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#realizing THAT made me want to distance myself from defining my worth through suffering
uncanny-tranny · 5 months
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The worst mindset you can labour under is the idea that your pain not only represents every person like you but that your pain also must be Meaningful - especially when applied to politics or minority groups.
It's so tempting to want to justify your pain, the injustices you faced, the abuse you endured. But by making it so that your pain is the standard, your pain will define the way you move in the world. It feels liberating in a sense, believe me. But this won't solve the issue that you have been hurt. The anger you feel at the injustice that you were mistreated isn't your fault, but it shouldn't ever be made standard. It shouldn't be the baseline of existence for anybody, including you.
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physicalturian · 3 years
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[G] Gentle summer - Rengoku Kyojuro x GN!Reader - Part 7
[Contains spoilers from the movie, and the manga] [No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18]
Words : 11 509
Archive of our own
Warning: nudity / Intimacy / Prepare some tissues
Inspired by those works : First Second Third on Twitter
— Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 -
I am seeing him again today, was the only thought running without ever stopping in my mind. Thrill and excitement were filling my entire being. That energy was put to good use by walking a lot, I barely saw time fly by. We did stop too many times for my taste, but complaining would do me no good. Instead, I was counting down the remaining distance until we reached the estate. I received a few comments from the most daring recruits, when my pace started getting too fast. Uchiyama was the recruit in question, he did not feel one ounce of fear towards me, even knowing I was his captain. He had put a hand on my shoulder and frowned. “Captain, are we in a hurry or something?” was what he had told me the time I dared speed up.
Chuckling, almost bashfully, I’d shaken my head and slowed down, “You are right, there is no rush. Should we take a break and eat?” When I heard the small voices behind agreeing, we all thought it best to settle for a while and have lunch. It did not take them long to finish their meal, even amidst their laughter and jokes. I was glad to see them so carefree after all they had been through. The look in their eyes had changed from the time they had joined the corps; they had lived through events that shaped the soul in the most awful ways, and I could see it in the absence of a glimmer in their gaze. Even with that change, I had them alive by my side and matured, it was the closest I could get to a success.
Losing myself in thoughts, I pondered more.
We had suffered losses, but what better way to mourn than to remember the good times we had and to keep living? To best honor the dead is to live a life we would define as worth it. Not to let others define it, but to feel in the depth of our core that we made the best of it, in our own way. Then again, everyone mourned differently. Takeshi and Daisuke were proof of that. The former had needed a lot of time alone; everyone had been there to support him, trying to joke around and to keep things as they were before all of it happened. Daisuke, while he kept a huge smile on his face, saw more than he should have at such a young age. He played it off, he kept his armour on, even if sorrow was written all over his face.
Many recruits were aware their friends died somehow, but they did not see it unfold in front of their eyes. But Daisuke had seen his partner get killed in front of him. It left him scarred, in the depth of his being, thatI knew from the relentless nights I spent by his side trying to calm his night terrors. Only time could help with the things he had gone through, but being with others that had lived through some of those things with him also had helped greatly. Seeing them knit-tight close was heartwarming.
It almost made me forget what was coming, what we were all getting ready for. Blinking out of my thoughts, I had come to the realization I was not participating much in the conversation.
I kept a certain distance from them when I was eating a bit further away. However, the distance was more than physical. I hated myself for doing so, but I could not let them get too close in case I lost them during this last battle. That thought crossed my mind too many times during this entire mission. Every time one of them came up to me for help, for advice, or even friendship, I would welcome them, but my heart would tell me it was a bad idea. Yet, I kept telling them to not hesitate if they needed to talk. A wrong move was the only way I would describe it, but I was their mentor, and we all needed some reassurance from time to time. I was the main provider of that reassurance, no matter how much I tried to talk sense into my actions of getting close to them.
“Captain! We should resume, I believe we just might arrive by lunch if we walk a bit faster,” Hana said enthusiastically. She helped everyone pack after I told her we could do that, adding that it would be great to have a warm meal and see everyone. I kept to myself the excitement I was feeling to finally see Kyojuro again; it was hard to do so with the little shivers I would get. The weather was far from cold, but the idea of seeing his beautiful face again, to be finally able to hold him, to enjoy more of him than that fleeting moment at the fireworks when our lips finally met, it sent energy coursing through my body.
As I was leading everyone, I could hear the loudest of my recruits talk in what they thought was a whisper, “Come on Jin, do you like the Captain? Is that why you’re all-“ Not wanting Jin to combust in embarrassment, I called out over my shoulder sternly, “Uchiyama, leave him alone. I suggest you learn the difference between admiration and love,” Pausing, I quickly added in a lighter tone, “Anyone would be amazed by my fighting skills, I could take you all in a fight,” I huffed jokingly. A few of them laughed and told Uchiyama he should keep his mouth shut, even adding that if the Captain was the one to reprimand him, he had fucked up. Seeing how everyone resumed talking merrily together, Daisuke approached me, bumping my shoulder, a bit too familiar for my taste but I let him.
“Say, you’re a bit quiet in the front. Is everything alright? You don’t seem excited to return to the estate,” Daisuke said, worry laced in his tone. His demeanor made him look smaller than he actually was, he acted shy and unsure of his movements, but all of that disappeared when he entered a fight. It was interesting to know he was the one I had seen fight with determination, with no hesitation in his motions, only raw strength capable of cutting body parts. He was the same man that had been by my side the entire month and throughout fights even as fear had overrun his body. Daisuke was a great addition to the corps and to my closer circle, even if I wanted to keep him away from me in case I lost him.
Looking at him with a playful smile, I lowered my tone and whispered, “If I may be honest with you, I am more than excited to return. However, it will not do us any good to have me all over the place,” I huffed a laugh, surprising Daisuke. A curious brow rose on his expressive face, “I’ve never seen you like this! Is there something waiting for you at the estate? Wait—is it the person you’ve been exchanging letters with?” He asked a bit too rapidly, his speech faster than usual from how thrilled he was. It made me chuckle more, my face heating up lightly, but I could blame it on the long trek we had started and not tell him I was flustered at the mere thought of Kyojuro. “It is, I have someone waiting for me,” and no words can really express how much I miss him, I thought, nodding with a chuckle.
“Can I ask who it is? I am curious now!” He asked in hushed whispers, a genuine smile adorning his features. Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes at how childish he sounded. But, it was heartwarming to see his interest, so I replied, “If you must know, it is the Fire Pillar-“ “Sir Rengoku! That is so grand! An intense man indeed, but definitely not as intense as sir Himejima, I remember my training with him…” He then started talking about his experience with Gyomei, I listened intently. For some reason, I preferred having him talk about himself than having him prying in my personal life. I still felt odd mentioning I was with Rengoku, no matter how much I loved him, simply because I was not sure people would take it well that we are having our own fun while a big battle was brewing.
I enjoyed having Daisuke talk by my side as we made our way back to the Butterfly Estate, of course I would not let him have a monologue, I would intervene and ask questions. Everyone was bantering light-heartedly behind us, which almost made the situation normal; I did not know if it was on purpose, to try to keep this faux-semblance of normality or if they were really carefree. The latter would be hard to believe, considering all they had been through recently, but I liked the idea of still having them optimistic and hopeful. How ironic.
The further we walked, the faster my heart was beating. I thought talking with Daisuke would help calm my rapidly beating heart, but all it did was embarrass me. I would sometimes stammer, my speech being faster than what it would usually be. That’s when I decided to keep my tongue in check and not speak as much as I would have liked. Daisuke did not find any inconvenience to that; I had seen his short smile the few times his gaze would look at the way my hand was clenching the handle of my sword. If I did not do that, I would have been drumming my fingers or playing with my hands from how stressed I was.
It took us a few hours of walking to finally reach the estate. Fortunately, the sun was high above our heads, meaning we had arrived around midday. It means more time with him, I thought eagerly. I had to take a deep breath to stop myself from running to the doors and tried my hardest to slow my pulse down. Everyone was chattering happily, some saying they could use a bath, others craved a bowl of rice, and I knew the quiet ones were longing for a good night’s sleep in a warm futon.
I longed for his arms. I wanted to run all around the estate to find him and throw myself at him, not caring if anyone was watching, not caring if he’d fall down. Would he be as excited as I was? Would he allow me to be this open? I am sure he would, he has never been discrete even before we officially got together, I thought with a smile.
“Captain, you can go find him if you’d like! I’ll get everyone to their room-“ “No, it’s alright. I am not that desperate,” a lie. A blatant lie. The pressure in my chest was insufferable, my insides were churning, more shivers ran down my spine with each step I took towards the mansion. If I put more thought into being aware of my entire body, I would feel how my feet were uncoordinated and my hands were clammy. Excitement was at its peak, and I knew I was more than desperate. I was aching to hold him, to touch him, to love him… “If you say so! We should hurry and get some food,” Daisuke startled me out of my thoughts.
Telling everyone to walk ahead, I made sure to secure the gate once we had stepped inside. They all seemed as excited as children on a field trip to the forest. I had a hard time feeling like that because my mind kept wandering to the thought of Kyojuro. When the recruits entered the estate, I stepped around the building and made my way to where I believed Rengoku could have been training his group. I made sure to hide my presence to not startle him and keep him focused. “One, two, three, and again! The other way, one, two, slash! Good work, good work! You are all improving greatly, I am sure we can go even further! Let’s try this again,” Hearing his voice made my heart burst with joy, but I kept my composure and leaned from behind the wall to catch a glimpse of his features.
I was caught off guard when I realized a new scar was adorning his beautiful face. While it was covered by an eye patch, I could see the pinkened skin on his cheek. All my excitement turned into panic, what had I missed? What had happened that left him like that? “You! Come here, try with me. If you manage to hit me, everyone gets a break, let’s begin!” I heard him speak loudly, his voice roaring like thunder as always. I got startled when he had called out the recruit, then realized he was not talking to me and sighed in relief.
He was smiling broadly, his hair sticking to his face as usual even if it was tied back. He did not seem to mind one bit to be lacking part of his sight and yet I could not help but feel pity. Would he want that? I do not think so, but there was no helping it. I wanted to interrupt him and talk to him aside, but seeing him training so hard, his determination unchanged and his skills just as sharp, I had to let him work.
Deciding to leave him alone until he would retire to his chambers, I turned around and was about to walk back to my recruits when my path was blocked by someone. That someone being the Sound Pillar.
“You’re back, why don’t you go talk to him?” He puffed his chest, his arms low on his stomach, hands hidden in the huge sleeves of his attire, as he looked at me with what looked like disdain. He seemed changed too; just like Rengoku, he had an eye patch. His was a lot less simple however, it was covered with little jewels. The married man was not wearing his Pillar outfit either, no. Instead, he had his hair down and had opted for a kimono that was very loose on the top, enough to show off his muscles. While I wanted to think he was showing off, the weather was warm and heavy, which could explain his attire. Trying to act casual, I shrugged, “He is busy,” I said off-handedly, looking to the side.
“See, you can’t look away now! It’s awkward enough that you’ve stared and all,” He grumbled, I quickly apologized, meeting his eyes again with a small smile. “God, you’re making this so awkward and for what?” He scoffed, annoyed, before gesturing for me to follow him with a motion of his head; as I did, I asked in all seriousness, “Do not be frustrated at me, how would you feel if when you returned from a long mission everyone had changed drastically?” The man had since calmed down and looked over his shoulder, his gaze observant and calculating. “Change is a big word, don’t you think? I like to say we were sketches, drafts, and now we are the final product, that is all.” He said, in the hopes of sounding poetic perhaps. “Each stroke is what makes the art, right? You paint over the lines you don’t like; you leave the one you feel makes it better, and sometimes when you accidentally brush over the paper, it looks great. Accidents are great.”
Offering him a slight chuckle, not really getting his metaphor, I nodded as I sat down when he did. He had guided us back inside, in one of the tea rooms and had gestured for me to pour us a cup each. I did not comment on his words. “What happened?” I asked as I brought the burning cup to my lips. It was not the greatest weather to drink such a warm beverage, but I enjoyed it, nonetheless. “You cannot ask someone how they got their scar-“ “Uzui, I am serious. Is there anyone that did not make it? Why was I not made aware of all the damage everyone had taken?” His demeanor changed greatly. While he had an air of playfulness, light-heartedness even, seconds ago, now he looked at me sternly.
Sighing, he leaned back on one hand and brought one knee closer to his chest, “The district was attacked, I am retired, nothing more,” He paused, giving me a long stare before continuing, “For the others, it happened at the swordsmith village. No one died, I think Ren took the most damage and he is doing great, as you’ve seen,” I had. I had seen how he looked, but even behind this enthusiastic attitude, I was certain he was exhausted and in pain, he had shared that at least through his letters.
I felt hurt that he had not told me about his injury, but I could not feel anger yet. He must have had a good reason to do so, and to find out I would have to talk with him. “Are you retiring with your wives or will they be continuing-“ “Of course I’m retiring with my gals! I’m just here to help train recruits, they need to be in perfect shape if they want to be able to carry my legacy,” He said with a loud laugh, I joined him in his joy with more modesty.
He had indeed not changed much, but there was still something different about him. Uzui had always been mature, as much as it pained me to admit it, but he seemed even more so now. What had he seen at the district, or perhaps had been through, that shaped him like that? I could see in his eyes he wanted all of this to be over, he wanted peace, to return to his wives’ arms and to relax. The time was nearing when he would be able to do so. And when that time comes, I will have a sunken feeling in my chest that will only be shaken off by our victory.
“You’re still stupid to not go talk to him, the man’s been blabbering without ever stopping about you,” He quirked a brow, looking at me curiously and added, “I do not know what you’ve been exchanging in those letters of yours, but it fired him up to a point where we can barely have him take a break,” Leaning forward, he took a sip of his tea then raised his index as he added “The recruits are definitely paying the price, I hope you’ll apologize to them.” A laugh of relief and joy escaped my lips upon knowing Rengoku had been encouraged by my letters. However, I did not know which part had had him in such a state; was it the dream of a peaceful life together or my lewd words? Whichever it was, a funny feeling settled in my stomach.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the small table in front of us, “I am glad it helped him as much as it helped me, I will admit it was very tense out there and-“ I paused, shaking my head, “I’m sure it is not of your interest how everything went down, so tell me,” Looking up at him again, I smiled and continued, making sure not to shove my cup with my elbow, “What made you want to retire? What happened in the district that led you to this decision?” His face turned sour, his gaze diverting to the cup he was holding for a short moment. Slowly, he set it down and looked at his lap a moment before lifting his head high once again. “This,” He spat, pulling his left sleeve to show his hand, or lack thereof. It was still bandaged, but I was not sure it was because it was still healing.
From his attitude, he seemed angry to show it, if not ashamed. What I knew was that he did not need pity, so I held back from showing shock on my face. Instead, I breathed out, “I can understand the change in career,” His face lit up in surprise, then he let out a loud laugh. “Yeah, kind of hard to fight now. But hey, that doesn’t mean I can’t please my women,” He said with a wiggle of his fingers. I had to give him a look at how vulgar it sounded. I still huffed a chuckle, “A lot of people are attracted to scars, I am sure Makio, Suma and Hinatsuru find you just as charming.”
I was taken aback when his cheeks turned redder. He tried to cover it by taking a sip from his cup, but I had seen it and found it relieving that even this loud man could be flustered from genuine compliments. “They’ve been great, I should be glad they’re not leaving,” I surprised myself when I reacted by instinct and leaned over the small table to hit the top of his head. The clutter of the cup hitting the tatami echoed, but I did not pay it any mind. “They are anything but shallow! How could you believe for even a second they would have left your side?” Seeing his eye widen in shock made me realize I had been louder than I had meant to be, and that maybe I had taken his words at heart. His situation could be compared to Rengoku’s, and if my lover had spoken those words to me, I would have reacted the same way I did right now.
“I am sorry for the outburst,” I whispered, sitting back on the pillow. “You have been through so much with them. So, even if insecurities are hard to reason with… you must realize how much they love you just from knowing they stood by your side even when you were the loudest man on earth, I would even say annoying,” I finished jokingly while still meaning every word. A change in his appearance would never erase all that they had been through together, I could only hope he would realize that.
He was looking outside while I spoke, and when I was done, he smiled sincerely, “I don’t need your speech, I am awesome, I know it,” He huffed, giving me a side look before adding, “But thank you, I am sure someone else would love to hear those words,” I knew full well who he meant, and I had planned on speaking them to him too, whether he needed to hear those words or not. If I was being honest with myself, fear was my first feeling upon seeing Kyojuro scarred, the second one was admiration and perhaps it added a charm to his bright face. A roguish look that I might become fond of without needing to put too much thought into it.
After this heartwarming talk Uzui and I had, he told me about what happened while I was away. How a lot of them almost died at the Red District, but also how they had defeated one of the Upper Ranks Six demons. From what he had told me, the fight was rough, but they had pulled through with little losses. The three young recruits that had been sent there while I was still here had pushed through and were now training with the Pillars. He briefly mentioned the fight at the Swordsmith Village, but since he was not there he only repeated what he had been told or what he had read in the reports he had been allowed to overview. He had not been able to see Rengoku’s report, but he had seen him come back, face and back bloody.
I felt sick hearing his storytelling, but kept a composed face. It was hard to fight the urge to run to Kyojuro and tell him all the things he wanted to hear, to hold him close and to reassure him. If I could, I would tell him to go back to bed and rest, I would even promise him I’d sing to him every day, every night, without ever stopping if that was what was needed to have him safe.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t. It would be selfish to do so, and he was doing great. At least, that was the façade he was showing. The truth is, I was not convinced he was alright, but Uzui’s words gave me hope that my lover was actually doing fine.
We talked for a long hour to catch up. It was enjoyable, even if we would usually bicker, we were adults and it felt great to be able to talk as such. What made us part ways was the grumble of my stomach after a while; it came with not joining the recruits for lunch.
I was told to go eat and rest, not only by Uzui but also by Sumi who had entered the tea room in case we needed anything. Dutifully, I followed their order and went to have a nice meal before going back to my room to unwind. It felt out of place reading and relaxing when people were training for a war. None had any will to take part in it, but as Gyomei said, one should not stop living in times of war.
So, relax I did.
I ended up daydreaming too many times on each page. My mind would drift off to the man I longed to embrace and caress, the one that was diligently working to improve the skills of the trainees only steps away from me. Oh, how I missed those warm days when I would practice in front of him, only to have him stand by me and touch me in innocent ways that would heat up my body in seconds.
With all the daydreaming I was doing, I decided to write my last report to focus my energy somewhere more useful before having a discussion with each of my recruits. I was able to do so since some had yet to go to sleep; those who did seemed to be sleeping peacefully from what I could see. Those who were still fully awake were talking together, trying to get their minds out of the dark thoughts that were plaguing them. They all welcomed me to their late-afternoon card games accompanied by deep conversations. It was relaxing somehow, even if we talked a little about what happened during our mission.
It all came to an end after a while when Kiyo slid open the door to the recruits’ dormitory and hurried to my side. Turning around to look at her with a confused expression on my face, she brought a hand to my ear, hiding her mouth as she whispered, “Rengoku is in his chambers, he is retiring for the night,” She stepped back, smiling happily. My face flushed rapidly, how did she know I was waiting for him to be alone to join him? Uzui was the obvious answer. Had he told the three girls to be on the lookout and to warn me as soon as he retired? Perhaps… If it was indeed the case, I could only be grateful.
I nodded, thanking her before excusing myself to the ones that had yet to fall asleep. Among them, Daisuke. He grinned broadly, “Have fun, Captain!” I threw him a dirty look that hopefully quenched his audacity, but it did nothing to help. The swordsman’s smile only widened before giving me a thumbs up. I shook my head with a scoff and a small smile before leaving.
Once I stepped outside the dormitory and made my way downstairs, I realized how quiet the estate was. It was one of those rare nights when we could hear the cicadas louder than anyone else around the place. Most of the lights were off, people had had their meal earlier than usual to go to sleep before the sun had even time to set. They were probably exhausted from training hard, and sleep must have hit them the moment their head hit the pillow, which was understandable from how intense the work they were doing was.
As I made my way around the estate, I was careful not to make a sound with my steps. I had left my getas down the stairs and had opted to walk about without them, only in my socks; it was safer if I did not want to awaken the sleeping beasts in the mansion. Some doors were open, which brought in fresh air inside, something very welcome after a long hot day. It was refreshing. Furthering my steps around, I noticed a light was still lit in Giyuu’s room. In all discretion, I went inside and blew it off. I had to hold back a chuckle when I saw he had the three most recent recruits in his room, poor thing, I thought. The demon girl that was also there was respectfully sleeping in her futon, the three others were all over one another. Only Giyuu was left far away, perhaps he knew how wild their sleep got and chose a safer spot.
I had to pause in my trek when the floor creaked under my steps. A moment passed before I could leave the room safely once I made sure they were all still asleep. The next stop was Rengoku’s room. As I approached his room, I hesitated for a moment to call it our room in my head, it did feel nice to call something ours. Huffing to myself, I looked ahead and saw the flickering of the light inside; it was a relief to see he was not asleep, it meant I could catch up with him.
Choosing not to knock, I stepped inside. To my surprise, he was not there. His haori was laying on the ground, but he was nowhere to be found. The worst scenario came to mind as I considered the idea that he had been taken; with heavier steps, I looked around only to see him sitting outside on the veranda. A sigh of relief left my lips; seeing him after so long made my heart soar and left me frozen on the spot for what felt like ages until I found the strength to step closer to him. Calling his name softly I had hoped he would turn around, but he was left unmoving.
It was surprising to be able to catch him off guard, but I jumped on the opportunity and made my way to him. I stepped down the small step separating the veranda and the grass to stand in front of Rengoku’s sleeping form. His arms were crossed, his usual determined frown had left his face, leaving him relaxed and soft-looking. Oh, I had missed him so much.
His eyepatch was on his lap, and by his side were some paper, a pen and ink. His dominant hand was covered in the latter, it was adorable to see and even funny, but I was not here to mock. I did not glance at what he had been writing, instead I pushed back the hair that was covering his face, leaning in and kissed his forehead, then his brow where the scar was crossing from a bit higher on his forehead down to his cheekbone. I felt him stir a bit in his sleep, his head moving on the beam on which it was resting as a frown drew itself on his face. Smiling, I leaned back and started humming a song I had sung to him many times, whether it had been in times of boredom or when he could not fall asleep. My goal was to wake him up subtly, calmly and without startling him.
That did not work out as I had thought.
Without even opening his eyes, Rengoku reached out for me. I stepped back in time to avoid his grip, then whispered his name hurriedly. This time, he woke up quickly and let his arm fall to his side when he realized it was me; his expression turned into one of surprise then into a look of sadness. Quickly, his eyes teared up, I rushed to his form and wrapped my arms strongly around him. “You are back already,” He breathed joyfully, his hand threading through my hair as he pulled me closer. “I am back,” I nodded, gripping his back tighter only to have him wince lightly.
