanted to say to you is how badly I want you to use his life to turn yours around. It’s to late for him but there is still time for you. You think the drugs are only effecting yourself. But what you don’t know is how much it impacts everyone around you.

You don’t know how many sleepless nights I’ve had worrying about him.

You don’t know how many times he has told me he is going to beat his addiction, he won’t be a statistic.

You don’t know what it’s like to feel your stomach drop every time the phone rings, because im scared it might be about him.

You don’t know how it feels to know time is running out for him, and not being able to do anything to help.

You don’t know the guilt I feel for not doing more than I did.

You don’t know how I’ve heard every one of my relatives the last couple of days say “If I would have done this, or I would have done that, I know he would still be here.”

You don’t know what it’s like watching grown men who you thought were invincible, standing over a casket crying.

And you don’t know what it’s like to know that you’ll never be able to kick a soccer ball, play Xbox, argue over football, or any other little thing we take for granted with my brother ever again.

So Don’t let him die for nothing. Get the help you need and get clean, if not for you, then for your family. You’re not invincible, you’re time is short and as much as you don’t want to believe it, you’re next.

And to his dealers.

I want you to know how many hours brandon spent at my house crying, telling me he hates what he has become, but there was no escape. Talking about how no matter how many numbers he blocks, you people still find a way to try to sell to him and how he gave in every time.

I want you to know how hard he tried to help himself and to find help, and every time he did and got clean, you were lurking in the shadows calling his name.

I want you to know that you are murdering people for 20 bucks a pop and I hope you feel terrible about it. I can’t imagine how it feels knowing $20 is worth more to you than another persons life.

I want you to know how badly I want to take justice for my little brother into my own hands. How I know who some of you are and how much rage I feel when i look at your Facebook pages, living like nothing happened.

And I want you to know that eventually what you are doing will catch up to you.

But on the other hand I want you to know that this isn’t what you are on earth for. That if you turn your life around, there is so much you can do. Think of the people you can help. Get a real job, make your own money, do something you can be proud of.

I have so much more I want to say but that’s all I have time for right now. Thank you if you have read this far. I want to thank all of Brandon’s friends who did all you could to help him. If you’re a true friend of Brandon’s, then you’re a friend of mine.

Now reach out to anybody you know who is struggling, and do whatever you can to help, so we don’t have to lose someone else with their whole future ahead of them. It may be to late for Brandon, but don’t let him die in vain. Feel free to share, never know who it may help.

The post has been shared more than 22,000 times.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports http://fox4kc.com/2017/11/15/south-carolina-mans-facebook-post-after-his-brothers-overdose-death-touches-thousands/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2017/11/15/south-carolina-mans-facebook-post-after-his-brothers-overdose-death-touches-thousands/

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