I let go rapidly and tried to pull away to look at him, but he did not let go, “Give me more time, please, I need to hold you—come let’s sit!” Without ever letting go of me, he sat down then had me rest both of my knees on either side of him while he sat crossed-legged and wrapped his arms around my form. I held him just as tight, my arms around his head instead as I held him against my chest while my cheek was against his head. The angle was bad for my neck, but I did not care one bit. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest more strongly than it had ever been and warmth was spreading all through my body.
“Would it be alright if I did not let you go until the morning?” He mumbled against my chest. His words were inarticulate from how he was pressing himself against me. “I would really like that, but first I said I wanted to worship you… Right?” I whispered softly, kissing the side of his head before trying to cradle his beautiful face in my hands. He kept his face against it, not moving, his hands gripping the back of my kimono a bit tighter. “There was a reason it took me so long to reply to your letters, my love,” He was serious, but his tone was laced with sadness and uncertainty. A nervous laugh escaped his lips, then slowly, he pulled away, his face still looking down. “You’ve mentioned many times liking my eyes, and the way I looked at you and… I’m not sure you will feel the same now.”
As he looked up, he slowly opened his eyes, revealing a bright fiery orb on the left and a ghost-like colored one on the right. He was unsure, his eyes were deeply looking into mine for any sort of sign that I was going to leave or hated it. Instead, I pressed a deep kiss on his lips and grinned, “Why would I not like it? A wise man once told me that scars were battle medals-“ He chuckled, interrupting me, “Do you realize you had told that to me, first? You had said it made us unique,” He smiled beautifully, his stress slowly leaving. My eyes widened; he had remembered that? If I said that, why can I not heed my own words when it regards my own scars? I thought briefly, but then looked back at Kyojuro bashfully, “I was not wrong, but the wise handsomeman I am talking about also said…” I trailed off, my hands cradling his face as I kissed his cheek, then his cheek bone, then his eye-lid, the Pillar chuckled timidly at that but let me do as I wished.
“…that scars were beautiful and mesmerizing, like the stars adorning the night sky. And just like the night sky, I wish to look at you until I see a glimpse of the sun rising, or perhaps until one of us falls asleep. I wish to bask in the serenity you bring and never let my gaze strand away from how beautiful you are,” because I love you, I held back from saying so, but it grazed the tip of my tongue. Our eyes never left one another’s, and even as I stopped talking, he did not speak. He looked at me in a mix of awe, adoration and perhaps a part of him still hesitated and needed to be convinced. I could feel my cheeks heating up from how intense his gaze was but loved every second of his attention. It pushed me to talk with more boldness.
Leaning over, my lips hovered over his, what am I doing? Where does all this confidence come from? Were some of the many questions crowding my mind; I was glad my hands were on his cheeks, it stopped them from shaking. The thoughts of uncertainty in my head were not mirrored by actions as I breathed against his lips, “If I remember correctly, that same man had written in his letters that he would like to worship me respectfully.” I held back a moment, brushing my nose against his before planting a delicate kiss on his lips. He tried to return it, but I pulled away quickly, chuckling, “I would love to do as I promised, and worship you instead,” My tone was so low, I was not sure he could hear me, but from how his body tensed I assumed he did.
I let my hands slide down to his shoulders, my eyes never leaving his in case he felt like he did not want to continue. Slowly, my hands slipped inside his kimono and on his bare shoulders before lazily pulling the sleeves down as my hands slithered down his arms. “My love, I cannot express how much I wish for your hands on my body right now,” He started and grabbed my hands delicately, bringing them to his lips before placing a kiss on it, “But I wish to know you are good too, and if you’d allow me, I would like to strip you of your beautiful kimono and kiss-“ I had darted my gaze back to his exposed skin when the word ‘strip’ left his mouth.
He stopped soon after and lifted my chin for me to look at him, “Are you still not hearing my words? Do you not understand that my adoration will not stop the more unique you get, my love?” I replied with a weak ‘I understand’ but he was not convinced at all, “Look at me,” he said sternly. I smiled when he said so, there was nothing I wanted more in the world than to look at him, but I still felt like the gash on my back was not the most beautiful. But then again, I was sure that with time I could get over it, and that his sweet words could help me get that confidence faster.
“I am looking,” I said in a low tone. Looking was a good word, but gawking would have been more adequate. The more I looked at him, the more I was getting used to that slight change on his face, and I was liking it more and more. I had not intended to make him feel self-conscious by ogling, but I felt like I had done just that when he smiled timidly, “You are indeed, and so am I,” He chuckled as he leaned in and captured my lips tenderly. I was grateful he did not break the kiss fast, instead he brought his hands to my jaw and tried to bring me closer to deepen the kiss. It felt so right and so good, I mirrored his hunger with a bit too much passion and made him fall backwards.
I apologized so fast it made Rengoku laugh loudly as he let his head hit the ground, “It’s alright, I love the enthusiasm,” His eyes traveled from my face down to my body, then to my hands that were gripping his shoulders tight, “I would suggest you kiss me again to help the pain away, I am sure it would help,” Looking down at him in surprise, I felt my cheeks heat up again, but leaned over with a stupid smile to then kiss his shoulder instead of him. “There?” I asked playfully. “Or there, perhaps?” I asked again, this time kissing the junction of his neck and shoulder. “My love, you are playing a dangerous game, I would like to kiss your pretty lips,” He said with a reddening face, his hands traveling to my waist where he held me.
I left a trail of kisses from the side of his throat to his jaw to finally kiss him passionately on the lips where he grinned into the kiss, returning it just as happily. “Can I suggest something? For the two of us to do?” He asked, his eyes burning into mine with intensity. My body temperature suddenly rose, I looked at him with flaming cheeks and looked at his still bare chest from when I had slid the kimono off him. “Yes, but I cannot promise I can stay silent-“ He covered my mouth quickly as he sat up, his face burning bright while an embarrassed smile painted his lips, “That’s not—I am so flattered, dear, I truly crave your touch, but what I had in mind was slightly different, if not very,” He chuckled timidly.
With eyes wide, I pried his hand away from my mouth and stood up, “That is embarrassing, do not think of me as wanton-“ Holding my sleeve as he stood up, Rengoku kissed me softly, “Then I will take the blame, I have no shame in saying I want you.” As if in a rush, he let go of me and stepped inside, his hand held out to me as he said, “Stay there, I have a great idea, bear with me my love, simply,” He moved his arm up and down, gesturing at my form, “Stay right there—no, actually, come sit on the futon, yes, yes the futon!”
He was suddenly hectic. A very different mood from seconds ago when I thought we were about to finally be together in more ways than one. I humored him and knelt on the futon, my hands on my knees as I looked at him, pink scars covering almost all his back. I resisted the urge to stand up and kiss all of them, as hard as it was. The lion-like man was careful when taking something from the cabinet, his sleeves hanging on each side of him for he still hadn’t dressed back. “As a child, when Senjuro would get hurt, I would have him draw the shape of his wound on paper, then draw around it, or with it, to make something fun. It would always make him smile,” Kyojuro told me, his eyes drifting to nostalgia as he did so. I wanted to know more about his brother, and his family in general, but I hardly believe now was the time to ask more about it. He had something in mind, and I was curious to know what it was.
“If you are not convinced you are gorgeous, even with scars, then let’s make it a real work of art!” His words were accompanied by his placing of a painting palette on the ground. A glass filled with dirty water and a few brushes were put on the ground too with just as much care. He then looked at me determined, but his gaze was searching mine for any sort of unease, just like before when he had revealed his eye. This time, I was hesitant, “You are suggesting I paint my-“ “I am suggesting to paint your back, your scar, with something so beautiful you will see it the way I do! And if you would like it, you can do mine too,”
Looking at him for a moment, I considered. My eyes trailed to the paint, then the tools around it to finally look back at Rengoku. He was already tying his hair back to get it out of the way. Seeing how thrilled he seemed by the idea, I thought it would not hurt to try; it was also an excuse to have his hands on my body, which rendered the idea even more appealing. Those weeks apart had made me crave his touch so much I was desperate for it.
“I will do yours first, if you do not mind. It will give me time to get used to the idea,” I smiled while mentioning him to turn around. A broad smile displayed itself on his face when his cheeks flushed pink, “Thank you for indulging me, let me-“ leaning over, he held my face between his hands gently and kissed me tenderly once again. The love dripping from his action made my heart beat faster, I kissed him with the same fervor, perhaps too much as my tongue tried to pry open his mouth. He pulled back laughing shyly; his thumb brushed over my lips while his expression was one that confused me. He seemed very concerned and happy at the same time. He was even about to say something but held back. Seconds after, he said, “I missed you so dearly, please, don’t be scarce with your touch.”
A breathless laugh escaped my lips while I nodded, “The thought never crossed my mind, now turn around,” I chuckled. Rengoku seemed insistent on looking at me and resisted when I placed my hands on his shoulders to turn him around. I laughed at that, for I struggled greatly seeing how unmoving he was. “Kyo, can you please turn around,” “Then I can’t see you!” He complained playfully. Pointing at the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, the one that was turned to face the wall, I said, “Then we move there, would that be better?”
After his approval, we moved to the front of the mirror after turning it around to face us. The man sat with his back straight, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at me thanks to the mirror. I had not realized he was doing so until I was done with mixing some paints to have some dark brown and had brought the paintbrush to his back. When I did, I looked over his shoulder and could see him smiling broadly, to which I said, “Is there something on your mind?”
“The same thing has been on my mind for the past four weeks and I am more than glad that my thoughts have manifested themselves today,” He winked flirtatiously. Feeling my cheeks flush, I told him to lean a bit forward all while pushing his head gently. He rested his elbows on the ground, his chin in his hands. Before starting the painting, I could not stop myself from kissing his shoulders. It earned me a giggle and a soft-spoken “Don’t be shy, your lips are welcome all over my body,” I followed his words and peppered kisses all over his scarred back, making sure to kiss each individual one. When I was done, I could see his face had reddened greatly and he was still looking at me in the mirror, his eyes glimmering with joy.
When I brushed the first stroke of paint on his back, he tensed suddenly but not without making a high-pitch sound of surprise. “I am sorry, is it cold?” I asked worriedly, pausing with my free hand on his shoulder. Turning his head slightly, he pressed a kiss on my fingers and shook his head, “I am a bit ticklish; those brushes feel like feathers on the skin, I was caught off guard,” He explained before positioning himself like he was before. Humming, I resumed my painting. From the beautiful pattern on his back, I could see a big tree that started more on the left of his back before growing up to his shoulders, the branches reaching across his shoulder blades and one over his left shoulder.
A few minutes passed; I was focused on the art that was happening in front of me. It was also irritating me faintly that I could not touch him properly, I wanted to hug him and fall asleep in his arms and as enjoyable and intimate this was, I wanted more. I needed to think of something, that’s why I asked out loud, surprisingly at the same time as the Pillar, “Should we start thinking of a name for our four-legged friend?” was what I said, Rengoku however was on a different note, “I am sorry for not talking, you are just so beautiful-“ He apologized for speaking at the same time as I did, so did I. Both of us laughed nervously. With a short gesture, he told me to go on, but I had heard his words, so I teased.
“Uzui told me my letters lifted your spirits,” I started, his face flashing in surprise then embarrassment, “Tell me, which part made you the gladdest?” Don’t start, I told myself. You cannot be this touch-starved to start something in the midst of an innocent painting, I scolded myself internally. I had finished the trunk of the tree, and was now mixing the colours to create a pink shade. Was I confident in my cherry tree leaves making? Not entirely. But I was going to give it my all. “Thinking of retiring with you!” He said a bit louder than he had spoken the entire time we were together. A disappointed “Oh,” escaped my lips without even going through the thinking phase. I quickly looked up to tell him it was nice, to add I was not disappointed, but when I saw his look in the mirror it had darkened. It was not as joyful as usual.
It was not sad either, but the smirk on his lips definitely helped me gauge the emotion portrayed on his face. “My love, are you disappointed?” His hand slowly reached behind to touch my knee. His fingers deftly helped the hem of my kimono out of the way to finally touch my bare skin. I had since stopped painting and was now staring right at him in the mirror. A huge innocent grin made its way to Kyojuro’s lips, “Would you rather I had said the idea of feeling your body against mine once again was what fueled me to get up, in more than one way, in the morning?” The brush was thrown on the wooden plank where the paint was as I leaned my head over his shoulder and slithered my arm to the opposite shoulder to cover his mouth.
I rested my chin against his collarbone and breathed out nervously, I felt him smile behind my hand. “Why are you being naughty now of all times?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Prying my hand from his mouth, the beautiful man pressed a kiss in the palm of my hand, “Because you have started it, I am only now joining in on the fun,” He then gave me an innocent look, the one he would usually have, as if he was not trying to rile me up, “I will stop if you ask me,” “I am not—I have not said that.” With the tip of his index and thumb, Rengoku lifted my chin and kissed me softly. The angle was not the best for such actions, but I melted into it without hesitation. “Very well, I am glad to hear it. Do not stop painting my love, I am impatient to see the final product!” He grinned enthusiastically.
Getting myself together, I leaned back and realized I had paint over some parts of my Kimono, “I dirtied my kimono because of that, I will blame it on you,” I said playfully, earning myself a loud laugh from the Fire Pillar as he added, in that same tone, one that is almost carefree, “Do not worry, we will dirty it even more,” He threw me a soft smile mixed with something I rarely saw on his face, arrogance? Pride? He added, “That is… if you’ll allow me, of course,” Bringing the back of my hand to my forehead, while still holding the brush between my fingers, I wiped the non-existent sweat, then resumed painting.
“My dear, if you keep that up, you might regret it,” I trailed off, my eyes staring right at his for a mere instant before focusing on his back once again. The pink was beautiful adorning the top half of his skin, up to his shoulders and even a bit on his bicep. I thought to myself it did not look as bad as it could have looked, after all I had no experience in skin-painting, nor painting at all. I was no artist, only a fighter. Broadening his smile, he moved his elbow to rest it on his knee. He was still sitting tailor-style which made him look so good when he rested his cheek on his knuckles. The teasing expression adorning his features drew me in, even more after he spoke, “Regret? You are more than welcome to use me, if that is what you so desire. Your gaze has been more open than your words, for the former has the honesty the latter lacks,” I was about to tell him off when he said, “My apology, I meant that I can read the lust in your eyes, even if your words are reprimanding me for being… wanton, as you would describe it,”
While I smiled to myself upon hearing his words, I could still feel the warmth in my cheeks. The embarrassment was strong, but I still teased back, “You are the first thought in my cloudy mind when I wake up,” I quoted his words from the letters as I put the paintbrush in the water, the look on his face was such a sight I could not help but lean over his shoulder and kiss his jaw. “My heart and body long for you and your…” Looking at him in the reflection, I delicately let my hand wander down his stomach. My heart was speeding up and I could see his eyes looking down at my hands, curious, wondering if I would dare do it. “...Touch” I then undid the knot of his kimono to feel him more, to have one of us act the words shared through those letters when his hand stopped me at such a speed I gasped silently.
A tight smile was on his lips. I loved seeing him like that, not fully out of control but trying hard to resist the inevitable; to resist the pull that was happening between us. Our long separation had only strengthened that need for intimacy, that need to be close, skin against skin, legs intertwined, breath mixing, and warmth shared under the blanket. “I have yet to paint your beautiful body, my love, will you be good and behave until I am done?” He asked with such a sultry look I was tempted to tell him there was no need to paint me, but he wanted to do it. So, I smiled stupidly, “You say behave as if I was a wild animal,” I chuckled, gesturing for him to turn around to look at the final product. He slowly did, while I focused my gaze on the reflection behind him.
He did not even glance at his back, instead he leaned over and kissed my neck softly while whispering, “Your wild, adventurous hands that needed to be caught to be stopped from going on a rampage, tell me otherwise,” I leaned my head the opposite side of his head to give him better access before even assimilating his words. His hair was tickling my throat as he trailed kisses higher on my skin, I gasped a laugh when his lips brushed over my ear then breathed, “Can you blame me? You have an addictive personality, and an even more addictive touch.” His chuckle was right next to my ear, I wanted to hear more of him. With his breath in addition, I felt a shiver run down my spine and looked at the door in case someone came in.
“And I am obsessed with your voice, but I have not made you moan yet, have I?” He huffed another laugh before kissing my cheek and leaning back. I was aware my gaze was flicking between his gorgeous eyes then his hands, many times. Before looking over his shoulder and into the mirror, Kyojuro looked me up and down, a proud smile on his beautiful lips, “Flustered, gaze askance and scared of being caught… Exactly how I had imagined it.” This effectively brought my eyes back to his in the mirror, this time with a pleasantly surprised smile, “Those letters of yours, they made me realize you had a way with words,” I started. He smiled, his beautiful eyes not leaving mine yet, “It made me wonder two things.”
Humming, he told me to go on all while gesturing for me to sit in front of him to start painting. My cheeks warmed up again at the thought of undressing in front of him. My fingers danced on the knot around my stomach while I spoke, “The first one being, if you have such a way with words, how come I have never received a poem?” I said playfully. It made Rengoku panic, his paintbrush falling from his hands as he looked at me with wide eyes. I quickly spoke before he could, “I am teasing. I was only wondering one thing, I would never be entitled enough to ask for a poem,” I said off-handedly.
This made his face burn bright red as he looked at me intently, “I have written many poems!” He said loudly, smiling. That smile turned more timid when he said, “About the one that is always on my mind, the one that makes my heart sing louder than cicadas in the summer. The one that keeps surprising me, no matter the amount of time spent together; I keep getting caught off guard by the words escaping from that someone’s mouth…” He said gently, his tone slowly turning deeper, more sultry. I felt like a comedian on stage, everything was pointing at me, I had all his attention, and I could not run. When he uttered the last word, his face was over my shoulder and he was smiling genuinely at me, “That someone is you, if you had not understood.”
“I had, I… am flattered. Maybe I will write you a song-“ Feeling like a great idea had struck me, I turned to look at him quickly, bumping our noses together. Both of us laughed as he put a bit of distance between us, “I could put a tune to your words, I could sing them—perhaps write words of my own to have you properly flattered,” I chuckled. A sound of surprise caught in my throat when Rengoku kissed me passionately, stopping my sudden rant and calming my burst of enthusiasm. When our lips parted, he stared at me lovingly, “I love this idea, I love it very much.” I giggled nervously, feeling stupid for doing so but did not add anything else. After a moment passed, he turned my head towards the mirror and gestured at my kimono as he said, “Now, what were you wondering upon reading my letters?”
I scoffed, my fingers dancing on the knot of my kimono, “I would hate to ruin the sweet mood that has been set, maybe I shouldn’t-“ Kyojuro wrapped his arms around my waist and pried my hands away from the knot I was not undoing to do so himself, all while talking and looking at me in the mirror, “Do not play a prude when your hand was between my legs minutes ago, my love,” He said softly. The tone was not depicting the actual insinuation of his words, which made it even more attractive that it was just from being spoken by him. He kissed my cheek again, pulling the knot away from my form, “Go tell me, share your obscene thoughts with me! Who knows, I might just share them,” He winked.
I tensed when I felt his nails scratch the back of my neck slightly as he held the collar of my attire. He paused, hesitant but not talking yet. I gently pushed his hands away and took a deep breath; as I let it out, I dropped my kimono off my form and said, with a fleeting gaze, “I wondered if that well-spoken man would keep his manners in bed, if your way with words would remain if you felt good.” I kept my back straight, hoping that if I did so, I wouldn’t shy away from his gaze. My confidence was a lie; even if I kept my head high and I had changed the topic, I knew full well that a seed of insecurity was germinating in the corner of my mind.
My whole body stiffened when I felt the warmth of skin on my scar. I did not pull away, but even if I tried, hands were holding my waist. It made my escape impossible. “Did you know that not one tiger has the same stripes as the other? It is a way to identify them, but also shows how unique they are.” It was slightly helpful and funny, I did not move and listened to him as he traced his finger over the length of my scar, from the side of my hip to the middle of my back. Mumbling to himself, he said he would try again, and try he did. “Perfection is like beauty, everyone has their own criteria they wish to meet, for themselves or for others,” This time I could feel the brush on my skin and shivered, my hair rising on my arms and neck.
“Now, you cannot force anyone to meet the criteria you like or wish for, that would be hard, yes,” He paused, dipping the brush again, his eyes focused on my back, “What you can do, is look at yourself, and see what makes you unique, what defines you, what are your more prominent traits—you make all of those yours, you embrace the traits you like and work on those you don’t,” His gaze met mine in the reflection, with a sweet smile he kissed the back of my head and added, “And what you have to do, is trust your body, love your body, it has gotten you through so much that it deserves all the love and worth in the world. Give your beautiful self worth.” I could hear him smile, his face was behind mine as he leaned over my back to paint details.
“Because knowing you are worth it, you will understand that you are your own perfect, and that perfection is a state of mind.” There was a long pause as I took in his words, while I still felt exposed being uncovered on my top half; while it was something I had never done around him, I still felt comfortable. At least more comfortable than before. A question set on the tip of my tongue; I was hesitant to ask it. “I am sorry if I stepped over some boundaries, we can go back to your question-“ “Do you like it?” His eyes widened. He paused his strokes and looked over my shoulder, confusion adorning his oh so beautiful face. “The topic of before-“ “The scar, do you like it? I will not see it much; I can ignore it, but…” I trailed off, not knowing what I wanted to say more.
Suddenly, kisses were planted on my back, all over it, first on the side of my scar, then on my shoulder blades, to finally reach the top of my shoulders, “I absolutely do! What could be more attractive than knowing how strong you are? And willed, determined! You are so beautiful-“ He looked up, a big smile on his face. I had to hold back a laugh when I saw the green paint on his lips. He had kissed paint that had not dried yet but did not seem to care one bit. “You are my perfect,” He said softly, wiping the paint from his lips with a cute smile.
My throat tightened; emotions were getting the best of me at his kind words. Laughing nervously, I looked down and wrapped my kimono back around me loosely. A gentle tug on my hand made me look over my shoulder then fully turn to face Kyojuro. His face was hesitant at first, but he beamed at me then reached for both of my hands instead, his thumbs brushing over the back of them, “I am going to be selfish—will you bear with me?” Knots tied in my chest, it felt heavy suddenly, but I nodded, my joyous attitude dropping from his words. “I know we do not know the outcome of this final fight; I know that. I am an optimist, I believe in all of us, but anything can happen—that’s why, that’s why I-“ He took a deep breath, bringing my hands to his forehead as he sniffled. His voice cracked as he expressed himself; it broke my heart. Was he going to put an end to this dream-like partnership?
I never let go of his hands, instead I tightened them around his. There was nothing else I could do until he was done laying his heart bare. I was fighting hard the tears that were threatening to fall. What about our future plans? What about retiring? What about our dog? Was this all play pretend? Was I hopeful for nothing?
He brought my hands back to his lips and kissed the tip of my fingers,
“I know it’s selfish to lay it out like that, I know… But I love you, I love you so much. I want you to know it, and that is what is selfish about me. You told me once that I could be selfish, that selfishness was good sometimes,” He brought each of my hand on each of his cheeks, placing his on top to press them closer, “I need you by my side forever, I wish to hold you every night, to hear your voice when I wake up and when I go to sleep,” a kiss was placed on my palms, he then let go of my hands but I kept them there, holding him closer.
He leaned in, eyes teary with a stupid smile on his handsome face, “… to see you trip on the tatami, to have your hands in my hair and to eat the best food with you,” I laughed through my silent tears, a smile matching his adorning my lips, “To love you is all I want,” He whispered before kissing me tenderly. The stress I had put on myself thinking he was going to leave me left through laughs in the kiss, our teeth clashing from time to time but happily so as I pushed him back on his futon. “I love you too, you are my perfect, my safe haven, my home,” I punctuated everything by a kiss on his lips, his arms wrapped around my waist to keep me close.
“I will not let you go, no matter what happens next,” To emphasize my words, I wrapped my arms around his neck, it made him laugh as he rolled us around so that we were both on our side on the ground, looking at one another, “Neither will I, I will find you no matter what,” he pressed a soft kiss on my forehead, then stared at me lovingly.
I could feel my eyelids drooping, I was exhausted from today and crying did not help, “Kyo… I truly love you… But I also think you have put paint all over your futon,” I mumbled tiredly. He chuckled with the same tiredness and brought me closer to his chest, humming, “That is too bad, I am not moving,”
“Is it a problem for our future selves?” I asked playfully.
“Absolutely, it’s their mess, after all,” He mumbled, his lips against my hair.
With my final functional thought, I asked, “If you heard my words about selfishness… Would it mean you were not asleep?” I remembered mentioning it when brushing his hair and even though saying so was out of place, relief flooded over me when I had seen he had fallen asleep. If he had heard me, it meant he had not actually been sleeping.
“I don’t regret faking it, I was able to feel your sweet kiss, a shame I couldn’t return it,” He said tiredly, his words mumbled and inarticulate. It was enough for me to understand and lean in to press a lazy kiss on his lips, “It is never too late,” a breathless laugh escaped his lips as he returned it slowly, sleepily.
We then slowly fell asleep to one another’s reassuring heartbeats, basking in the serenity of today and not thinking of any tomorrows.
[Part 8]
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bluepenguinstories · 3 years
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Remoras Full Chapter XLI: Here Comes the Sun
We ran through the tunnels, unsure what we would encounter next. There was an unsteadiness about it all which threw the rhythm of my heartbeats off balance. It both startled and excited me; that we were all together again and working to put an end to the things that have caused us such suffering for well over a year. Of course, there was no guarantee that we could, or that our answers would be found, but just knowing that we were together again and all felt a grain of hope, of purpose, made all the difference to me.
Our path was illuminated by dim lights set up along the walls of the tunnel. Little lanterns with stained glass casings and small crescent bulbs which produced a gentle glow. Each thud our footsteps made as we ran, the click-clacks, felt like we were that much closer. Of course, there were several miles of tunnel and Ray and I knew that the end was supposed to lead to an entrance to the airport. This felt different somehow. Like we were on a treadmill and the gap between the start and the end widened with every step.
Look at me. I’m contradicting myself. First I’m saying how we’re moving forward, and then I’m saying how we’re not moving at all.
Yes. It was confusing, and maybe it was more of a sense of swimming against a current than anything else. Funny, that: there was a strong chill down there. Maybe not a breeze or even a heavy wind, but a dead chill all the same.
“You know, I kinda missed it at first, but I swear, any minute now I’m going to complain about how freezing it is,” Ray slowed down and grumbled.
Compared to Tigershark and I, Ray wasn’t used to running long distances. Demetria slowed down as well.
“Come on, why’d you stop? It takes more energy to stop and start back up than it does to keep up the pace!” Demetria berated my husband, something which I really should have scolded her more over.
“Newsflash: we’re not exactly dressed for the part of running underground in below zero temperature,” Ray pointed out.
I think I was most surprised by the fact that Demetria didn’t seem the least bit tired out. I remembered back when we had our adventure together, she had trouble just walking up a mountain. Now she was complaining about Ray, who’s probably walked up plenty of mountains of his own, not keeping up.
“Yeah, it is a problem, but...are we really about to head back to grab our jackets?” She countered.
“This stinks!” Tigershark complained.
Everyone started to bicker among themselves and I began to shiver with a great intensity as well.
“G-Guys!” My arms and legs shook and I shouted. They all looked my way.
Good, good. You’ve got the floor, Sunny. Now to make yourself look cool. Don’t fuck this up!
“This is unpleasant,” I began. OK, not a great start, but I knew I could pick up momentum, “but we’ll have to make do! We’ll just have to get that blood flow! If we need to take breaks, that’s fine, but we still need to do all we can to –” I stopped myself as I realized what I had on me.
I reached into the inside of my jacket pocket and pulled out an unlit torch. Looks like I may have been more prepared than I thought.
“Hun, wanna do the honors?” I smiled and held the torch up to him. My heart skipped to the tune of ‘Skip to my Lou’, as something as simple as that felt like a grand romantic gesture. There was a slight hesitance to it and not one defined by the natural chill, but by the passage of time itself. For Ray’s part, he looked up and into my eyes, and they looked watery, a possible result of the chill. He shuffled into his pocket and he looked like a timid little rodent all the while.
“I can’t see very well,” he croaked and his words almost crashed into themselves bit by bit as he went on, “but you still shine so bright.”
If words alone could keep me warm, those most certainly would have.
“You do as well. Even faint, that light is still there,” I replied.
He pulled out his lighter and flickered a little flame. After the torch was lit, he looked away, perhaps in shame.
“I’ll admit, everything that’s happened up to this point still affects me. It’s hard to think that anything can get better, but...I’m trying.”
Demetria tapped her foot against the stony ground.
“Can we put the flirting on hold and get a move on?” Her impatience was characteristically hers. Even if other things about her may have changed, that little childishness remained. It kept the smile that was already on my face intact.
“Who says I can’t do both?” Ray chuckled and he sucked in a gulp soon after, his eyes wide in shock that he could even manage to do that.
We started walking on and huddled close together as Ray held on to the torch. In the midst of it, Tigershark jumped up and whined.
“Guys! Guys! I’m still cold!”
“How old are you now? 11?” Demetria scoffed.
“Be nice!” I scolded Demetria.
“Fine, sorry.”
“You’re never too old for a piggyback ride!” I told Tigershark, then swooped her up and got her up on my shoulders.
“I’m going to have to remember that one,” Ray commented under his breath.
Now, with Tigershark on my shoulders, we ran forth once again. Ray had a bit of trouble keeping up, but he was still doing a good job. A+ for effort. All was going well and we were filled to the brim with a heaping helping of determination.
“Hey Ray,” Demetria turned to him while running.
“Yes?”
“I know you didn’t want me to come back here, so you’re probably mad that I did so anyway.”
Ray shook his head.
“Right now we’ve got more pressing matters. Besides – I’m actually quite proud. I didn’t think you had it in you to do something so crafty.”
That all came to a head, however, when the ground before us began to shake. I wobbled and held onto Tigershark’s legs, struggling to keep my feet on the ground. Ray wobbled as well and almost fell while Demetria stood her ground, only bending her legs ever so slightly.
“What’s going on?!” Tigershark poked her head in front of me and looked around. “Is it an earthquake?”
I looked around as well. Her question was soon answered when the walls in front of us began to crumble, or rather, chunks of it slid out and what emerged were three creatures made of stone in the shape of large, human figures. My eyes were fixed on the holes which once made up the wall. Those human-shaped holes.
It’s their hole. It was meant for them.
My thoughts would have gone in all sorts of zany directions if not for the fact that one of them slammed their rocky ‘fist’ into the ground and knocked us all down. I managed to catch Tigershark in my arms as I fell, but it still wasn’t such a smooth landing. Meanwhile, the other two of those rocky beings blocked off the path forward.
“Gah. Just a distraction,” Demetria groaned before helping Ray up.
“Thanks,” he took Demetria’s hand and pulled himself up, then brushed off his pants.
One of the animated stone figures hurled a rocky arm my way and I swerved to the side. As I watched the stone fist fly by, I tried to raise a leg up and kick them down, only for my leg to slam in and feel a surge of pain rise from the heel of my foot up to the top of my leg.
“Dammit,” I hissed. Of course that wouldn’t have worked. That would’ve been like kicking a boulder.
Still worth a try.
One of my jacket pockets contained a thick pair of steel gloves. As I fastened them on, the stone figure once again readied their fist my way. In unison, our fists connected and I had to hold on with my other arm as well just to hold my ground. My legs slid back and I had to kneel just to hold my ground. That said, cracks began to form in the boulder-like fist of the figure.
Just a little more...just a little more…
In my periphery, I caught one of the other stone figures stomp their way over to Tigershark who was frantic in her avoidance of them, as the third alternated between trying to hit Demetria and trying to hit Tigershark. With two, there was a greater chance of her being hit. I couldn’t let that happen. But as I started to shift my attention, so did the stone construct as they noticed Ray, caught in the middle.
“He’s hurt enough already!” I grunted as I skidded across the smooth floor and almost fell in the process, but in a cool move from yours truly, I landed just in time to react to two fists slamming down. I raised my arms up and struggled to get up.
“Hun,” he gasped.
“Don’t worry,” I reassured him, “to me this is just another adventure. I can hold these things off. What matters more is everyone else’s safety.”
“Ha,” he scoffed and I could tell there was a smile about to form even without looking his way. “You’re beginning to sound like how I was. There’s no need for that, y’know?”
As I held my ground, he spun around until he was beside the construct and I, then pulled out several needle-tipped threads of razor wire. I noticed them wrap around the stone figure’s fists and he yanked forth, tugged with all of his might until the animated pile of stone had no choice but to yield and even if it was just a few centimeters away from my own fists, it was all the distance I needed to get an opening.
“Now!” He yelled.
“You don’t have to tell me that, silly,” I replied, all coy as I swung my fist right into the ‘head’ of the construct and watched small cracks form.
It’s not enough.
Faster, I jabbed the ‘head’ several more times, using greater force with every pounding of my fist until the cracks deepened and finally the stone head shattered into many misshapen pebbles.
“HA!” I spat into the figure, and I was taken by surprise once I realized that the thing was far from defeated: they swung from the side and on instinct, I held up both arms to block it, but the jab struck me right in the side of my abdomen and I was knocked back and fell right over Ray. We both hit the ground and my landing was somewhat smoothed with me being over him, but even then, I knew I must have been bruised pretty bad.
We both got ourselves back up just in time for the two stone constructs to stomp our way, one on each end. Ray’s back was to mine and we worked to protect the other.
“I thought you weren’t equipped for a fight,” I commented as I huffed between words.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to work with,” he replied. Our sly grins matched each other’s and it felt good to stand beside each other against an obstacle once more.
Just the other day, I didn’t think we would be able to fight alongside each other at all. He had kept to himself in that diner for the most part. With Aurora’s crew huddled in the diner, the place was even more cramped. Worse, she wasn’t exactly the most well behaved.
“Mutiny! I call mutiny! Avenge me, my crew!” Aurora shouted as her and Ray emerged from the kitchen. She looked enraged and threw a fit. Ray was making shooing motions and looked ever so annoyed.
“We hardly have any food at all and where do I find you? On the floor with a jar of cookies in your hands! How do you think that’s fair to the other occupants?”
As Ray dragged Aurora out into the dining hall, she looked back and stuck her tongue out, then stormed off and sat across from me at the table I was seated at.
“I’m going to have to side with my husband on that one. That was a dumb move,” I commented. Really, I know I could’ve just said hi, but it wasn’t like she said hi to me, either.
“For real, boss,” Allison, one of her crew members leaned over from one of the other booths to add her input. “I want a cookie, too!”
Aurora closed her eyes and slumped over, her lips folded down into a stubborn frown. She reached into one of her (what I assumed to be) many pockets and pulled out a cookie, then held it up with the tip of her fingers. One small, crisp chocolate chip cookie, made courtesy of Tigershark and meant for a small dessert after everyone’s dinner. Oh, if only. Allison took the cookie and munched away.
“Thanks boss!” She chirped while nibbling down on the cookie.
“Hey! I’m hungry too! That’s no fair!” Other denizens of the diner began to raise a ruckus. I knew such a thing would happen, and I was sure Ray knew as well. There just wasn’t a lot of food to go around and portions were getting smaller by the day. Despite such an uproar, Aurora just remained quiet. After a while, it died down.
With how deathly quiet it could get when everyone was hushed, even the slightest noise could return the place to chaos. Case in point was when a strained shriek let loose from the opposite end of the dining hall.
From then, I heard Ray’s defeated groan as he shuffled out from the back with bandages in one hand and hydrogen peroxide in the other.
“Poor Todd. His wounds must have reopened,” I made note.
“Todd?” Aurora asked.
“He’s a newcomer. I’ve tried to make him feel as welcome as possible, reassure him that things would get better and that he was in good hands here. It’s been hard, since he arrived with pretty deep gashes all over his skin.”
“Huh. I’m just surprised you know his name. Didn’t seem like you or Ray cared for stuff like that.”
“I try, just a little. I can’t say I know everyone much, and some haven’t been interested in telling me much. Maybe moral support isn’t much, but I don’t know what else I can offer. It seems like both he and I help out, but only at a distance, and at different intervals. Sometimes I provide medical attention, but mostly I just check up on folks and try to make them as comfortable as possible.”
“So this has affected you as well.”
“Of course,” I smiled, my voice turned warm and airy, “I never claimed I didn’t. Just that I need to have hope that things will get better.”
“That’s all well and good, and it better end, but hope without action will only get us so far,” Aurora argued.
I didn’t know how to state my case, if I even had one, so I changed the subject instead.
“I heard Russell died. It must be hard for you,” I tried to offer condolences.
“Yeah, it sucks, but what can ya do?” Aurora shrugged it off.
“Huh. You’re taking it rather well. I’d have thought you’d be more broken up about it, considering how much you cared for him.”
“Are you kidding? He was the best. Well, right next to Allison, of course. But I can’t afford to be sad. He’s too good for that. It would be disrespectful.”
“So you didn’t grieve? Nothing like that?”
She waved it off once again.
“I don’t really identify with those five stages of grief or shit like that, but I suppose if I had to pick one that resonated with me, it would be anger. None of this – none of this should have happened. Yes, environments out here can be harsh, brutal. People die from the cold all the time. This is different. It’s not natural. So yeah. I’m pissed.”
“So if it was the cause of nature, you wouldn’t be?”
“Hell no. This unknown force we’re dealing with? Or, rather, I should say, this cowardly force. I don’t care if it’s some supernatural bullshit or not, it’s cowardly that this thing kills with blatant disregard and then brings him back just to make him a monster, make us kill him again. It’s torture, I don’t care what you say. It’s not some unknown or uncaring force, it’s got intent, malicious intent. See, I may not have a formal education, but I get nature. It’s not always pretty and it can be dangerous, outright deadly, and I don’t know the inner workings, but it’s there and we live with it. If he was taken by a blizzard, or caught in an avalanche, hell, anything else, I could make peace with it and move on. This, I can’t. Not from him, but from what was done to him.”
“I see. That all makes sense. I’m just worried that even if we find out the cause of all this, we might be too powerless to stop it.”
“I thought you were hopeful.”
“I am, by necessity. Nothing is meant to be permanent. Not the good, not the bad. So I just have to hope that we can see it through and see the good again.”
At last, she opened her eyes and turned to me with a toothy grin.
“So you’re planted firmly in the denial stage,” she remarked.
“I’m not in denial!” I got on the defensive. “I’ve been acknowledging how bad things are this whole time.”
“Ha! It’s not the lack of acknowledgment that makes you in denial, it’s that you think everything will return to normal on its own. That if we all just clap our hands and believe hard enough, then poof, happy days are here again. Go ahead and tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re not…” I hung my head. “What do you propose we do, then?”
“I don’t know…”
We sat in silence for a moment and I kept my ears open, listening in for any possible conversation. There were some here and there, but nothing I could make out, as they all bled into other conversations being had. I had no choice but to throw in the towel. Unsure what else to do, I brought out a deck of tarot cards.
“I’m hoping for a good omen…” I muttered. It was like I was playing poker or something, a sort of spiritual game of poker.
As I shuffled the deck, I was brought to a fright by none other than Astraea herself.
“Hello, Sunny,” she blew forth those two words.
“Hey, kiddo. All done bringing everyone their orders?” I turned to her, still shuffling my deck.
“Yes. For now. Until the next one. Amen.”
“Hey! Look who it is! It’s Astraea!” Aurora chortled in excitement, nudging Allison along the way.
“Hello, human named Aurora,” Astraea greeted Aurora right back.
“Please, I’m begging you, just call me Aurora.”
“Very well, Aurora human,” Astraea closed her eyes and breathed life into her words.
“C’mon! How come Sunny is just Sunny? What about me?” Aurora began to whine.
“Because I wanted to annoy you. Yes.”
Tigershark must have taught Astraea about little tricks like that. I admit, it’s quite amusing.
“Dang, OK. I see how it is,” Aurora crossed her arms and pouted.
“What are you doing?” Astraea turned her attention to me and the shuffling of my cards.
“I’m doing a tarot session for myself,” I explained.
“What is ‘t-arrow’?” Astraea tilted her head.
“It’s sort of like fortune telling,” I tried to explain. “Each card is meant to represent something, and I’m curious as to what the future holds.”
“As am I. How interesting, then, that you can find that out through cards.”
“Ah, ha, I think it’s more complicated than that. It may show you a version of the future, but it’s still up to the reader to interpret its meaning.”
“May I watch?”
I nodded.
The shuffling continued until I felt a little spark, a spot of contentment, like a satisfying drop of water on my tongue. Then, I set the deck down and drew five cards and laid them out on the table. One by one, I flipped them face up.
“Let’s see...three of swords, the hanged man, the star, the hermit, and the world.”
As individual cards, I could tell each one in relation with the past, present, and future. However, I couldn’t say what it all meant when connected. I studied each one and just felt a murky, insatiable feeling. Maybe I could tell what it all meant, what everything was leading to, but at the same time, I refused to give myself the answer.
“Ha,” I laughed, “maybe it’s better not to know the future.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, I could say I have a pretty good idea...but I think it’s best not to tell.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“Let’s just say that right now, we’re in the middle, and the world is at the end. It should be a good thing, but I don’t know if I’m ready to face the world just yet. I’m still looking for that star.”
“I’m the star,” Astraea stated with great confidence.
“You sure are. Makes me wonder what role you play – if you are the middle, what is the hermit that will lead us to the world?”
Astraea shook her head.
“If it was me, every card would be the star.”
“Nothing else?”
“The stars are vast.”
“So past, present, and future?”
“And everything in between.”
I put the cards back into the deck and reshuffled, then put the deck back into the box. You could say that I made peace with the results. There were still other things that I hadn’t made peace with. Like the fact that I couldn’t see anything when I looked outside. No, it wasn’t a pitch darkness, but instead a thick buttermilk gravy-like shade.
“You know, something’s been bugging me,” Aurora brought up.
“Yes? What is it?”
“When this all first started, what did you mean when you said you could hear ‘voices of the dead’?” Aurora sounded like she was in disbelief that I would even say such a thing, but I remembered saying as such.
“Ah, you heard about that?” I chuckled.
“I’m not saying it’s a wrong assessment, but it just seems odd.”
“Now I’m curious as well,” Astraea chimed in. “I’m still new to the fact that humans die, but isn’t it known that a human must be alive to have a voice?”
“Oh, Astraea! I forgot you were still there!” Aurora gasped. She then gasped again when Astraea plopped down on the seat next to Aurora. That time, however, was less a surprised gasp and more of a pained gasp, as Aurora had her legs stretched out across the booth and now they were crushed under the weight of Astraea’s tush.
“Now you may remember,” Astraea spoke as if to comfort Aurora, then turned to me, “go on, Sunny.”
“Well, about the voice thing...not necessarily,” I corrected.
“What do you mean? Like, ghosts?” Aurora asked.
“What are ghosts?” Astraea also asked.
Hmm...I didn’t want to have to go back and forth answering two people’s questions, and the one using Aurora’s legs as her throne was the type to be full of nothing but questions.
“I think I can answer both of your guys’ questions. First, I think what I said back then may have been misleading. It wasn’t the dead that I heard, but rather something that felt devoid of any life.”
“Uh...no shi...i…” Aurora stopped herself from cursing, peering over at Astraea, who was bobbing her head and smiling. “...indig. No shindig. If somethings devoid of life, then it’s dead, isn’t it?”
That’s the best non-swear you could come up with?
“Please don’t interrupt,” I raised my index finger. “Anyway, it felt void of life. Like there was nothing in it. It was a voice, a noise, sure, but there were no words. It was like an imitation of words without a connection to them.”
“I see. I don’t get it at all, but I see,” Aurora replied while nodding. Astraea nodded as well.
“But this is why I’m not in denial, like you said,” I continued, “because nothing lasts and everything is in a constant state of change. Yes, when something ends, something else takes its place. But even that doesn’t have a true end. My childhood is gone, but my parents could remember moments of my childhood. There are places that I’ve been to that I’m not at right now, but I can still picture them through my memories. It’s through our memories that we are able to preserve things that have long since gone.”
“I recently learned what sleep is, but I don’t remember how I came to know it,” Astraea observed.
“But you remember sleeping now, right?”
Astraea nodded.
“And I remember watching others sleep, too.”
“Even if it’s not in our immediate consciousness, we remember things. We remember people, even long after they’re gone. Sometimes memories of a person can be fleeting, but to just remember at all, to just have them in your thoughts, gives them that much more life. In that sense, it could be said that no one really dies, because there’s someone out there to remember them.”
Aurora scowled. Maybe I had hit a touchy subject, given her lost crew members. But then again, it could have been possible that she lost others in the past as well. At last, she opened her mouth.
“Hm. Yeah. That tracks,” she said, all nonchalant.
“There’s a belief that says ghosts are just memories. Little flickers and images of someone who has since left. I suppose I subscribe to that belief as well. See, even if someone never knew them, wasn’t there to remember them, their spirit remembers. Little memories, like routines. That’s why it may appear like they pass through walls or show up in places they shouldn’t. It’s because that specific instance of memory is being played out. Those voices in the fog, they sound...forgotten, or detached from memory.”
“Mm. Living through memories. It would appear that you too are interesting, Sunny,” Astraea commented. By all accounts, I took it as a compliment.
“One possible interpretation of the death card in tarot is a form of change. How one thing ends and another begins. That’s not the only card to instigate change, but it’s the one I want to focus on. I didn’t draw it, but it’s what I’m looking forward to the most: the death of this fog, and for something new to take its place.”
Astraea hopped off and stood back up. Her gaze fixed on me, a focused endless chasm emanated from her pupils. As I stared, it seemed like the chasm grew wider, deeper, and darker.
“But if you remember the fog after it’s gone, wouldn’t you say that it’s lived on in your memories?”
“I…” I was stunned and speechless.
“I’m just wondering: how do you separate the memories that live on and the reality that you want?”
I should have had an answer. I shouldn’t have just let her walk away in wonder, but I too in that moment wondered what the answer was. It seemed so simple, right? Everything affects everything else, and even if the past doesn’t leave, it’s still possible to create new memories from the present and future, right?
It could have been fear. Not a fear of change. Many people had that fear, but that was one of the things I embraced, even sought out at times. But what I had a fear of...oh, I wasn’t even sure. Even if I knew, it would have been best not to say what it was.
Whatever stopped me from answering, I knew that the fog had affected Ray. He was worn down, torn, both on edge and out of energy. Kept him from smiling. Our lives were in upheaval and it seemed like I was the only one smiling. Or smiling for the both of us. But that wasn’t fair, was it? Should I even have been smiling at all?
On the off-chance we succeed and things got better, he would still be affected, and then the question would be: how much would he change at all? Or would there still be that little piece, somewhere in the back of his mind, always jaded and weary?
Still, I couldn’t help but be excited in that moment. The two of us, back to back, fighting those stone figures and us getting beaten up together. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
As the one on his end readied for a punch, he tossed some more threads at the stone ‘fist’ and once the threads connected, he tugged the large rock right off. On my side, the other figure readied a fist as well.
“Hun, I’ve got an idea,” he proposed.
“OK, but first, here’s an idea: duck!” I shouted and we both ducked down as the animated pile of rocks shot their ‘arm’ forth. We just barely missed being hit. Thank goodness.
“Now, take the rock and get smashing,” he voiced his idea.
From my eyes formed an invisible line which connected to the large rock in front of me. Then, it registered.
“Right!” I snapped my fingers.
I grasped the large rock in both hands, then lifted it up and in a swift series of motions slammed it down against the rock creature on Ray’s side. The other, the one who wanted a piece of me so bad stormed over and Ray swerved out of their way. I too maneuvered around, then thrust the rock down upon their head and slammed it down a few more times in successive motions, each one harder than the last, until the figure before me shattered into pieces.
I huffed. What a workout. It took a moment of catching my breath to realize that there was still one more of those figures and they were targeting both Tigershark and Demetria.
“How are you holding up, you two?” I called over.
“Bad!” Tigershark yelled as she jumped out of the way of the stone creature’s fist.
“All I can do is dodge,” Demetria replied, more collected, though visibly frustrated, “my knives are no good against these things.”
Makes sense. They’d have to be some really sharp knives to have any hope of piercing through such large rock formations.
“Don’t worry about it!” I assured her, “I’ve got something to break them now!”
My attention then turned to Tigershark.
“As for you,” I dug inside my jacket. Not the pocket, but buried between my usual top and the inside of the jacket. It was the last item of use I had on me and it was a wonder it could fit at all. I tossed it over beside Tigershark. “Here’s that makeshift weapon you made, dear!”
They were two thick wooden stakes connected together by several layers of thread. I didn’t know how effective it would be, but Tigershark was strong, and something was better than nothing.
“Ooh! You remembered!” Tigershark looked down and held onto the threads in between.
“Go nuts, kiddo!” I raised my thumb up and grinned. She did the same back to me.
As I got ready to join in, two more of those figures emerged from the walls in front of us.
“God damn it, we just can’t catch a break,” I cursed.
“There’s more?!” Tigershark freaked out, although by now at least she was having fun alternating between jumping around and whacking her foe. “I hope Remora’s doing okay right now!”
“Jeez, you had to bring her up now?” Demetria sounded annoyed.
“Well, these things are tough and I’m worried about her,” Tigershark cried out, agitated.
“She’s probably fine. She’s tough,” Ray tried to reassure her as we prepared to fight more of those stone figures.
“Yeah, but that other her looked scary!” Tigershark cried out further, rather than her worries be allayed.
“Other her...ugh,” Demetria scrunched up her face. “When it comes down to it, she really is the self-sacrificing type.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Demetria looked back behind us through the low light of the tunnels. She turned back to us and shook her head.
“No. I need to stay here. You guys are more important.”
I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.
“Go to her,” I sounded like I was giving her permission. Maybe I was.
“But –”
“You said so yourself: your knives are no good against these things.”
“But will you guys be okay?” She looked distressed, conflicted.
“Oh yeah! These things?” I pointed my thumb over. “I’ve faced worse.”
Once again, Demetria looked back, looked at us, then back again.
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” She asked, deadpan and dreadful. Yet all the same, she turned back at last. “OK. But if I go, you guys better still be alive when I come back, got that?”
I nodded.
“Got it, dear.”
With that, Demetria ran off, back into the nightmare that was the basement of the diner. Once she was out of view, I looked forward where our enemies greeted us with open fists (well, closed, but seeing as they had no fingers, I had to play fast and loose with my metaphors).
“Now with her gone, it’s just us,” I looked over to Ray as I cracked my knuckles.
“I’m here too!” Tigershark jumped up and jabbed her stone enemy in its ‘head’, causing them to knock down.
“Right! It’s just us three!” I proclaimed. “And the three of us are going to kick butt, aren’t we?”
Really, I couldn’t have asked for more.
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ask-the-good-creeps · 3 years
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i’m curious as to why ben and jeff hang out so much. is there any particular reason why?
//Be forewarned, young one. The story of how these two started their friendship is not for the faint of heart. It’s a friendship forged upon mutual understanding of each other’s deepest traumas and regrets. If you can handle shedding a few tears today...feel free to read on, and know as you read that until now Jeff, BEN, and Smile were the only three who knew this story.//
Secrets, Exposed
“Shut up! Everything was better before you showed up! Why can’t you just go away and leave me alone?! I hate you!”
The little girl in front of him had been six years old at the time. Only six…but that didn’t matter in the moment. He was a ten-year-old boy who had developed a short fuse thanks to the abuse he sustained day in and day out. He had made a habit of lashing out at other kids about the smallest of things over the past few years, and she was no exception to that.
All she’d done is ask him to play with her; he’d refused, she asked again – as young children do. It was an inconvenient time for him and an annoyance that she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, but the situation didn’t exactly warrant his overreaction.
Now she was crying, and before he could say anything further she ran off into the front yard.
--------------
           He couldn’t do anything back then. He had been a kid…just a stupid, short-tempered, ridiculous kid. He wasn’t that kid anymore.
           The poltergeist had had a few things on his to-do list when he first woke up in the lake. After facing the trauma of an untimely demise through violent murder and the horrors of The Between that followed shortly after, he was relieved to find himself with a second chance (of sorts) in the living world.
           He eliminated his murderer so nobody else would have to suffer at the bastard’s hands. He found a way to let himself into powerlines and grids, as well as the Internet so he could travel to any place and learn anything he damn-well pleased.
           He realized then that he was no longer limited. He could do something now.
           He started looking for her. He scoured the Dark Web, online chats and seedy sites, every digital place he could. He still found nothing but dead ends and horribly disturbing possibilities. He didn’t want to admit that he needed help, but he knew he’d never find her without it. This wasn’t his area of expertise, and her life meant more than his pride as far as he was concerned.
           When another not-so-human contact of his first mentioned the eternally-grinning vigilante, he wasn’t interested in the guy in the slightest…but the guy’s standard victimology was another story. His contact had told him that nobody in their little network – and likely nobody else in the world – could ever do better at tracking down and eliminating human traffickers and small-time kidnappers alike.
           That’s how he’d ended up here. He kept himself invisible as most spirits could while he waited. This old house had been condemned many years ago. The building was falling apart, and the empty interior was defined by peeling paint, rotting wood, and the ever-present scent of mold that may or may not have been toxic. It made no difference to BEN. It was unpleasant, but he couldn’t die a second time.
           It didn’t take much longer for him to hear the front door creak open. The sound was nearly silent, but any noise was clear and obvious in this long-forgotten place. There were footsteps next – two sets that were both light and quick.
           BEN watched them come around the corner into the room where he’d been waiting. The first to step in was a red and black creature of canine origin. It bore an impossibly large, unsettling grin full of sharp teeth, and its eyes found BEN’s location immediately and stayed fixed on him. The canine’s human-like partner came in soon after.
           The poltergeist took in his appearance. He was tall and muscular underneath the maroon-stained hoodie he wore. His greasy black hair hung to his shoulders in thick strands that contrasted strongly against his pale, mottled skin. His face was what uniquely identified him as the man BEN was looking for; the Cheshire grin carved into his cheeks stood out proudly. From a distance, it would completely override his true expression, which reflected caution now.
           He stood still in the room with his eyes focused on the wall in front of him. Most would think he had assumed he and his dog were alone, but BEN knew the man was nearly blind. He was listening to verify who was in here. While the green-clad spirit doubted he could be heard, he knew the man was likely aware of his presence regardless.
           “Hello, Jeff.” BEN greeted after a few minutes of silence as he let himself take form. The man, Jeff, focused his gaze on him despite most likely only viewing him as a silhouette. Jeff offered a grunt of acknowledgement as he regarded BEN, but nothing further. His stance indicated that he was waiting to be told why he’d been called here. He showed no signs of impatience, but BEN had a hunch he wanted to be somewhere else.
           “We’re both busy people, so let’s not beat around the bush here. I need to find someone, and I hear you’re my best shot at making it happen.”
           “I’m not a bloodhound for hire. If the someone you’re after is someone I’m able to find, I’ll be the one to kill them. You don’t need to be part of the equation.” Jeff’s voice was cold and raspy, and his words set BEN’s face into a scowl. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking again to avoid saying something to offend Jeff. Normally he wouldn’t care about upsetting the guy, but he needed help.
           “You misunderstand,” BEN started, “I’m after…an old friend…who disappeared a little over a year ago. I just need to find her, and I haven’t found any leads on my own. Just point me in the right direction – that’s all I’m asking.”
           Jeff didn’t respond right away. He seemed to be considering it, but BEN didn’t know for sure and he wasn’t about to overstep any boundaries to find out.
           “I can make it worth your while. What do you want in exchange for your service?” BEN asked.
           “Nothing. No deal.” Jeff shook his head and turned around to go back the way he came. BEN growled at the rude dismissal and appeared in front of Jeff again.
           “Why not?” the poltergeist demanded.
           “Does it matter?” Jeff replied emotionlessly. The casual tone was enough to set BEN over the edge.
           “Yes, it does matter! She matters! She’s only seven years old now – you of all people should know what kind of Hell she must be going through! You’re telling me you’re willing to spend all your energy finding someone to murder, but you won’t put that same effort toward finding someone to save? What the fuck is wrong with you?! How can you call yourself a vigilante?!”
“I never called myself a vigilante.” Jeff replied as his face worked into a frown. BEN opened his mouth to rant further, but Jeff cut him off. “If this friend of yours was six and she was taken over a year ago, what makes you think she’s even still alive?”
Those words were more effective than anything at silencing the young poltergeist. He hadn’t thought about that. He hadn’t wanted to. Now that he was being confronted with the possibility, he couldn’t find words to answer with. BEN opened his mouth and shut it a few times, while Jeff waited silently for a reply.
“She has to be. She has to be.” BEN wasn’t able to say anything else. He refused to believe it could be possible that she was gone forever.
Jeff sighed. He knew based on the info he’d been given here that this friend of BEN’s only had a ten percent chance of being found alive after all this time, fifteen percent maximum; but he could hear the desperation in his voice and had a strong feeling the ghoul wouldn’t leave him be until he agreed.
“Fine. I’ll help. Where was she last seen?” BEN’s face momentarily reflected shock, but it faded quickly as he started to give Jeff all of the information he had. Jeff promised to help locate her, but made it very clear that he made no promises of finding her alive. And so it began.
---------------------
           BEN would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least mildly irked with himself. He’d been searching for months to no avail, but it only took Jeff a couple weeks to get a solid lead. Jeff knew these monsters, though – how they thought, how they planned, where they’d go. He had better insight into these twisted minds than BEN could ever hope to have, and that’s what made him the best.
           They had gone through several rings now. She had been sold and bought several times since her disappearance, always by outsiders, it seemed. Now they were at the end of the lead. The final stop. If she wasn’t here…
           “Stay out here.” Jeff had ordered.
           “What? No, I’m coming in!” BEN countered with a glare. They were outside the house where she was supposed to be. He couldn’t just wait out here.
           “Listen, kid. I’ve seen what kinda conditions these fuckers leave their toys in. If she’s in there, you don’t want to see her like that. Just wait here for me - I’ll handle it.”
           Jeff walked away toward the house then without waiting for BEN’s reply. The poltergeist huffed and crossed his arms while he waited for something to happen. His foot tapped impatiently on the damp grass despite how little time had gone by.
           He started to pace after he saw Jeff go around the side of the house and leave his view. Seven steps forward, turn around, seven steps back the way he came, turn around…he kept going, his impatience growing with each step. He stopped when he heard a shout inside the house, and after a couple seconds of debate with himself he went in after Jeff.
           The livingroom was trashed, but devoid of life. He heard talking in the kitchen and went in to find Jeff, who was keeping a middle-aged, balding man pinned to the wall. The vigilante’s knife was pressed into the skin of the terrified homeowner’s throat, but not hard enough to draw blood…yet.
           The homeowner was pleading for his life, begging Jeff to let him go, promising not to tell anyone about him, the whole nine yards. Jeff obviously wasn’t listening anymore. He had the information he needed.
           “Well?” BEN demanded. Jeff heaved a deep sigh and hauled the man to his knees in front of BEN.
           “I warned you.” Jeff answered quietly. It took BEN a moment to process what the grinning man meant by that statement. The poltergeists teeth clenched as tight as his fists, and the lights in the house started flickering wildly as he fixed his harshest glare on the pathetic creature in front of him.
           “Where is she?!” the ghoul demanded. The bastard was terrified out of his mind as he attempted to stutter out an answer. It wasn’t good enough for BEN.
           “If you aren’t going to tell me, I’ll make you show me!” the blond was so firmly entrenched in the maelstrom of his own wrath, he barely registered Jeff shouting for him not to do it. He latched his cold, water-bloated, decaying fingers around the bastard’s head and dug into his memories.
           Jeff had been right about these images being things he wouldn’t want to see. Part of BEN wished he’d listened…but the other part of him – the stronger part – told him that she’d had to live through this nightmare because of him. It was his fault she’d suffered so much. The least he could do is try to understand that suffering.
           BEN yelled out in frustration as he reached the last memory the lowlife had of her. He threw the bastard away from him and the twisted head he’d just been looking through smacked painfully hard against the wall. The body slumped over underneath the new bloodstain on the wall, and BEN left him there awkwardly folded in half as he yelled again. This time the force of his rage shattered every lightbulb in the house and left them in complete darkness.
           Jeff watched this all happen silently. An ‘I told you so’ definitely wasn’t the right thing to say here – Jeff may have been cold, but he wasn’t that cruel. BEN stormed out through the back door and Jeff followed him. He knew the ghoul could more or less teleport away if need be, so he was curious about why he chose to walk instead…and where he was going. BEN’s gait was purposeful; he was a man on a mission.
           He listened as the ghoul stopped next to a slow-moving river. Jeff had heard stories here and there about BEN. He knew the guy had an aversion to water due to the circumstances of his death…and yet, he heard the splash as BEN reached his arm into the river and felt around. The blond seemed to find what he was looking for, and seconds later Jeff heard another splash and a series of dripping noises, followed by a light thump as what was pulled from the water was lowered onto soft dirt.
           BEN sank to his knees next to the wet burlap sack. It had been sewn shut, and BEN could feel the weight of the rocks that had held it at the bottom of the river. He wanted to tear it open, but he hesitated. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.
           Another sound tore from his throat, but this one wasn’t a yell. It was a sob, and it was soon followed by another. He was too late. It was his fault. The horrible possibility he hadn’t wanted to consider was right there in front of him now – there was no way to deny it anymore. Thick, dark liquid slithered down his cheeks in place of tears as he released sounds of the deepest pain he’d ever known.
           He felt someone sit next to him, felt an arm around his shoulders. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was surprised to find Jeff holding him in a clear attempt at being comforting…but that wasn’t his main concern now. Jeff held him closer and rubbed his arm while he let it out, like the older brother he’d never had. BEN’s sobbing died down after a while, but the pain he felt was nowhere near fading.
           “The last thing I said to her was…I hate you.” The poltergeist sniffled, and the statement hung in the silent night air between them for a few moments.
           “Did you hate her?”
           “No! I just…I wanted her to leave me alone for a while. I guess I got what I wished for.” BEN’s answer was heavy with remorse and bitterness alike. There was another long pause.
           “You never told me who she was to you.” Jeff replied. There was no warmth in his voice, but none of the coldness BEN had come to expect from the man was there either.
           “My…sister,” BEN answered, “Rosie was my little sister.”
           “It’s not your fault.” Jeff said quietly.
           “How could it not be? If I’d just agreed to play with her that day, she wouldn’t have been taken! She ran outside because I made her cry! She got kidnapped because of me!” BEN’s voice was raised, but lacking anger. The fiery rage he’d felt before had been extinguished, the sorrow and loss had all leaked down his cheeks…now he just felt the crushing weight of the guilt that he’d been holding onto since she vanished that day.
“He didn’t even care. Nobody did. The police stopped looking and said there was nothing they could do. He just drank more and took down all the photos of her in the house, like she was never there! I’m the only one…the only one who remembered her. I’m the only one who cared, and she died thinking I hated her.” He let out another sob, but it was just the sound. He didn’t have any tears left to add to it. Jeff waited for him to be done and pulled him in for a proper hug.
“I’ve survived being tormented by these fuckers. I’ve been hunting them down for ages. You said yourself that I know how they think better than anyone,” Jeff started, “So listen to me when I tell you that it wasn’t your fault. The guy who took her was planning it. He’d been targeting her for weeks, remember? Even if you’d agreed to play with her that day, it wouldn’t have deterred him. He would’ve done it another day – Hell, he might’ve even kicked your ass to drag her away – and there wouldn’t have been much you could do. You were a kid. He was an evil bastard that did something unforgiveable. All of this was his fault, not yours. It wasn’t your fault, BEN. It wasn’t your fault.”
The words weren’t getting through to him. BEN couldn’t believe any of it.
“I’m her big brother. It was my job to protect her.” He cried.
“No. It’s the responsibility of the adults around you to keep you safe when you’re a kid. They failed you, and they failed her. None of this is on you. It’s not your fault.” Jeff held him tighter and continued to reassure him. BEN was inconsolable, nonetheless. He felt a drop of water his head, and wondered if it was starting to rain.
Wouldn’t that be poetic? He thought to himself morosely. He pulled away from Jeff and looked up, but didn’t see a single cloud in the night sky. He looked at Jeff and noticed the liquid running down the man’s cheeks. He hadn’t expected it. He’d thought Jeff was a borderline sociopath this whole time. Jeff wiped his cheeks with his sleeve, but didn’t make a sound. How long had he been crying?
“How do you want to send her off?” Jeff asked as he gestured vaguely in the direction of the bag. BEN hadn’t thought about it before. He looked at the rough sack that contained what remained of Rosie; it was hard to believe she’d met the same terrible fate he had in the end. She’d been alive when the bag was thrown into the water. She’d drowned like he had. He remembered the fear, the burning of his insides despite how cold the water felt on his skin, the sudden feeling of calm as his life slipped away from him. He remembered The Between. Was she lost in there, as he had been? Had she managed to leave it?
“BEN?” the poltergeist looked back at Jeff as he was pulled from his thoughts.
“Cremation.” He stated simply. Jeff nodded slowly.
“I know a guy who can help with that. What will you do with the ashes?”
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           The urn was heavy in his hands. Jeff’s contact had offered the nice silver one. BEN had mentioned he wasn’t going to keep her, but the guy had insisted he have something nice to hold her in. The green-clad spirit appreciated that gesture now.
           He stood on the roof of the barn and looked out over the fields and pasture below. There were no cows, no horses, no pigs, no people. Everything he remembered here was gone, save for the hollow structures on the land. This farm had belonged to their maternal grandparents. They’d passed shortly after Mom did, but BEN still remembered them. He and Rosie had both loved visiting here when they were young…this was the only place BEN knew that held only good memories for them both.
           The sun was setting now. He watched the sky be painted with vibrant pinks and purples as it went. He could hear her little voice next to him, marveling at how pretty it looked; then the ghost of the memory faded, replaced with the throbbing ache where his heart was supposed to be. He held tight to the urn, knowing what he had to do, but reluctant to actually do it. Nobody had ever told him how hard it was to let go.
           Time didn’t slow for him. The sun continued its descent and he knew he wouldn’t have much time before it was gone. He wanted her to see it. He wanted the light to be there for her. He took off the lid of the urn and held it out in front of him. The universe seemed to call her home; a gust of wind came to carry her ashes as he let them fall from their silver container.
           He watched her go, and he continued to stand there with his arm outstretched long after the last trace of light left the sky. Alone under the moonlight, he finally brought his arm back to his side. He left the roof of the old barn and started to wander, looking for something and nothing all at once.
           Before he knew it his wandering had brought him to the woods. As he moved on, lost in his hurt, he came to a small clearing that hosted a single wooden structure. He didn’t think much on it as his feet carried him to the door of the unassuming little shack in the woods.
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atths--twice · 4 years
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The Eighth Month 5f/6
Chapter Six 
Questions and Answers 
I’m just gonna let the picture speak for itself. ; )
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“There is one more thing,” Mulder said into her hair as he held her. He pulled back and looked at her, holding her face in his hands.
“You have to close your eyes,” he said with a smile.
“Mulder,” she said, a suspicious look on her face as she let go of him.
“Come on, Scully. Humor me,” he said crossing his arms.
She looked at him, narrowing her eyes, then she closed them, her eyebrows raised. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, her back to the door. She laughed, but kept her eyes closed. She could hear him moving around and her curiosity began rising.
“Okay,” he said quietly.
She opened her eyes and Mulder was kneeling on one knee with a jewelry box in his hands. With a greater ability than she thought she could handle at that stage in her pregnancy, she fell to her knees in front of him.
“Mulder,” she said breathlessly, her heart racing. “What are you doing?”
“Scully,” he said, lightly grasping her hands, setting the box down, his other knee dropping to the floor. “I know I’ve asked you this question before..”
“Four times,” she responded quietly, her mind finding every one of them, like files stored away in a drawer.
The first time, after they lay hot and sweaty in a motel room awash in the afterglow, running for their lives. The second time as they were stuck in traffic coming back from dinner at her mother’s house. The third time sitting on the porch one evening, her with a glass of wine and him with a beer. The fourth time, New Year’s Eve, the two of them on the couch.
Every time she had said no. Sometimes laughingly when the mood had felt light and he had seemed half serious. Sometimes with a long speech as to why she felt it was unnecessary for them to need a piece of paper to state who they were to each other. How marriage was an antiquated practice and she was happy with what they had.
The only time she had come close to saying yes, was on New Year’s Eve. She had been sitting with him, homemade popcorn and the dark chocolate fudge her mother had sent back with them after Christmas dinner on the coffee table, remembering a New Year’s Eve long ago. The first time he had kissed her and the butterflies she had felt. The way he had smiled at her and how she felt happier in that single moment, than any other she could remember.
She had leaned her head on his shoulder and grasped his hand. A minute left and she had thought of how this could possibly be their last year. If the world was going to end, by his side was the only place she wanted to be. He squeezed her hand as the seconds counted down.
As the ball hit, he had leaned in and kissed her, the same soft kiss from years ago, and the same smile as he had pulled back. It was like he could read her mind at times. She had held his face as she kissed him back, deeper and with more intent. She had slid in his lap and began to slip her hands under his shirt.
“Marry me, Scully.” He had said, stilling her hands. 
She looked at him, his eyes serious and full of so much love. She could hear the music on the television and could not think of a better moment to say yes, to agree to be with him forever in every way possible. She had stared at him, felt the answer climbing up her throat, the word “yes” preparing to tumble out, but it got stuck along the way. Jammed up by a force she did not understand.
He had sighed, his disappointment showing, but then he had given her a small smile. He had held her face and kissed her, softly and so sweetly.
“One day, Scully,” he had whispered, resting his forehead to hers. “One day, I will figure out how to get you to say yes. One day, I will find the key that will open that lock.”
That was the last time he had asked her. The next year they did not celebrate New Year’s Eve. The predetermined date that had been set, had come and gone, and nothing happened. Mulder did not understand why and he began to fall down the darkest hole he had ever been in before. She could no longer reach him, the distance was too great.
Seven years. It had been seven years since they were in a place where he would have thought to even ask her again. What a waste of such precious time. She felt her heart growing heavy as her eyes filled with tears and he gently wiped them from her eyes. He held her face in his hands, looking at her with the eyes she loved and could read so well. She saw such love and tenderness reflected in them, she wanted to weep.
He pulled her close and held her. Their growing baby between them, the love they shared which created a new life, nestled within her body. He pulled back and leaned back on his calves.
“It’s been seven years since the last time I asked you. Almost, anyway. Seven years full of ups and downs, mostly downs. Deep downs. I.. I know we’re moving past the pain and suffering I put you through, put us through. But it happened and I know I fucked up." He took a deep breath and he closed his eyes.
“Do you want to stand up?” he asked her, as he opened his eyes.
“I don’t think I can,” she whispered, and he nodded, helping her to sit cross legged as he continued kneeling. She thought maybe he was doing penance, by staying on his knees, again asking for absolution.
“When you left, Scully, I was broken. I was angry and hurt. But, I know now, it was what we both needed. You were right to go,” he said, holding her eyes with his, being sure she understood.
“But, Scully,” he said shaking his head. “the moment, that defining moment when I realized exactly what a huge mistake I had made, pushing away the one person I loved and needed in my life, was that day I stopped reaching for you.”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes again. His head was bowed, his eyes closed. He looked up at her and he had tears in his eyes as well.
“Every morning, I would wake up and reach for you, as if I forgot during the night that you were gone,” he said quietly, his eyes full of sadness. “Every morning for two years, Scully, I would reach for you and my arms would come up empty.”
She bowed her head and cried. Those days always so fresh in her mind. The days without him, the nights even worse. Missing his warm body beside her. His scent, his arms around her as they slept. Their conversations in bed which were some of the most intense and soul searching they had ever had. His touch on her skin, making her tingle. Their lovemaking and the way he knew just how to please her.
“That morning,” he began again, taking her hands as she looked up at him. “I got up and walked into the bathroom. I took a shower, got dressed, went downstairs to make coffee. As I waited for it to brew, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong and it hit me as the coffee finished brewing. I didn’t reach for you that morning.”
She bit her lip to stop the tears she felt building. She needed to hear this again as much as he needed to say it. To take this pain they both suffered and finally move past it.
“As soon as I realized what was wrong, I sat at the table and wept. That it had become so normal to not have you there, I forgot to try and reach for you. I cried for everything I had put us through and then I cried for me. I didn’t know how to get you back, or even if you would want to come back. I had pushed you so far away,” he said and she squeezed his hands.
“I sat there at the table for a long time. Making decisions and plans to get you to come back. To be with me again, happy and whole. But, in the days after, I did nothing about it. I grew angry with myself at my lack of action. Angry at you even though you hadn’t done anything. Then you called me and asked me about Tad O’Malley." He shook his head, his eyes closed. “I was still sore at myself and you by association, so I was short with you when I saw you. I made callous comments that I knew would rankle you. I wanted you to hurt the way I was hurting, so I pushed when I should have reached out. So many times..” He trailed off, shaking his head again.
“It has taken us a long time to get back to where we are, Scully. For me to even consider asking you. To have the balls to even venture taking this chance. I’m not asking this of you now because we are on the verge of this crazy new chapter of our life together,” he said, letting go of one hand to hold her face. “I’m asking because, I don’t ever want to wake up one day and not reach for you again. I want to reach out and find you there, right where you have always belonged. By my side and close to my heart.”
She wrapped her hand around his wrist and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and tears spilled down her cheeks. She opened her eyes and he was staring at her. She could see fear and hope intermingled in his eyes. She let go of his wrist and held his face, pulling him down for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his went around her waist. They sat there for a few moments before he pulled back and gave him a small smile.
“Mulder, I have said no in the past because marriage is not something I felt was ever “us,” she said quietly. “I don’t need to see your name and mine on a piece of paper, or have a ring around my finger to know where I belong. I’ve known that since I first met you. You challenged me from the moment I walked through the door. You ran headlong into me and I didn’t try to stop you. Your desire for everything was contagious and I willingly became infected with it.”
He smiled at her choice of words. It was a good explanation for their relationship. A contagious desire to find answers. It had infected them both until she wanted out and he did not. None of that was worth the price he paid losing her and she him. She knew he knew that now. Knew they both knew it.
“I almost said yes the last time you asked me. I felt it, but I couldn’t do it. But look where that would have left us. Married and separated within two years. Of course we didn’t know the future, but would it have made these past four years harder or easier? Would being married have made us try harder? Would we.. have gotten divorced? God.. that hurts to even think about, let alone to say." She clutched her chest and took a sobbing gulp of air.
“Scully, we can't change the past. I.. I don’t even know that I would,” he said and her head jerked up. “Seven years we were partners, the only person the other trusted implicitly, best friends, until the night we took that step forward. Would you change that past? Move it forward or back?”
She stared at him. So many moments raced through her mind. Moments where they had been so close to moving forward. Nights she had stood outside his hotel room door, wanting to go to him. Nights she had wanted to call him and tell him how she felt. Times when he had driven her crazy, but all she wanted to do was kiss him, push him against the wall and rip his clothes off.
But then she thought of the what the morning after those times would have been like, how they would have proceeded. Would they have gotten closer or pushed each other away? Knowing what they went through then, his brain anomaly, his abduction, his death and then resurrection. No. She would not change that past. It all led to where it needed to go. The heartache that came with it, that was a learning tool. Preparing them for the future. This future.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, I wouldn’t change that past. It all transpired the way it was always meant to.”
“Exactly,” he said, reaching for her hands again. “Things happened the way they did for a reason. We may have wanted them to go quicker or wish they had slowed down when we knew their outcome in the future, but then it wouldn’t be our past, Scully. Our story is ours because of it. These past four years have been hard and so goddamn lonely, but they have made me appreciate you more than ever. I can’t say with total honesty that I would understand that, if I hadn’t lost you. If you walking out that door hadn’t woken my ass up. I can’t say where we would be.”
She nodded and they looked at one another. Relying on their unspoken communication to speak to the other the best way they knew how. She heard so much when they spoke this way; his eyes had always been her guide. She knew something was wrong when he would not look at her. Had seen his heart laid bare to her so many times when his eyes were on hers.
He took a deep breath and reached for the box. She took a deep breath too, feeling anxious, nervous, and excited all at once. This was it, this was the last time he would ask. The last time he would need to. She knew she would say yes, but she wanted to tease him a little first.
“Can I see what’s in the box before you ask me?” she asked him, a teasing smile on her face.
“No, you cannot,” he said, staring at her hard, an exasperated huff coming out of his mouth.
“Well, I’m just a little curious because, as you know, they say two months salary is what you should spend. And Mulder, seeing as how you don’t have a job right now…” She shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows.
“Shut up,” he said through this teeth. She smiled and crossed her hands in her lap, looking up at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and shook his head. She smiled wider and he grinned back.
“Scully, I’ve asked you this many times. Sometimes I’ve asked halfheartedly, trying to get a rise out of you." She chuckled and he smiled. Then his face was serious. “Other times, I’ve asked and been completely serious, my heart breaking a little when you said no. But, I always knew it wouldn’t matter if we were married or not, because it was still us. You’re right that a piece of paper and a ring does not a marriage make, but..I’d like it anyway. Knowing that we have been bound by law as well as by heart,” he paused and reached for her hands, setting the box down.
“What it comes down to Scully,” he said quietly, looking in her eyes. “Is that I love you. I want to be joined with you in every way. So, I ask you this now, reaching out from my heart to yours. Will you marry me?”
She stared at him, here on the floor of their baby’s room. Him on his knees, her sitting cross legged and heavy with their child, their hands joined together. There was no fancy dinner, no ring in the champagne or fancy dessert. Just them, in a room of new beginnings and journeys that lay ahead. It seemed fitting that it would be here in this room, in this house they turned into a home together. This was where they became them. Here they would remain and add to the fray. She took a deep breath and said the only words that seemed fitting to such an important question.
“I guess,” she said with a smile. He smiled the goofy grin she loved every time she saw it, raising his fists in the air and throwing his head back.
“She said “I guess”!!” he shouted loudly in the quiet house.
She laughed and then put her lips together, trying to hold back her smile. She failed horribly. She felt so happy and he was so adorably excited, she felt her soul light up. He put his hands down and looked at her and she could see her happiness reflected in his eyes. They both reached for each other at the same time, her wrapping her arms around his neck again as his went around her waist. He chuckled into her hair and she smiled.
He pulled back and held her face in his hands, kissing her deeply, all of his love seeming to pour into this particular kiss. She felt it all over her body and her heart was fairly singing.
“You guess?” he asked, rolling his eyes as he pulled back and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. He smiled at her and shook his head.
“Well.. I still haven’t seen what’s in the box..” she said playfully, as she eyed it on the floor.
He laughed and took his hands off her face. He picked up the box and turned it toward her before he opened it. She was looking at the box, waiting for him to open it, then she looked up to find him staring at her. She kept her eyes on him as he opened it. The ring did not really matter, not nearly as much as the man holding the box did.
She heard it creak open and she glanced down. She gasped and then her eyes flew back to his, then back to the box. It was not a ring at all, but a gold cross necklace, just a bit bigger than hers, with a stone in the middle. An opal. It was beautiful.
“Mulder..” she said as she touched the necklace, shaking her head at the colors that were captured from the light in the opal.
“I know you’ve said you’re not a ring person,” he said, taking the necklace out of the box, closing it and setting it back down. “But, you are a necklace one. I also know that eventually, boy or girl, you would want to pass your necklace on." He raised her chin up to meet his eyes. “So, I wanted to get you a necklace that was still you but a little different. Just as you are now.”
He held the necklace in his hands, hanging it by the chain. She looked at it as it swung lightly, before she caught it in her hands. He let go and she stared at the beauty of the stone inside it. So many colors danced and played in the light, it was absolutely beautiful.
“You know,” she said as she touched the opal and marveled at its perfection. “Some cultures believed that opals had supernatural powers, or fell from the heavens when lightning hit the earth. Some people thought it could guard them from disease. Some even considered it as a symbol of hope and truth or simply good luck,”
“Who needs Google, when you’ve got Scully?” he said with pride in his voice.
She looked at him and her brows furrowed. She pulled him to her and buried her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of this man she loved so much. The man who knew her so well, he bought her a necklace instead of a ring.
She put her head on his shoulder. “My answer definitely wasn’t good enough,” she whispered and he chuckled, pulling her tighter. He breathed a deep breath and rubbed her back.
He pulled back and looked at her. “Will you marry me?” he asked again with a smile on his face.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Phew, that was a close one,” he said as he reached around to unclasp her necklace, both of them chuckling. He handed it to her and exchanged it for the one in her hands. He leaned back and looked at her, the goofy smile back on his face.
“It looks beautiful,” he said, holding the cross between his fingers. “You’re right about the history of the opal, but that’s not why I chose it." He released it and let it fall back onto her chest.
“I chose it because it’s the only stone that captures the colors of every other stone. All of our birthstones reflected in one. Yours, mine, the baby’s, and William’s,” he said as she reached and held it in her fingers, softly caressing it. “All of us together, close to your heart.”
She smiled and felt tears in her eyes. “God, Mulder. Seriously, you are getting so mushy and sentimental in your old age.”
“Hey!” he said, feigning outrage. She leaned forward and kissed him. She held his face in her hands and stared at him.
“I love it, Mulder. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I would have picked.”
He smiled and kissed her again. Then he leaned back and started to get up. He moaned and she laughed as she heard pops and cracks as he stood all the way up, putting a hand on his lower back and swearing a couple of times.
She put her hands out and he pulled her up carefully, holding her while she regained her balance, and stealing a kiss while he did. He took the necklace she still held in her hands and walked over by the crib, where there was an empty nail on the wall she had not noticed before.
He hung the necklace there, his fingers stroking it, before he ran the cross between his thumb and forefinger. He shook his head and turned back to her, pulling her close as they looked at the necklace hanging there.
“Think of it, Scully. Think of how much has happened with that necklace. How many times it has been lost and found it’s way back. It’s like us in that regard. We’ve lost our way many times. Yet here we are, together, as we were meant to be,” he said against her hair, as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
She sniffled lightly, but these tears were tears of happiness. He was right, the necklace was symbolic of them. It may have lost its way from time to time, but it always came back.
The new necklace would never lose its way. She knew where it, and she, would always be and always stay. Here, in this home with this man who had been like a strike of lightning in her life; bright and full of energy. The man who found a cure for her disease and was her symbol of hope and truth. He had surely picked the best stone when he picked that opal. He knew what he was doing. She held him tighter and closed her eyes. She loved him so much. He squeezed back and kissed her head.
“I love this necklace, Mulder. I do, but.. hmm I don’t know. I kinda feel like maybe, I might, be a ring person. Maybe?” she said into his chest, joking but not wanting him to see her smile.
He laughed and let go of her, stepping back and smiling at her, as he turned and walked back by the box. She looked at him quizzically as he picked it up and walked back to her.
He opened the box and took out the necklace holder. Underneath, lay a simple gold band with a small diamond set in it. She gasped as he took her hand and slid the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly.
“I’m not an idiot,” he said, giving her a knowing smile.
“Oh, Mulder!” she exclaimed, looking at the ring. She was speechless.
This too was perfect. Nothing too grand...simple and beautiful, just what she would have picked. She shook her head and looked at him and he smiled at her raising his eyebrows.
“I love you,” she said, staring at him. She felt surprised, but also not, all at once. Of course he would have a ring. Of course the man who asked her four times and had been rejected every time, would be traditional, but also so Mulder about it. The necklace was the real gift, but the ring was for her.
As much as she said she did not want to get married, that it was not necessary, deep down she knew she did. And he knew she did. And he knew she wanted the ring, too.
He stepped back and put his hands out wide, gesturing to the room, to her, and the room again. She smiled and then stepped toward him.
“You did a great job painting the room, Mulder. I’m sure Skinner appreciated your help as he put all the furniture together,” she said cheekily.
“You wound me, Scully. Right in the heart,” he said, as he put his hands over his heart. She laughed and wrapped her arms around him again.
“It’s perfect, Mulder. All of it is perfect. Aside from the room, when did you have time to plan all this?”
“Well,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “As you so kindly mentioned earlier, I am unemployed. It’s amazing the things you can find to do when you have nothing but time and the drive to find what you need. Both of those pieces of jewelry are antiques. I knew what I wanted, I just had to find them.”
She thought of him, spending his days searching for just the right items, and her heart filled with love. He had grown and changed so much in the last couple of years. She loved him more than ever for it.
She looked around the room. The paint, the pictures, the furniture, the chair, everything was perfect. It felt good. They were ready. They were engaged. Jesus..
She pulled back and looked at her ring again. She looked up at him and he was watching her as she looked at the ring. She shook her head and smiled at him.
“Is it time for bed yet?” she asked him, putting her hands on his chest. The ring catching the light and lighting a fire inside her.
“Bed? It’s the middle of the afternoon. Are you tired?” he asked, surprise showing on his face.
“Oh, no. I’m not tired,” she said, her hands running down his chest to the bottom of his shirt. She looked at him and watched his eyes widen.
He grabbed her hand and whirled her around, pushing her shoulders to get her through the door. She laughed as he kept going until she was in their bedroom and he closed the door firmly behind them.
Her laughter echoed down the hall, filling the recently lonely house with happiness and love.
_______________________________________________
This has been another fun and challenging story to write. I love them at this stage in their lives, happy and together. Hope you all enjoyed this story.
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Hey, you! — Sincerely, Me.
You and I have quite the history, one in which we seem to be rather quiet regarding. I haven’t always been too fond of you, ya know? As I sit here right now, imagining this mirror image of myself sitting across from me, I am realizing there’s more that I would like to to say to you than I originally expected.
A good place in which I’d think we should start: I’m sorry for the physical pain I have brought you. In the beginning, I’m honestly not quite sure as to how it became the coping mechanism that it did. I remember when we first felt pleasure from pain.
Your grandfather from your mother’s side was still living. It was during your grandparent’s brief break of 4 months between 62 years. We remember this because papaw’s enormous rocking chair he slept in during that time had a piece of metal piercing the corner of its cloth. We were running through the living room one day when that piece of metal that was piercing through that cloth, pierced your skin.
— looking down, I was watching the blood slowly flood the fresh ditch of torn flesh in which the metal had engraved itself. At this point, I can only assume that the typical 5th grader would’ve gone to their parents and weeped until they were fed some ice cream. However, we seemed to get this rush. This was how hurting you had even began.
Looking back at this now, I can kinda piece together where we shouldn’t have found this odd. Our home life wasn’t exactly ideal, we didn’t have a parental figure that we could run to in confidence, you see? — do you understand where we felt completely responsible for oneself, beginning at a very young age?
I’m glad you forgive me for this, because honestly this is just the very beginning, Carter..
I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.
I’m sorry for the pain that came out of pure blame and this only led to self betrayal, we were trapped in an awakening hell.
I know you remember every single time we looked each other in the eyes and retreated into self hatred.
— I know you remember that night when mom had came home early, back when we lived in Bonita. She stumbled in, clearly strung out on Xanax once again— Kylie and I had immediately exchanged looks, knowing things weren’t going to end well once she made it to her husband’s bedroom. We took Connor to the bathroom, which was our regular retreat area when things got too loud in the house but it was too dark to go fiddle with Roxanne outside. This is where things get a little blurry. Kylie and I heard loud echos within the walls in which it was clear things had progressed into another physical altercation. Sitting Connor down as fast as possible, I remember seeing Kylie only hesitate for a brief second before she made up her mind, in which she decided to rush to the defense of our mother. Her and I both ran to the opposite side of the house, and as we turned the corner, we saw our mother’s husband holding our mother with his hand on the back of her neck, forcing her face into the mattress as his knee stabbed her lower back. He was screaming words that I still can’t remember due to the simple fact I did not care. Regardless of how shitty of a mother she was at the time, my ears still ignored him and my eyes immediately scanned the closest surface for a weapon in which I would be able to aid our mother. As I reached for the Bitch Vodka from the top of the fridge, Kylie ran into the room and just threw herself at him. She was screaming at the top of her lungs for him to stop hurting her mom as she planted as many punches as possible into this abdomen, without ever dropping her beloved teddy bear that me and Connor often hid in efforts to annoy her. — later this night, or rather that morning— after the kids and everyone had finally gone, I remember locking myself in my bedroom and looking myself dead in my eyes and just laughing. Laughing at the fact we were foolish enough to believe we could actually protect them from the truth of their own lives.. laughing at the fact we were just pathetic. Replay the night in my head, see the memories play again as I stare into the reflection of my own eyes— then quickly closing our eyes and dragging the blade across our shoulders. We had to be about 14 or 15, at this point.. I remember what I would always whisper to you when I gave you that small nudge of encouragement it took to destroy our own skin & hate our very being, and do you know what it was? It was 3 simple words. “You deserve this.” — then BAM, just like that— that so called pain just sank into that same rush, that same high we get off hating ourselves.
—I know you remember that day back in alternative school, wearing your white holster hoodie, returning to our hateful glare at our own reflection, only this time it was the school’s mirror in which we stood. I forgot what exactly happened that day, but I remember looking at you dead in your eyes and telling you how unloved and undeserving you will always be, down the the fact your own mother would rather drain out the reality of you being her child when she feels like you’re far too much. I know you remember when I’d repeat all of those hateful things to you, making you cry just to get it out. I always found it quite funny, once I finally made you cry, you always fell completely weak. Down to your knees, it didn’t matter who heard your pleads to me— yourself. Begging you to just love me and accept the fact we might just possibly be perfectly okay..
—I know you remember that night in which we fell drunken into the ER with the man you decided to fall in love with during the year 2017. I know you still remember when he completely disrespected and disregarded the entirety of your morals. I know you still remember how he would tell you he was in love with you after he fucked those women at the bar and I know you still remember sitting in that same garage, feeling nothing more overbearing than the guilt as you told him, “fine, this is the last time I give this a try,”— I know you remember feeling that overbearing guilt due to the fact you know once you forgave him again, you were then disrespecting and disregarding our OWN moral values.. you chose him over us. You chose to make his own excuses for him due to the fact you were scared, Carter.
— I know you remember when we contemplated for the first time, after 2 years of sharing a life with this man, if we truly did love him.. or if we were simply selfish.
You knew he didn’t love you the moment he threatened to lay hands on you, you let it progress to the point where his threats began to take action, and by then?.. by then you felt like we were in far too deep, babe. You felt obligated to this man. He hit you and how dare you, even briefly, how dare you.. you allowed him to use the excuse of it being our fault. You let him tell us that we weren’t deserving.
& for all of this, I am sorry.
I am sorry for ever allowing the fact our mother ruined her life, even for a brief moment, dictate how deserving we are within our own life. — I also thank you for this, however. We let this impact us to the point where we lowered ourselves.. we convinced ourselves that we were deserving of nothing more than pain and suffering. Can you believe that? There was that point in which we truly believed we worth nothing. There was a point where we disrespected and disregarded oneself to the point in which we allowed another human being to do the same.
— In this, we learned the meaning of that old saying, “you have to love yourself before you love anyone else.” In my experience, it applies in the sense that I must find myself worthy and deserving of love before I claim to be capable of loving another. One cannot love without having love. Otherwise, it feels impure. How can you love someone else without having that love for yourself? It seems without having that love for oneself, they tend to only think they love another.. while in reality, one is actually feeling strong attached due to their selfishness. If you do not have that love within yourself prior to allowing yourself to love another, then you will not have anything to truly give them of yourself. You will only be feeding off of the love they give you, and eventually you both will come to the realization that sometimes, even if it is a different definition of “love”, you will realize that this supposed “love” will never be enough to recover the relationship unless one has established true love within oneself in order to provide that genuineness to another.
—We also learned that sometimes we must love from the distance, in regards to making mends with the fact your mother’s current situation does not define who you decide to be today, nor who you decide to morph yourself into. We made mends with the fact that even though your mother cannot provide the love you yearn from her, we have made peace with the fact she simply does not have that love within herself, therefore.. she is incapable of effectively proving me with the motherly love in which i had always wanted. Again, however, we have come to an acceptance that we cannot let how much value someone else holds to us, define how much value we find within ourselves.
Hopefully you can see where this pain brought us wisdom.. And now I’m going to try to bring this to a closure here soon.. but I have just a few more things we need to acknowledge.
I’m sorry for questioning why our love wasn’t enough when Nana’s suicide occurred.
I’m sorry for blaming us, because we weren’t there.
I’m sorry for letting you be so foolish, in the sense you’d blame yourself..
That is not our fault, Carter. We were there. We did everything we possibly could and this may not be something we will ever be able to completely accept... but we will gain more from this. Yes, more pain. But hopefully you’ve come to the realization that with great pain and confusion later comes great wisdom and several opportunities if one uses this wisdom effectively.. you’re smart, babe.
I know that we will never be able to really just make sense of this one.. but maybe sometimes, things shouldn’t make sense. Maybe sometimes, life is unfair. And things happen for seemingly no real reason other than the assumption we must just have some shit luck.. but maybe we should stop asking so many questions. Because we can’t get answers with this one. She’s gone. She was in a great deal of pain. That was her choice. She told you to take care of yourself.
So, I’m sorry for not being the best version of ourselves that we can be. I apologize for the fact I have not given us anything near the amount of respect and love that we do indeed deserve. We are deserving of it all, because we have lived for it all.
I find myself worthy, because I have survived every single life threatening situation that my own self hatred has placed me in. I find myself worthy because I have earned this life that I am now able to truly call my own, while pridefully planning to only progress when it comes to my personal success.
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A Letter To My ‘Owner’
Dear S,
You are a lost soul. One of many I tried to save... but like the others, my value as a person was completely dependent upon my relationship to you. Even as friends, the sole reason you stuck around was in hopes I’d one day become yours truly. Although from the start I made my intentions clear, I remained an object- a possession rather, for you to one day claim. Once you came to the realization I’d never be yours I lost all value as a woman. I became useless... someone for you to spend all your days despising. Did I ever deserve kindness in your eyes? Well, when I removed your toxicity from my life the answer was most definitely no.
Because that’s how it works with manipulative people isn’t it? You’re everything til you’re nothing. As in, I was the ‘love of your life’ until I made it abundantly clear I’d never reciprocate those feelings or tolerate your abuse any longer. Then I came scum, some little play thing for you to torture. You threatened me and my family. Promised me I’d pay for removing you from my life. And I did. 
You slammed my internet off constantly. 20 something times a day, 7 days a week. You had a private investigator followed me for weeks thinking I had a boyfriend, because surely, I’d never choose to stop speaking to you otherwise right? How did it feel finding out I didn’t? That all I did was go to the gym, store and gas station alone for close to a month. 
Did it hurt? Knowing I left your life because of your own actions, not because I was some “e-girl” or “slut” like you accused me of being. You did this to yourself. The sleepless nights I stayed up with you reassuring you that life would get better became some romance you made up in your head. The friendship I offered watching you fall apart would end up being my own undoing. 
Does it sting? Waking up and immediately downing a few adderall just to numb the tragic reality that you are a nasty person that finds pleasure in others suffering. Others that once made the mistake of caring for you genuinely. I saw your past adderall-fueled & got a glance at your pained soul. Sinking closer and closer to rock bottom... and I almost drowned trying to save you from yourself.
Do you still cry? Latching on to trauma that you endured growing up, using it as an excuse to do toxic things to innocent people you’ve deemed unworthy of basic human decency. One of many concepts you never seemed to grasp was that everyone experiences suffering and while some haven’t endured what you were forced to, many have gone through much worse. The level of pain you’ve suffered through does not give you a right to hurt others. Equally, the trauma you’ve felt does not define you. This is something I said to you over and over again. Some days it felt as if you understood & were lucid enough to process the concept... but then you’d pop another handful of adderall and be right back to your manipulative, child-like ways. You continuously stunted your own growth.
Do you still think of me? You monitor my every move online and for a brief period, offline as well. I imagine you ran out of money to have someone follow me between the adderall and dos attacks. You promised me I’d be blocked from any contact with you but my messages always went through. Anything I’ve posted on social media has been viewed by you. Remember how you claimed I “wasn’t worth” your time & energy? I feel as if I’m worth a lot more than that actually. For being such a worthless girl, I’ve consumed so much of your effort. I know I’m always on your mind. Because although I may not have loved you in the way you wanted, I was always good to you. You know I cared about your well being and wanted you to achieve genuine happiness. 
The reason you cannot leave me where I left you is because you know deep down, underneath the unfounded hatred and countless adderall pills, is the realization that I am a good person. Not an object. Not an e-girl, slut, thot... but an actual person that wanted what was best for you. Although you may never come to see that, I am no longer under your control and I know it drives you insane. The freedom I found from distancing myself from your toxicity was liberating. The peaceful sleep I get knowing I won’t have to face a phone full of missed calls and threatening texts the following morning is unrivaled. I hope you find yourself in front of a mirror one day & use the horror of what’s reflecting back at you to become a better human being. 
Because I am not your possession, and you are not my owner. 
-NL
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ofthemuses · 5 years
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Area 11 Sentence Meme; from all their released albums
All the Lights In The Sky (2013)
i. vectors
One day I will find you  I saw that you were lonely too  You reached out and you took me I repressed that time Everything that I forgot, I see it clearly  can’t you see that you’re losing your mind A shot to the head leaves it all behind I’ll tear you apart Reach out your hands to catch me reach out your hands and you tear me apart But we are simply killing time I wish I’d see inside your mind I wish I’d seen inside you Almost the same, but not enough Never forgiven, but still in love
ii. euhpemia
Memories of fallen dreams and all those that have died. Demons are possessing me. I feel my hate take flight. I'm choking on my own words and I'm scared of backing down the hope within us all is up in flames Twisted by my warring conscience. The situation's pushing onwards. This can't be, was this me? I think I've lost control. I caused this, I forced this, Can I continue on? I caused this, I forced this, I caused this! Betrayed by trust, forever left to scream. Oh hold me closely and die in my arms, then take this secret with you. I became your puppet master This could fuel The Revolution! This could be my last solution! And all good victories come with a price. Just take my secret with you.
iii. knightmare / frame
What is life but a burden for me? All this anger, burning inside but buried deep One step forward and two to the side, every single time I fall asleep and I feel I'm falling Nightmare comes without warning I can't seem to sleep  In my dreams I feel I'm running towards her/his shining light She/he shines for me Just like glass I saw right through Something I couldn't see until I changed my point of view I cannot let you go inside of me, the will to change the world Can a mask be the face of reason? You will answer, to the pieces left behind Well I watched her/him die in your arms Freed but they'll never understand
iv. tokyo house party
I know that this will never work out So it shouldn't even start Cause I'm just a kid at heart And you know that it's such a waste Cause I hate that bitter taste and your bittersweet embrace I feel this has gone to my head I'll never drink again But fuck it, I don't care I don't know what you came here for This is where we are from (The town where nothing goes on) Waiting for our own special moment to die I got lost to find myself I wanna be with you tonight Cause everything's gone; it's been wiped out I feel a change in the pace I know I should run and I should fight But the look in your eyes: I could die here tonight Fear of failure, we're moving so slow
v. shi no barado
I saw your face in the LED's It's something that I can never repay, but I will try anyway. I sent a message I know you'd see Now fate led you down a path to me You're all I ever wanted you can use me, you can kill me My body will be a fortress I will keep you safe from pain My losses are your gains Together we can burn this to the ground, rebuild it into something right I'm not afraid and I'm not alone because you're with me in my dreams I won't give up on this perfect love
vi. cassandra pt. 2
Although it doesn't really matter now You use me, and I use you I'm your savior, you're my muse The best friend that you been to me but I wanna be your enemy You want a reaction You wear a red dress when you're in a bullfight You're drawing attention to your double life In dreams, I'm coming to find you and when I wake I want anyone else. 'Cause I don't love you, It's what I'm telling myself I’m hiding from you, ‘cause we are the same Wait, just wait for me and I'll come around My best friend that I've never seen That's turned you into my enemy No, it's all in my mind I feel I should save myself before this gets too real
vii. the strays
I'd still cheer for you ten years down the line Time stepped away from me Stray from this boring dream What must it be like with your world alight? How could I stay here and rust when I'm set to explode? You can outrun everything but the debts that you owe I'm numb from the distance If it's just the bored asking this kind of thing, where do we fit in? Take what you want from it We're the last ones left Get the others and cut to the next Scene To be truly free Freedom comes not from, but through me Do you remember when the stars were much higher? You would try to count them all But you grew tired - tired - tired
viii. dreams & reality
Dreams... are realities. You mean so much to me I can't forget the way, the choice that we made that day. Is it worth the risk that we take? Waiting and hoping from the side-lines But this is our moment, it's our chance to shine. 'Cause this feels better than the best thing 'Cause we are stronger than anything We've grown from all the things we've been through, And they couldn't break us if they wanted to. Your smile is brighter than the lights in the skies wont you tell me what is real? Lets write our names in history, Let's make these dreams reality,
ix. heaven-piercing giga drill
you came and dug me up into a world full of violence. So many faces, so many trials. They won't stop our evolution. Who do you think we are? Fight against your execution. Trust me and we'll fly, not fall. Tip the balance to risk it all. Together we can go so far. All the lights in the sky are stars. It follows everywhere I go. It carries the hope of humanity, and everything we know. Believe in me, who believes in you.
x. bōsōzoku symphonic
There's three parts to love, or so I believe. There's a part of you you lose, and another you receive. Here I break with the concept, though it's central to the piece. Leave my mark on the canvas, that only you can see. I deferred my happiness, for loneliness and time. But once I'm where I wanna be, you'll be far behind. And the chains that pull me down, slacken off when you're around. And it's comforting to know I'll rip out all the hooks from my skin so I can grow. Sometimes I disagreed, just to hear you scream. You were right, but I needed you to give emotion back to me. I'm not leaving you, I'm not leaving you!
Underline (2014)
i. are you listening?
All aboard this sinking ship No business here it's just relationships Should this mean more to me? Just join the tribe and feel accepted But cool don't come for free The rope that pulled me from the pit now hangs around my neck Is this the clue you wanted? Too cryptic for the rest Play the part of the victim if it puts your mind at ease Put all the blame on me So what you feel, is it nostalgia or love? Tell me now, are you really listening? When everybody tells you to stop, and that you’re never good enough; tell me now, are you really listening? Reach out for help, and she lets you down So gild your pockets, we'll watch you drown  Cause this means more to me It's hard when all I see Now we take control We fade into hindsight  Can this be realized?
ii. in the blind
I redesign, I realign. I redefine, and yet resign. My only hope: to feel. And when I phased out the "privileged" and the "purpose" I realized that art can never true be separated That should define who I will never be. Sorry. Cause this is the new way Still spinning cycles in my mind Hold me back and keep me down! Drop the weights, accept my fate, and trigger the explosion. Now keep the faith as illusions break and we'll show you something real. And when I reach out into event horizons will there be light and sound, or will it be just me?
iii. override (a)
Willing and wishing to break This won't be over so soon You'll claw yourself out of the womb Are you willing to die? To be born in the spotlight? I won't let you drown Are you willing to die? To be something? We patiently wait your return Rejecting your pitiful life You'll crawl on your hands and your knees You'll feast on the fear you receive And here in the alter you'll give your life for a reason to live Are you ready to die? Are you ready to die? To be more than they say you are? You'll be a mistake The child of the void and the ghost in the tape Can the ego you've sculpted endure the escape? I am willing tonight. I am willing to die to be something; trigger the override
Modern Synthesis (2016)
i. override [C]
Lay the new foundations; reprise Strange are the things that will come around Return to the question, I'm willing to die If this is real and this is anticipation Know it in your mind, hear it once and now you bear the load Are you ready for life? Make a stand in afterglow
ii. the contract
You’ve spent a lifetime locked in the same mindset You break the contract, and smile away your debt I play for closure, through the fear and the thrill of the fight Move a little bit closer, ‘cause you’re in for a jagged night I close my eyes; a toxic calling Just let it resonate, we call it suffering We know just who to trust this time I want you to give me what I need Lay waste to your beliefs, rebuild yourself for me I want you to come alive again I feign obsession, and abbreviate my views You're my possession, until I'm done with you I want you to feel as I feel I want you; submit yourself to me Your body and your mind; give it willingly Just sign the contract
iii. watchmaker
Serve or break the patterns that would be Middle child of eternity The creeping vines of anomie I never wanted to believe I never asked if I could stay Switch the pressures you relieve Sketching parallels to understand why I can't share your love I’m only building what I meant to do so many lives ago
iv. versus
I dream of it; am I a psycho? Watching you burn nothing else feels this perfect to me “Hands in the air”; salute or surrender? We adapt, mutilate, replicate and survive But choose a side The truth, the war; the rise, the fall The virus in our heads that infects us all Do you need it once more?  Can you remember what it is we’re dying for? (Fighting for?) Little soldier, little girl/boy who used to love this fucking world To love, to despise: such a fine line The hardest strikes always land when hands are tied The virus in our heads infects, manipulates our thoughts
v. processor
I took a chance to fly I want no role in your altercation I feel panic arise as rhetoric voices are feeding back again Blocking out vitriolic accusations: Was I listening? Because I want to be better on the inside I want to be better on the outside I fall asleep in the vestige I once called my home I pray for you, abide with the hopeless Regretting the choice but I can't turn away The modern synthesis compels me to start again I will have my way, I told you, I told you, I told you As I dispersonalise I taste a real life far from the pacifist you believe I exemplify I am the fury, I am hypocrisy The day I take control. The day you'll believe in me The path back home, the path I'll show you The path back home, where you'll wait for me, wait for me
vi. red queen
I said I don't mind, but you've touched a nerve The way you frame it, well, I got all I deserved Breathe deep and comfort the disturbed In the cave you fear what would you find? We played our hands together You lose me in your blood chemistry So we'd better try to match her/his speed Toast to the red queen/king and all she has seen Is it time to drink at your table? We can only wait and watch for so long Where you fall is not where you belong Unify behind false enemies Down other lines we would have been the same Beauty fades but still my charm deceives This night is shared and so we use each other ‘cause misery loves company And so it goes again A wasted day to vie for my affection Soon you'll come undone Can't fake a smile so they draw it on
vii. angel lust
how far did you deviate? The bridge collapsed but you took the stone From the ash an altar raised, you rebuilt your home And cynics they will try to tempt and change our minds We'll keep our faith alive, we'll raise our voices And scream it from our hearts: God loves her/his children we wait to receive a sign and the scraps of truth of what we believe The passion, the pain, our bodies ache, we cry your name
viii. the life of a ghost
Living the life of a ghost, there is no comfort for the mind Some sights we've tried to leave behind Always looking backwards down the road I will retain composure Lost in thoughts of where I am Stay 'til dawn, begin anew? With all honesty I want to be selfless To be human, but I'm beat and I'm worn-though I'm lost tonight I'm an ember, will you take my story? Pull back the curtain and walk towards the truth There is no comfort for the mind
ix. after the flags
Come on son do your country proud! Lead us down to the ocean and wash our hands of campaigns for the self-assured now Fading white in surrender and weary from the beating sun that blinds you Take a hit for catharsis Take a hit for them all After the flags they're selling off the wall I wanna die for a reason I wanna kill for a cause The fall won't kill but it's gonna hurt do you watch just to wince at this? we have been misled Straighten out your fiction As means to ends and ends to meaning guide you After the flags I'm nobody at all If I could reach you with reason You set us up for a fall After the flags you're nobody at all
x. nebula
This is my suffering, stuttering the words As all I can see is you Hey there you lost boy/girl, just look at what they've done to you They've poisoned the well of your mind but you'll make it through I'm falling to the call of you To love just an action, we overplay and overdo But now, there's no one beside me They've fallen behind
xi. panacea and the prelogue
Wait inside we'll talk a while I didn't mean to let the years go by Have we come to terms with the lesson that our fathers learned? Everything goes away I'd follow you, but not this time I'm sorry that I let you down, let you down, a lifetime ago I wanna say to all I leave behind, and to those I'll never find. That I need you to understand, understand, you're not on your own. What you value, is it worth the time? The only melodies that I could ever call mine were friendship and lust Will I feel absolved at the moment when we have it solved? Still it's never enough Lines fade out, but you illuminate the path back home, the path you've shown me
all your friends / new magiks / everybody gets a piece (2018)
i. all your friends
Habits tend to crystallize Did you waste it in the dark? Why were you sure it was real? you let all your friends tell you how to feel The archetypes; the ideal will soon embrace you when you let yourself heal Who are we to cauterise bleeding hearts that synchronise? Did he/she waste you in the dark? Choose your friends just to canonize you, as you let them fantasize
ii. new magiks
I'm watching the mirror crack to face my addiction This all feels a little strange, (A life fearing fiction) I better step outside It's all fine, from the shoreline The weight crushing down my heart, you don't want it, you don't wanna know A head full of dying stars, the shoulders that bear the load The wave crashes down on my heart You don't wanna know My mind's a rogue nation Just look how we weaponise carnal accusation It's all fine, a drop in the skyline Make it hurt Percolate emotion Boys/Girls lost to the ocean drown You were the bright newcomer I fucked you up that summer I didn't know, you let me know my mind is loaded
iii. everybody gets a piece
In time you'll grow, I fucking hope I'm outside looking in at all the time we're putting in Think I know what it means I won't say the right things just to open doors Don't waste your time in the studio I've been told to beg, steal and borrow I'm told it's not the way to go Nobody listens to the radio Everybody gets a piece Did you honestly say it might have been me? But all this while did you think of me, you know All this while, we were pure potential energy, dreaming Don't ask, you'll never get You never asked so you never got nothing Did you get all you wanted from me? You don't ask so you'll never receive Can't lose when you're playing for free
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eminentfocus · 3 years
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Bravery Despite The Wilderness
“Stop walking through the world looking for confirmation that you don’t belong.  You will always find it because you’ve made that your mission.  Stop scouring people’s faces for evidence that you are not enough.  You will always find it because you have made that your goal.  True belonging and self-worth are not goods; we don’t negotiate their value with the world.  The truth about who we are live in our hearts.  Our call to courage is to protect our wild heart against constant evaluation, especially our own.  No one belongs here more than you do.” - BRENE BROWN. BRAVING THE WILDERNESS.
Full transparency: I am tired y’all!  Not just sick of the “new normal” tired.  Not I had a busy week and need a quiet weekend, tired.  Not the kids have been rambunctious all week, we need a vacation, tired.  I am tired, tired.  I am tired of physically battling chronic illness.  I am tired of mentally rationalizing that any of this “new normal” is normal.  I am tired of emotionally shutting down because it’s “all just too much right now” while new blows continue landing.  I am battle worn and it clearly shows.  My hair hasn’t been washed or combed in almost two weeks.  I have masses of hair on areas of my body where there should not be any.  I change from running leggings back into lounging sweats and live there.  I haven’t scheduled an appointment with my doctor in almost a year.  I haven’t seen friends in months now.  I. Am. Tired. and it shows by my lack of self-care.
Everyone wanted to make a big deal when Brittany Spears chopped off her hair.  They said she was crazy, off the rails, unstable.  What if?  What if she had forgotten to take care of herself so long that she had no choice but to cut it off?  What if her shaving her head was the first step she took toward loving herself in months?  What if what you thought was the downward spiral for her, was actually the start of a healing journey, by caring for her hair for the first time in a long time?  I may have gotten to the point of the big chop myself. We all forgo ourselves when we feel bad, scientifically proven.  So how does one exactly go about walking bravely through the wilderness when they look and feel like a homeless crackhead?  Where we always start: exactly where we are.
Merriam-webster.com defines “bravery” as: “the quality or state of having or showing mental or moral strength to face danger, fear, or difficulty : the quality or state of being brave : COURAGE.”  Brittany was courageous.  She looked in the mirror and realized where she was.  She knew exactly what she had to do to fix it, and she just did the fucking work.  She knew she would become a mockery before she cut it.  Honestly, I don’t think she wanted to, but knew she had to.  That’s why I personally think she sat window side in the salon.  She was inviting the world in to watch her transform, knowing y’all would mock her.  She moved forward despite the fear.  She is brave.  She walked in her wilderness.  Her truth.  Be like Brittany.  Go chop your hair- Er… I mean go do self-care!
Wait, wait!  No.  Not bubble baths, candles and cheat meals.  Yeah, okay.  I mean those are good too, but they are not really the self-care I’m talking about.  That’s marketing mumbo jumbo to get you to purchase the hope of “feeling better” so they can make some money.  The self-care I’m talking about involves YOU, not THINGS for you.  Down the rabbit hole we go!
Caring for our feelings.  Western society teaches that you become stronger when you push your emotions down and bury them.  You show maturity or valor for not having a biologically programmed response to a trauma.  They paint an image that as you pick up all this emotional baggage you become stronger, wiser and smarter.  The actual truth without the sprinkles: You are turning yourself into a trash dump for toxicity.  Pushing down feelings does not do anything but create a pressure cooker.  Be brave enough to hit the release valve.  Sit with your feelings and find the value/moral that is being triggered.  Remember yesterday’s message about emotions- feelings are just signposts to keep us on the path toward our values.  Seeds fall to the ground in nature all the time.  They do not grow from the fall, but from the nurturing of water and light.  Your feelings too need airing out to stop weighing you down and inspire growth.  Bring them to light and water them by setting healthy boundaries when your values are being tested.
Caring for our boundaries.  Everyone pushes our buttons from time-to-time.  We sometimes offend people when we don’t mean to.  Sometimes people have the best intentions but lack an adequate understanding to actually help.  People are people.  We are all broken.  That’s why I talk so much about the importance of giving and receiving grace.  But what about the people or situations that aren’t just annoying or confusing?  What about the people who no matter the time of day, they leave you drained?  The ones who consistently go on doing the things that directly trigger your values, after you’ve told them it hurts.  The ones who exhibit behaviors by choice.  Do you know who they are?  No?  Start a journal of your emotional triggers, you’ll find them quickly!  Once you do know, create a cushion, do not go on a blocking rampage.  I mean it!  Just create a space for you to be in control of how their bullshit comes through the fan of life at you.  That’s what it is, a bullshit storm that they know will draw you back into their castle so they don’t have to be alone in misery.  Don’t fall for it.  If it’s not helpful to you, it’s just distracting bullshit.  Dig a moat and stay on your side.  You do not have to answer that facetime call.  You do not have to respond to that text message.  You. Can. Say. No.  Especially when you really mean it.  You have to control the fan here, not the shit flying through it at your face.          
Opening to vulnerability.  I know we all HATE, hate, hate this emotion.  We loathe it.  We conjure up images of death, disappointment, fear, loss of control.  We hide it and bury it until an “acceptable” breaking point, usually a tragedy.  I personally struggle with vulnerability.  The second you see me fall off the social radar, I’m struggling.  I shut down and close out.  I suffer alone as to not spread around my negativity.  Sound familiar?  What really is this monster of an emotion that we all want to keep a light on at night around?  Mark Manson so eloquently describes it as: “Vulnerability is consciously choosing to NOT hide your emotions or desires from others.  That’s it. You just freely express your thoughts, feelings, desires, and opinions regardless of what others might think of you.”  Vulnerability is simply authenticity.  Do you still hate it?    
Times of fear and uncertainty.  I’ll say it just because we are all already so sick of it: RONA.  It has been 299 days that our family has been social distancing, working, schooling, eating, exercising, growing and bickering, through a global pandemic.  299 days of news and media propaganda spewing.  299 days of losing the very things that we thought were safe.  299 days we have been watching the economy dump wondering if our financial situation would turn.  That is uncertainty.  That is palpable fear- a signpost that our values are disrupted.  So what do we do?  We feel, decide and adapt; just as we were created to do.  
Every positive has a negative.  Our brains automatically work on a negative feedback loop.  Western social norms go against the way we are organically wired.  Most of what we think we know is wrong and it has been scientifically proven.  We learned all of this together since the beginning of the new year.  We have grown.  Now that we know better, we have to choose to do better.  That’s the work.  We cannot go on doing the same things and expecting a different result, that’s insanity.  Take the first step into your wilderness.  Instead of seeing the losses of 2020, see the opportunities that it made room for.  Take one step forward from exactly where you are today.  Take another tomorrow.  Every day take one step.  Prioritize your time to include yourself.  Be brave. Hit that do not disturb button. Tell a friend that you are struggling and honestly answer their questions of concern to sit with your feelings. Schedule that walk with a friend you’ve put off for too long. It takes bravery to prioritize yourself but you and your values are worth it.  Do the fucking work and ignore the superego!
That’s self care. Not bath bombs.
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lightoverturesystem · 6 years
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“You may also notice that there is quite a bit of melancholy that runs through this song, which might feel a little bit unusual because the Type 3 [Ennegram] is known for this driven and sometimes upbeat personality. But the more I thought about it, the pressure that is underneath that need to succeed and be that incredible achiever, I think leaves the heart feeling a little bit lonely and a little bit tired.” - Ryan O’Neal
Some breakdowns that lead to life changing epiphanies are quick. They happen in a moment and leave you a different person in a second. Others come slow, a buildup over weeks or even years, but they all end the same, in change. Listening to this song has brought something that’s been bubbling to the surface. Nothing like having a heart-wrenching moment making you weak over doing dishes. I started my elementary years being a golden child. My mother was always showing me off, praising my intelligence and how ahead of others I was. Looking back, it’s nauseating. I’m sure she made many people feel bad in doing so. I was a straight A student until about 6th grade, not long after my sister came along. She replaced me in that role in the family when I started to show serious symptoms of the trauma and my mental illnesses finally became noticeable to others besides myself. While my sister took on this painful road when I was still young, in my formidable years it had done its damage. The feeling of never being good enough, the times I got yelled at for my grades, the disappointment... My mother was gone most of the time, working. She worked a 3-11 shift at a hotel, being gone right when I got out of school, and a 7 am shift at a coffee shop, being gone right as I was getting up. Sometimes I would catch her for a few minutes, then she’d be off again. As she was distanced from me, I yearned for her attention and praise. Doing well in life was how I got it. It’s hard to admit, even now, that at one point I needed her, even if normal for a child. It’s been since August I have seen her, when I briefly had to go to her home to collect my belongings. Just shy of 8 months away from her, I am learning all kinds of things about the world, and myself. I can now recognize a part of my trauma that wasn’t a huge event (known as a ‘Big T’) but has been something quietly hurting in the background. I felt I could never be good enough for my parents. Something a lot of us feel. “Three,” touches on that. “Maybe I’ve done enough, and your golden child grew up. maybe this trophy isn’t real love- and with or without it, i’m good enough.” As I am now separated from my family and toxic people, I can finally realize my true worth. I no longer need the approval of anyone to understand critically that I am worthy of love. This is something I have known objectively, but have struggled to really commit to my subconscious and believe. This song not only touches on family, but what I endured from my last two abusive relationships. My sense of self became distorted. Listening to what they said about me, I lost any idea of who I was. It’s a common thing for abuse victims, but it hurts all the same. The voices who would tell me terrible things that I was not good enough in one way or another, that would tell me I have changed for the worst, are finally being silenced. And in these tender moments between just myself and I, I am relearning my self worth all over again. No longer pushing my own dire mistakes back in my face, I am able to learn that they don’t define either myself or my sense of self worth. “maybe I’ve done enough, finally catching up. for the first time i see an image of my brokenness utterly worthy of love. maybe I’ve done enough. i finally see myself through the eyes of no one else. it’s so exhausting on this silver screen where i play the role of anyone but me. i finally see myself. ”
It has been exhausting to suppress so many sides of myself, and as I heal, I can only truly understand how deep this exhaustion has touched by refusing to suppress it as much as I can. As I grow in ways I shouldn’t have to, or should have already done so, I finally feel I’m coming into my own age. I finally feel an adult and not a teen just scraping by. For the first time, I am getting glimpses of myself without the opinions of others warping it. I am learning to see myself outside what others say about me. I am learning how to define myself, and judge my own character more accurately and critically than I ever have been able to. To understand my own mistakes and instead of breaking down over them, structure how I could have done better, and just how to do that next time. I am able to think of them objectively and not just attack myself. In these tender moments of vulnerability where alone I allow myself to just be myself, I find I am able to put down my guards with myself, and only feel what comes over me, without pushing it away. I am able to see who I am at my core, besides all the alters. I am able to see the vulnerable child I once was that still needs healing. And in my mind, I take this child and I wrap my arms around them and tell them I will love and protect their memory, and learned to cherish the adult they have become. “unabridged and overwhelmed, a mess of a story I’m ashamed to tell, but I’m slowly learning how to break this spell.” I have kept my story to myself and from myself my whole life. Now knowing my repressed memories, I have been able to talk openly about the abuse in ways I never could before. Not nearly desensitized and detached as I used to. I no longer brush it off to being in the past. I recognize I still have many feelings about it, and to come, as I work through it all. I am learning that I am not someone who, because of said story, should keep my mouth shut and take being shamed in any way possible. In this way, I am learning my worth too. “and i finally see myself. now i only want what’s real- to let my heart feel what it feels.” In the last year, I have spoke about my journey in my healing, self compassion, spirituality, and in the way I am searching only for a personal truth and of emotional literacy. One of the main things I have been trying so hard to focus on besides self-awareness, is practicing mindfulness in staying in the present moment. To be able to put down my worries for the future, and my memories of the past to enjoy or work on the present moment. It has so far resulted in a person who is able to calm themselves much more effectively in hard moments. “gold, silver or bronze hold no value here, where work and rest are equally revered. i only want what’s real- i set aside the highlight reel, and leave my greatest failures on display* (*worthy of love anyway)” Society tends to define our worth by what we can achieve in life, and our status. Our finances, our career, our success. For disabled people like myself, that can bring about a unique challenge in knowing our self worth depending on our disabilities and what our limitations are. Another part of this journey has been learning to undo this process, and understand my self worth is not what I can do, how I can perform, how I can function in life. My parents have done the same thing society has done, and pushed me many times past my limit with their ableism. Part of my new life has been to let myself just be disabled. To be able to take that title and learn what it means for me. Which may sound odd, but when you are hardly allowed your own disabilities, when you get punished and hurt for them, you don’t even allow yourself to realize the ways you may need help, or are in pain, or are disabled. You question yourself constantly. In my own safe space, I no longer need to perform for anyone. I am honest with my own capabilities and I am learning how to not be ashamed of them. I want to be honest with myself and my needs, learn to communicate them more directly, and no longer be living an unhappy lie. Often my worth came from what I could do around the house, how I could please people. I set these aside, and ask myself what can I do for me. To be able to just take a moment and allow myself to feel emotion for the first time is an incredible experience. It can be overwhelming, and terrifying. But when it yields greater results in the long run, it is worth it. Sure, I have felt pain, and more consuming grief than I have ever felt since I have started. I knew that was coming. But I also feel an incredible capacity for love and pure joy that I have not ever felt, an untapped source of empathy and compassion just lying in wait. When I can have a moment with my lover that is finally focused on the moment and not anything else, of the feeling of feeling good, and not worrying when it will end and all go wrong is worth the pain and suffering of healing. As I have been creating my own living space, I have made it a priority to place as much value in my rest and just doing nothing for the first time than ever. I have had to learn to relax, a concept that is so odd to say out loud, but makes sense when you take my life experiences into account. If I had not done these things, I would just constantly be working myself to the bone trying to feel good enough to feel as though I deserve the care, effort and time the friend housing me has given me. Living with that in my last house was awful. I’ve always ached to be seen, an invisible child left in the dust. I’ve never felt good enough. Not for my parents, not for friends, not for my lovers, not for myself. And for the first time, I have self worth. I can dictate who comes and goes out of my life because I actually value it to not have people mess it up and treat me badly.
The hardest thing I am learning is to be comfortable with my mistakes, to not let them haunt me as hard. I am learning to set these mistakes aside. I have grieved and wished to change them too long than they deserve. Some of my bigger mistakes have been done like this for over a decade. I’m learning to put them aside, and with the help of my therapist, lover and friends, and learn that I am worthy of love anyway, despite them. Songs like these help. I slump down over the kitchen counter as the song reaches its end, and for the first time, I believe I am worthy of love. “3′s so value authenticity that I knew the lyrics needed to somehow highlight that wherever possible.”
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the-man-of-mirrors · 6 years
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Doki Doki Literature Club
I caught the hype and noise around the game, so my partner and I decided to play through it, and i’ll be damned if it wasn’t one of the most well made horror games I've seen (which isn’t a high bar, technically, because I usually avoid horror like the plague -- but this was still really good), and it was the first time I ever “got got” by a dating sim -- by low key falling for one of the characters. Just Monika
Spoilers below this point 
So I’m going to, instead of walking through the plot, which is really the treasure of the game -- go play it -- I’m going to discuss the characters, and why the game’s writing caught me as it did. Let’s start in order of importance, both to plot and to me.
Sayori -- I’ll begin by saying, for those of you that played the game, if you went with Sayori as your first girl, that’s just wrong. She’s like your little sister! Moving on, Sayori is perhaps the most accurate depiction of major depressive disorder I’ve ever seen in a visual or written medium. She works so hard to make everyone else happy, because she feels like it’s the only way to get them to stop “wasting” time and energy on her. She puts on a mask every day at club, and is stated to have done so every day of her life, because she wants other people to not think about her. She think’s she’s a worthless, selfish, weak human being, when she is anything but. She doesn’t understand why others would want her around. 
Now, I have depression, though the doctor says its not a terribly bad case, and as a man my symptoms tend to differ from those of women sufferers. I’ve been with girls that have depression like this, and I’ve had the same kind of frustrations as the idiot MC does with those feelings, and that pit-of-your stomach feeling when you don’t know what to do, and you know that you are failing that person. I both understand the worthlessness Sayori feels (to an extent) and the frustration of the MC. Sayori is a very powerful character because of that, and is very much one of the game.
YURI -- Best Girl. Only talked about Say-o first because of plot reasons, I’m sure you understand. So, Yuri was the character that snared me, and did so quite neatly and elegantly. As my partner is fond of telling me, I have a very defined...type. I, as you know, am both an avid reader, and a writer (despite my low activity on this page, I apologize, school gets in the way of creation). Another person having those qualities, especially when those qualities are focused in the deep worlds of fantasy and science fiction (and horror I guess, I do enjoy Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe a great deal), is like having a light turn on inside me. So that’s one box ticked off. To continue, she is very shy and introverted, and only really opens up when she’s talking about something she’s truly passionate about, or if she’s alone with you, and I understand how that feels, though I’ve opened up in the past years. To continue, I have, apparently, some kind of Christ complex, where I want to walk into the lives of people like Yuri and just hold them, and tell them everything is going to be okay. I want to be that person that saves them, I want to make them not be hurting anymore. Most importantly, I understand what it’s like to feel truly, truly alone, and I can’t bear to see someone live like that -- not when I know I can be the rock they lean on, or (and I’ll regret saying this -- my partner will probably read this post and tease me about it) be like their service dog, dedicated to loving and helping them for as long as it takes.
 As I write this, I cannot but help and think that this mental pattern of mine might be terribly codependent, deriving a large amount of my self-worth from pulling other people away from the brink of the abyss many of us know too well. But that’s not the entirety of who I am, or the only source of worth, so I’m sure I’ll be fine. 
Back to Yuri. She’s anxious and both terrified of being hated, while hating and being overly harsh on herself. She is convinced that her weird hobbies (and some of them ARE weird) are justified reasons for people to hate and dislike her, which just isn’t true. So when you let her open up to you, it’s like watching a sunrise over clear mountains -- some things are still trapped and blocked away, and will be for a little while, but there is light now. I hadn’t felt that sunrise since the early days of my current relationship, and it is addicting. Once she realizes that what she likes (for the most part, but we will get there) won’t push you away, she really blossoms. That said, there is still a darkness to be addressed, and that darkness is her (even before act II) obvious habit of self-harm, and the question of her sado-masochistic tendencies (the bloodied finger scene -- which I found really cute -- and the statement from Monika about how she harms for the rush). I’ve been in a lot of relationships where self-harm was there, like that black looming shadow, glaring down on my partner. It’s one of those things that simultaneously breaks my heart, and puts me dangerously close to the stereotypical “I AM MAN. I MUST FIX.” mindset, and people don’t like to be “fixed”. Especially if they are in that state of mind. I suspected she did this from the first interaction -- as my partner says, I have a type, and I can read the signs well. This game is so well written -- but when she was rolling down her sleeve in MC’s house, that was all the confirmation I needed. Whether she actually does it for a rush, as Monika states in act 2 (this of course, being after the point Monika tampered with best girl, and is trying to actively remove her), which is heavily doubtful to me, or is doing so to punish herself, or is doing so simply feel at all, I wanted to help. She embodies that social anxiety and isolation that I know so well, and is also a fairly realistic depiction. 
Do I think she, the actual Yuri (yes, It’s a game, it’s just code, but these characters are so realistic that real life parallels matter, so I will address them as such), self harms for a rush that the pain and blood brings? No, the only trustworthy evidence to that theory is the scene where you prick your finger, and she puts that finger in her mouth, and that could be a number of things, from wanting to make it better (without knowing how), to acting on the clear sexual tension in the room (please?), to what I’ll talk about in a minute. Does she have a sado-masochistic fetish? Probably. I’m a sadist myself, my partner is a masochist, so I understand that feeling to an extent. Does she find blood play hot? Perhaps, maybe in the same way some people find rape-play (yes, it’s a legitimate thing. No, I don’t care to argue that with anyone) hot -- from a distance, or maybe only with slight imitations. These questions are interesting ones, and it made me want to get to know this fictional character better. It’s part of why I’m really annoyed that the there is no way to get a good ending for each character just Monika. 
It’s also really nice that Yuri had objectively the best body and the cutest fucking demeanor in the game. She also looked very, very cute in that sweater and it’s great. 
Natsuki -- I don’t like her, but I haven’t truly explored her character arc yet. I get the definite impression that her home life is traumatizing and out of control, which is why she is so combative and assertive in the club. She is scrambling for any ounce of control. I’ve seen it before, and while her personality turns me off harder than scat porn, I want to know what’s going on. 
Monika -- I saved her for last. I simultaneously wanted to kill her and ask her “why?” for most of act 2, and actually from the end of Act 1 when Sayori said “She was right, I should just ---”. I wanted to murder this girl, as memeable as she is (so, so gloriously memeable). It felt SO GOOD to delete her. So when she came back from the dead, to SAVE you, it felt so strange. She is a walking fourth wall break. I can’t really describe her well, just go play the game. 
All in all, the game is incredible. Yuri describes my type to a “T”, the only thing missing is that she isn’t a redhead. The characters (aside from the idiot MC) were very realistically written and pulled at my heart in ways that, in all honesty, shouldn’t have been so effective -- they are just code, right? 
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I'm probably late to the show, but for that DVD commentary thing, how about the ending scene of The Watchtower, when Shirayuki goes up into the tower and Obi finds her.
Ooooooh… this one. Yesssssss this one.
The Watchtower was written primarily train of consciousness, but it ultimately mimicked early feminist literature. It was as if Charlotte Perkins Gilman descended into me and posed a question: What would it take to break someone as mentally strong as Shirayuki?
The answer? It’s a lot easier than you may guess. And for a lot more traditional reasons than anyone would presuppose.
I know I get a lot of grief for making Obi suffer in my fics, but the thing is… he does it so well and so openly for a male lead. Someone does something nice for him or says thank you and he’s just ruined by it. His suffering is beautiful in a way because he is in the midst of a healing process after a lifetime of neglect and abuse in the manga. 
Shirayuki, though, I would argue, has had a similar degree of suffering in her life. I would never go so far as to say one person has had it worse or better than another person because suffering is relative to the person experiencing it: However, Shirayuki’s suffering is something I think we’ve become numb to because of the way she overcomes things. She lost her entire family, she was driven out of town, she was then FORCED to go back to her country and into hostile territory with a man that was going to force her to be in his harem, she has been kidnapped who knows how many times and she has been objectified more than the typical woman her entire life. 
Her pain, her life, her trials and tribulations… they are all very feminine. And therefore it often gets passed off as unimportant or par the course.
Therefore, in this fic and the fic following, I put her through the fucking ringer and I kept Obi and everyone else out of it until it was over. She is central and you are not allowed to look away or be distracted by anyone else.
Her small pharmacy is dismantled that very day and she doesn’t think she has wept this hard even when her body delivered her children far too soon for them to even take form.
As I have mentioned elsewhere: Shirayuki has long been defined by her work. It is proof that she is more than her parts and it is something that has been her focus for most of her life. And it is stolen away from her. More than anything else in this fic, this is what breaks her. This is where she teeters at the edge of her sanity because she is well and truly trapped with no outlet in sight.
“Look at the songbird,” a wistful voice dances across her skin, causing goosebumps to rise all over her body, “trapped in her gilded cage.”
And if he hadn’t shown up right when he did, the ending of The Yellow Wallpaper would have very much been the next step in Shirayuki’s life.
Her breathing starts to come too quickly, making sharp little sounds as she wonders if she has truly lost her mind and is now seeing apparitions. “Obi…?” she whispers, perhaps too hopeful, her voice too high pitched.
Now, of course, Shirayuki is thinking that she’s gone mad. People have been making comments about her losing it for some time, and now here she is, in the middle of the night, with a man she hasn’t seen in over a year but was so very central to some of the best years of her life.
His body tenses a little, head turned to look out the window and away from her. His voice gravelly and full when he replies, “What have they done to you while I was gone, Miss?”
He looks like he expects her to be angry, and she should be. He wasn’t here when she needed him the most. She knows she has every right to be furious.
Without giving too much of the game away (it’s a prompt), Obi was convinced to go check on Shirayuki and that is the whole reason he is here. He had been ignoring intel from Wistal Palace with all of his might because he just couldn’t hear about how happy and lovey the newlyweds were. And now he shows up and she is inconsolable, crying in a tower, no attendants in sight, underweight and miserable and he doesn’t know what happened. He left her with a storybook ending and he comes to find her in the midst of a nightmare that he doesn’t know how to get her out of.
BUT, Obi being Obi… he is scared that she’ll blame it on him, because he failed her. Again.
But she can’t, even if she tried. Her friend. Her dear, sweet friend is here and she is filled with an overwhelming desire to touch, to prove that this is real, to show herself that this isn’t just another hopeful dream that she’ll wake up from. She rushes towards him and he looks towards her just as she tackles him flat against the wall. “Obi,” her joy is muffled into his jacket, feeling his heat bleeding through his clothes, his heartbeat steadily tapping against her cheek. “You’re here,” she clenches her fingers tight into his sleeves, refusing to take the risk of letting him go. “I thought I had lost you!”
There is a long pause before his hand rests gently on her back. And the relief she feels at that small touch is like a balm on her entire being.
“Forgive me, Miss,” he breathes, swallowing hard enough for her to hear. “I thought I wasn’t going to be able to bring myself back, but… I was wrong. I couldn’t stay away from you forever.”
Really, can we imagine any length of separation between the two of them NOT ending with them clutching at each other? Nope. N O P E. At least I can’t. ^_^
“Why are you up here in such a cold place by yourself crying, Miss?” he asks as his thumbs chase away the tears on her cheeks. She can feel his words vibrating inside her from standing so close. It hurts, almost, how good this feels.
This is the first real comfort that Shirayuki has been provided in MONTHS and the first time she has been touched in FOREVER. Shirayuki is a very touchy person and I think starving her of affection is one of the worst things that could happen to her, besides not being able to work. So she is finally getting that physical affection that she craves and hearing a long missed voice and it is an incredibly healing act for her, even at the surface level. It’s like putting a balm on a burn- it takes away the pain temporarily, but the injury is still there.
His question prods at the gashes in her heart and her eyes swell once more, “I can’t do this Obi,” she whispers, the quiet terror she has felt these last several months making her voice too thick for her throat. “I’ve made a terrible mistake…”
Words spill out of her, the entirety of the year purging itself from her self-imposed silence. She feels like she is going to vomit from the relief of expelling it all, sweat dotting the edges of her hair line. His eyes, golden in the faint starlight, looks at her in a way she hasn’t seen since she was rescued from pirates all those many years ago.
And here’s the kicker: She ultimately pulls all of her hardship down on herself (like most abuse victims will). Since he left, she had no one who would listen to her troubles without them making her feel like she was being childish or common or not worth listening to. But Obi has always been a good listener and he is hearing every trespass against her like they are crimes that he has committed in absentia.
She feels tears threaten again, but every bit of her feels nothing but pain and there are no tears left to shed. She’s run out. “I don’t want to go back, Obi…” and her voice is desperate now, hoarse.
His gaze flickers up to hers, and the faint light of approaching dawn is caught there. He looks at her for a long moment, considering, before he pulls away from her entirely. She feels an incredible shock and misses the weight of him against her almost immediately.
He walks towards one of the windows, looking hard out into the distance, and he seems to be… making a decision. Without a word, his deft hands unlatch the window before him, throwing it wide and letting the panes crash against the unyielding stone walls. A strong gust of wind pushes its way inside, the pre-dawn air cleansing the room of her whispered secrets and abnormal thoughts.
Her eyes widen as he turns to her, a faint smile on his lips, and she feels something that she hasn’t felt in a long time shiver in her chest. His hand gracefully extends, palm up towards her. “Then how about we run away together this time, Miss?”
And then here: When he realizes that everything he has done to help her has been for naught. He wanted so very hard to believe that he put blinders on that he normally wouldn’t have, but being away from her and seeing the results of his actions makes him realize that Zen is not taking care of her. He didn’t fix his bad habits when they got married and Shirayuki is almost broken.
He knows she would never ask him to do something like this unless she was certain, so when he opens that window and gives her his hand, both of their fates are sealed.
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theroseandcrown · 3 years
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The Rose & Crown: Chapter Twenty-Three (Part One)
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Rating: M Chapters: 23/24
Summary: The Doctor falls further than he ever has before in his quest to find the end of the loop. He has abandoned his name and everything that comes with it in the hope that Clara will stay with him in their altered reality. It is now up to Clara to bring the Doctor back to life before she loses him forever.
Read this story on another platform: Archive of Our Own Fan Fiction WattPad
The air felt frigid and damp upon his pale skin, bringing with it a sense of familiarity that only the oncoming storm could provide. Far off in the distance beyond the rigid mountainous highlands, a streak of lightning claimed the pale evening sky like splintering glass. The earth rumbled beneath his feet as the boom of thunder soon followed. His calculating eyes were fixed upon an unmasked figure standing several paces in front of him. Her long black cloak rustled with the howling wind. Neither of them made a move as the tension in the air grew between them. His hearts raced with anticipation at her benighted presence before him. Whatever reason for her ultimate quest to discover his location, there was only one thing he needed to know.
“How did you find me?”
********************
Amidst the silence that had befallen the interior walls of the TARDIS main control room stood the form of her silver-haired Time Lord on the upper platform. A maroon-coloured velvet jacket hung on display upon the metal coat rack beside him. He hesitantly reached out and allowed his hand to run its course over the fabric of the sleeve as if searching for imperfections. Lifting the jacket by its collar, he removed it from its position of rest and gracefully placed on his armour. His fingers slowly traced their way down the seams of the lapels towards the buttons on the front as the garment embraced him like an old friend. Inhaling a deep breath in preparation of what was to come, he took hold of the railing and descended the stairs. He came to a sudden stop near the last few steps as his eyes met with Clara’s favourite chair, now empty and cold. He was alone. The memory of their last conversation from that very spot bled into his mind so clearly, it was as if she never left it.
The Doctor stood quietly at the console, his attention fixed to the view-screen as he manually updated the TARDIS interface with the data from his most recent maintenance. Though tedious and time-consuming, he rather enjoyed the distraction from the constant apprehension he felt towards their impending future. Patience had never been one of his strongest attributes. He was a man of action, constantly moving forward, the first to react whenever the moment called for it. His own personal agenda for any given circumstance had almost always paralleled each other; swoop in, save the day, rinse and repeat. But now, as the anticipation lingered in the air, he felt every bit of it tightening the rope bound around his hands. Unless all the cards were to suddenly play out in his favour, he had no choice but to hang up his coat in defeat. As strange and exposing as that felt, after everything he and his companion had been through so far, perhaps it wasn’t so terrible a thought after all.
Clara took to her reading while he worked, her legs comfortably propped on the railing as she took up occupancy in her chair. Her fingers softly grazed the familiar pages of Jane Austin’s “Pride and Prejudice” for what felt like the hundredth time since coming aboard. The brief moment of descent into the world of a truly enthralling story was the closest she could come to exploring on her own without the threat of danger lurking in any given direction. The people she discovered there were oftentimes the only example of humanity she had left to cling to. Being the sole representative of the human race aboard the TARDIS, the only person qualified enough to remind her of where she came from was herself.
His wistful eyes shifted towards her for a brief moment before returning to the screen. “If you’re hoping to discover an alternate ending, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” he offered.
“I don’t read it because I know how it ends,” she noted, her attention drawn towards the page. “No matter how many times I’ve read it, I always find something I hadn’t noticed before. An unrealized emotion, a meaningful glance, a deeper understanding of the characters. It’s as if I’m meeting them for the first time all over again. I find it quite inspiring, actually.”
“If you say so.”
She frowned at his predictably apathetic response and did her best to ignore him, seeing no point in defending her obsession with the written word any further. Returning to the story, she tried to concentrate on the words and phrases in front of her but found her mind beginning to wander. “Can I ask you something?” she inquired from behind the pages.
“I assume you’re being rhetorical,” he replied, reluctantly engaging himself in her idle conversation between tasks.
She lowered the book and closed it neatly in her lap before swinging the chair around to face him. “Why were you so afraid to tell me how you really felt?” she asked delicately as if the question might shatter the illusion he had created around their friendship to protect himself. Though she bore a great appreciation for how far their relationship had come, she often found herself revisiting the memories of their past with an entirely new perspective. Every word, every touch, every glance in her direction had all been called into question ever since the day his true feelings for her were revealed. Perhaps the patterns had always been there but until recently had gone unnoticed. She wasted so much energy trying to decipher who they were to each other that she failed to realize she might have been searching in the wrong place.
“You want to discuss this now?” His brow raised at her inquiry as he continued to monitor the ship’s diagnosis. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m sort of in the middle of something,” he informed her.
“Well, can’t we do both?” she prodded further.
He sighed concededly and thought to himself, ‘Sure, why not?’ He took a moment to find the words to reply that would sound the most meaningful. It wasn’t often he thought about the parameters of their relationship nor felt the need to devise a scientific explanation to define it. They simply just... were. Though confident in his ability to express his love for her, he knew very well that it hadn’t always been that way. “If you must know, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I doubted myself and my ability to become the man I wanted to be for you. I still do, but I’m willing to try,” he answered, fully prepared to leave it at that.
“Have all your romantic relationships been this difficult for you?” she pressed on.
“Have I been trapped inside a paradox loop with all of my previous relationships? No, I’d say this is a first,” he answered, returning to his work.
“You know what I mean.”
Exhaling another exasperated breath, he had little choice but to accept the fact that she had no intention of backing down from the conversation. “Time Lord courtships work very differently from what humans are accustomed to. Genetically speaking, my people mate for life so they must be very sure of whom they wish to mate with.”
Her eyes lowered to the floor for a moment, unable to help but feel slightly disenchanted by his answer. Had their romantic involvement with each other not been forged by unfortunate circumstances, there would have been no way to know which direction their relationship would have gone. “It couldn’t have been easy for you then, not having a choice,” she replied.
He stood silently for several moments as he recalled the anger he felt after discovering the terms of their friendship had been violated by Missy’s hands. Though difficult to accept at first, over time it had allowed him to overcome his fear of letting Clara into his hearts. There had been no manual available to advise him on how to feel for her, but her patience and compassion for him were well worth the struggle it took to learn. He remembered the pain he once harboured as punishment for longing to be with her. A pain he was far more willing to suffer than face the devastating thought of her absence from his life altogether. “Some things are easier to live without than others,” he professed softly, his eyes stealing a brief glimpse of her before returning to the screen. “Nothing is ever easy when you’re truly invested in it enough. That’s what makes losing it so hard. Our friendship was far more complex than the choices we were forced to make. You still had your whole life ahead of you. You had the freedom to choose to stay with me of your own free will. Or you could have left the TARDIS and never looked back if you wanted to. It may not have been the choice I would have wanted, and I cannot say without a doubt that it wouldn’t have broken me severely to see you go, but it still would’ve been yours to make.”
Meeting his familiar form with her sympathetic expression, she finally came to understand all that he had sacrificed at the cost of getting too close to her. The love he had imprisoned inside himself was his only protection against the pain he’d endure if she ever decided to leave him for someone else. She could only imagine what that must have been like for him when they were apart. If only she had known sooner, things might have turned out much differently between them. “And how does it make you feel knowing that if I had to do it all over again, I would still choose you?”
Turning around to face her, he smiled warmly and gazed into her eyes. “Deeply honoured,” he answered tenderly. “I can only hope you feel the same. That you bear no resentment for what I’ve done to you. No matter what may happen to us in this cycle or the next, I promise to always love, cherish, and protect you for as long as you’ll have me.”
Charmed by his words, a coy smile formed over her lips. “Are you proposing, Doctor?” she teased.
The question caught him by surprise. “Is that what you want?” he asked, unsure of how to respond.
Taking a moment to consider her answer, she set her reading aside and lovingly glanced in his direction. “No,” she confessed as she stood and made her way towards him. She placed her hands in his and held them with delicate care. “I already have everything I could ever ask for. What we have is very special to me. I don’t want anything to change between us, Doctor.”
“Nor do I,” he agreed, not wishing to lose any part of what they were to each other.
“Besides, going into battle against a lunatic on a prison planet isn’t exactly how I’d imagine spending my first days as a married woman.”
“Ah, yes. I could see how that might spoil the moment,” he admitted, genuinely adoring every second she remained in his grasp. As he held her, he thought about how many times he tried to tell her how she made him feel yet the words would not escape him. He was so afraid of what she would say that he buried them deep inside himself. But now, everything they were before had been altered by their intense love for each other. The very nature of their relationship was the sole cause of his inner turmoil, the reason he’d been avoiding his pursuit of reaching the end. It was only a matter of time before he’d run out of excuses for keeping them there. Even the ship’s never-ending maintenance was just another unnecessary diversion from his original plan to save them. Though he knew he couldn’t lie to her forever, perhaps he no longer had to. Perhaps this was his chance to finally open her eyes to another possibility in front of them. An opportunity to show her what they could truly become together. “Although, there’s always the alternative,” he implied.
“Alternative?” she asked curiously.
Gazing into her eyes, he felt the strong sensation of nervousness rising within him. He found himself both scared and vulnerable standing before her, hoping that even the smallest piece of how far their relationship had come was worth risking what he was about to say. Glancing towards their held hands, he lightly stroked his thumbs over their surface and tried to find the courage to expose his greatest weakness for her. Though his apprehension in the matter made it difficult to find the right words, his hearts would not allow him to retreat from them now. “What would you say if I asked you to consider sharing a life with me here inside of this reality?”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, unable to prevent her confusion from expressing itself on her face. “What are you talking about?”
Inhaling a deep breath, he pushed his fears aside and forced himself to continue. “What if I could offer you a reason to stay in the loop with me, a chance to create a future of our own together?” Hesitating for only a moment, he lowered her hand and gently placed it against her middle. “Starting here.”
She found herself taken aback by his gesture. As her mind began to process what he was asking, she quickly realized how bewitched he had become by her ability to carry for him. She believed his sudden increase in intimacy over the past few weeks was his way of savouring their last moments together. But in reality, it was all part of his greater purpose to seduce her into conceiving his child so she would agree to stay with him. “Is that what you’ve been doing to me? Bedding me night after night to ensure I fall pregnant again?” she accused him.
“Would it be wrong of me if I said yes?” he asked, attempting to mask any sign of guilt behind his endearing expression.
“Doctor, we’ve talked about this,” she scolded.
“I know, and I haven’t forgotten the risks,” he assured her. “But if you believe I’m prepared to throw everything we have away so easily, then you are greatly mistaken. How can you possibly expect me to give you up when I’ve become addicted to the happiness you bring to me? You’ve given me more to live for in this life than I ever thought possible. From the very first moment I felt our child’s warmth thriving inside of you, my craving for it has only grown stronger. And now that I’ve seen what we are truly capable of, can you blame me for trying?”
She sighed with mild confliction at his words, knowing how badly they both wanted this life despite what it would mean for the rest of the universe. They had set off on this journey together with the understanding that the path in front of them would be a difficult one. She just hadn’t realized how quickly he would slip away from being who he was meant to be the longer they stayed on it. Though it pained her greatly to see him so lost inside, she couldn’t bring herself to fault him for wanting so desperately to provide her with a family of her own. “I don’t blame you, Doctor,” she answered softly.
“I’m relieved to hear you say that. Because, in a way, this is all your fault if you think about it,” he added, smirking to himself.
“Wait, hang on. My fault?” she inquired defensively. “How so?”
He smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her closer. “You make it very difficult to resist you.”
Though flattered by his love-struck diversion, she rolled her eyes and attempted to bring him back to reality. “Very charming, but we both know the only way to ensure the future is to see this through to the end. I don’t see how getting me with child on purpose is going to help us defeat Missy.”
“Perhaps we won’t have to. As long as we can convince her you haven’t given birth yet, she’ll never know the difference. We could buy ourselves an eternity together,” he offered, amused by his misbehaviour.
“Right. Just so I’m clear, the new plan is to keep me pregnant forever, never age, and hope Missy doesn’t catch on,” she frowned, realizing how even more ridiculous that sounded out loud.
“You’re right, that’ll never work. Two of those things can be easily maintained. The other would require a miracle worker,” he teased.
Her eyes narrowed at his attempt at humour. “Not all of us have the luxury of being a two-thousand-year-old stick insect. You’re lucky I still tolerate you.”
“Admit it, this isn’t the first time you’ve been swept away by my charm,” he remarked bearing a wide flirtatious grin.
“Maybe,” she smiled amorously and wrapped her arms around his neck. “But now I have the advantage. You’ve revealed your true intentions to me. All I have to do is resist you.”
“You can certainly try,” he cheekily replied, bringing his hands to rest upon the sides of her waist. “But I must warn you, I’m very resourceful.”
“Is that so?” she asked, concealing a small laugh behind her smile.
“You should probably surrender now. It’ll save time,” his grin brightened.
“Oh, I see. And this is the part where I’m supposed to let you win, is it?” she wondered, raising a curious brow at their light-hearted role-play.
“Perhaps I already have,” he suggested, his eyes lowering to the space between them. His hand slid from her waist and pressed against her belly, holding her body firmly to the console. “It could already be too late for you.” He allowed his fingers to spread between her hips as he searched deep inside of her for any sign of life. Though it was still too early in her development to determine how far along she might be, he remained hopeful it wouldn’t be much longer before he had caused her to swell for him again. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.”
She closed her eyes and gasped from under her breath as he applied a deep pressure to her womb. The sensation of it quickly ignited the fire within her as he worked to stimulate her maternal appetite for him. His power over her was exhilarating. She felt every beat of her heart as it quickened in rhythm. Her breathing deepened the more control he placed over her. Unable to help herself from falling hopelessly under his spell, she opened her eyes to meet his tender gaze. “Be careful what you wish for, Doctor,” she whispered, pulling him towards her to embrace him with a passionate kiss.
His body pressed against hers as he became lost in her arms. His strong desire to protect her was made even more aware by his unrelenting hunger for her conception taking priority in his mind. It gave him a sense of vitality knowing that as long as they remained entrapped together, his claim over her fertility would forever be bound to him. Her incessant longing to fill the void inside of her with life consumed him. He could feel her desperation for it pulsating beneath his palm. He would do anything to provide her with the relief she required. He knew the battle to save themselves from the virus’s control over them had been lost long ago, and he no longer cared. Slowly removing himself from her lips, he leaned away to see her face in every detail. “I want this life with you, Clara. A chance to prove to you that I have what it takes to protect you and our children. A chance to care for you and stand by your side as they grow within you. What we are capable of creating together has only happened between our species a handful of times in the entire history of the known universe. Don’t you see? We are compatible, you and I.” His glance returned to her middle where he stroked her delicately, his fingers grazing over the thin fabric of her dress. “I can make you happy in this new life, just as you have made me. All you have to do is say yes.”
Her heart fluttered so fiercely in her chest it was almost frightening. The moment between them became still with anticipation as she searched inside of herself for an answer. He was offering her a choice. A choice he no longer felt he could be trusted to make on his own anymore. He was asking to be released from the terrible burdens he’d been harbouring within him all this time. As she peered deeply into his eyes, she could see how utterly torn he was inside. The man she knew him as before never would have allowed himself to become so divided by which decision was easy and which was right. Whatever demons had been the cause of his internal battle with himself, he no longer had the strength to fight them. It had taken her until this very moment to realize that the man standing before her had been drowning in the sea of his addiction for her longer than he would ever dare to admit. If she had any hope of rescuing him, she would have to be strong enough for both of them. Her eyes fell to where his hand caressed her middle and gently placed her hand over his. “You know how badly I want this, Doctor. I want more than anything for us to be a family, to have a life of our own we can share together. You’ve seen inside my mind. You’ve been inside my dreams. You don’t need to prove yourself to me to know that I would carry your child in a heartbeat if you asked me to.” Taking a deep disheartened breath, her eyes met his again. “But is this the world you truly wish our children to be raised in? To be trapped here on the TARDIS forever because someone out there will always want to hurt them? Have you forgotten about our daughter or what must happen to her if we were to stay?”
His eyes narrowed as they passed back and forth to each of hers, studying her expression with guarded precision. “Of course I haven’t,” he answered defensively, suddenly realizing his terrible mistake in assuming she would be on his side in this. Releasing her from his grasp, he slowly stepped away and took a moment to find the words that would explain what had been eating him up inside. He ran a hand down his face and attempted to mask his increasing disappointment as his thoughts began to reorder themselves. Once composed, he looked to her more sternly. “Have you any idea what you are asking of me? Do you not realize that I am being forced to make an impossible choice? Either Quynn becomes everything she was raised to be, or never exist at all. You might as well be asking me to kill her. Is that what you want?” He watched as his companion’s eyes lowered to the floor in conflicted silence. He sighed heavily and tried again to appeal to her heart. “I reached through to her, Clara. I know I did. Somewhere out there our daughter is trying to find us. For all I know, we could be walking straight into a trap. But if I’m wrong, then there’s still a chance she could be a part of our lives. As long as she is on our side, there will be no army for us to run from. Her terror will be at an end. Together we could be sparing countless species across the universe from death and destruction. And in return, we could have everything we’ve ever wanted right here. We would never have to leave this reality. Can’t you understand? We’ve been given a chance to start a new life together, a chance to have a family of our own. Isn’t that winning enough?” he pleaded, desperate for her acceptance.
“Winning? Is that what you think this is?” she responded, her eyes lifting from the floor to meet his. “When we first started this, I knew there was a chance I would never see my friends or family again. That they would never know what happened to me. But I chose to stand by your side because you made me believe we were going to change the future together. That the lives of those who had suffered at the hands of Quynn and her army would be saved. If we stay, then you will be condemning the billions of people she has killed to their fate. They will die over and over again for all of eternity because of her.”
Turning his back on her, he approached the edge of the platform and gripped the railing to steady himself. It took everything in his power to calm his emotions. “Everyone dies eventually, Clara. I can’t save them all,” he replied solemnly.
“Yes, you can,” she insisted, taking a step towards him. In his silence, her underlying heartbreak began to take its toll on her. “What happened to you, Doctor? What happened to the man I fell in love with?”
Losing all control of himself, he quickly turned around to face her and allowed his voice to rise with intensity. “He became a coward! Is that what you want to hear? That I’m afraid of things going back to the way they were before, spending my days pining away for you, unable to tell you how I feel?”
“What are you saying, that you want Missy to win?” she insinuated, astonished by his confession. She caught herself staring at him in disbelief as his expression quickly shifted towards that of ineradicable defeat at her inquiry. “Oh my god. You are, aren’t you? You’re giving up. You intend to put a child in me so you can give up being the Doctor,” she accused him.
“Maybe so,” he confessed without the slightest hint of hesitation.
“But you are the Doctor. There is no one else,” she replied imperatively as if the man standing before her had died leaving no trace of his former existence behind to be saved.
“Maybe I don’t want to be the Doctor anymore!” he shouted angrily as he approached her. “What if everything I ever wanted is right here in front of me?!”
She backed herself against the console and attempted to swallow her intimidation of him as he came closer. It took every bit of courage she had left to stay strong in his presence. “Have you fallen so hard for me, Doctor?”
A short cynical laugh escaped him at the question. “Is that so wrong?” he asked, raising his arms from his sides and allowing them to fall limply into place. “After all this time, after everything I’ve done, don’t you think the universe owes me this? Do I not deserve happiness?” He waited for a response from her as she silently stared at him through her stilled expression. Turning away, he paced for a few moments while trying to gather his emotions as they bled all over the floor. Once calm, he turned to face her again. “The life you carried inside of you, the life I helped bring into this world, I desire more of that feeling with you. Please, all I’m asking is that you at least consider what we could have together,” he begged her.
Having lost herself in the heat of the moment, she allowed her defensive nature and disappointment in him to take control. “This isn’t about me, is it? This is about what you failed to do as a father all those years ago,” she declared harshly, then immediately felt the sharp pain of regret after saying it. Her mouth dropped open in shock over her own words but it was too late to take them back. She watched helplessly as he placed a hand over his shattering hearts and turned from her, utterly crushed and saddened by her painful accusation. The sight of it was unbearable. “I’m so sorry, Doctor,” she confessed softly as tears welled in her eyes. “That was cruel of me.” She felt her stomach turn at how sick she felt just then, her arms coming around to hold herself tightly. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to clear her mind and find another way to reach through to him. “I know you miss them, but I will never be able to replace the children you have lost.” After a moment, she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze hoping he would turn to face her once more. He remained silent in her presence, unwilling to abandon his outward glance. She sighed and tried again to gain his acknowledgement. “You once told me that as long as they still lived within you, you would never give up fighting to save those who would suffer the same fate. No matter what happens, we will still have each other. We both know Missy will never stop until every star and planet has burned by her hands. If you allow her to win, then this world you so desperately wish to create with me will become a very small place. How can we teach our children about the wonders of the universe if there is nothing left of it?”
Placing his hands on the console, he braced himself upon it and hung his head in devastation. “Are you saying no then?”
Her tears making their way down her face, she felt every bit of her heart breaking for him. As unfair as it was to bear the weight of this decision on her shoulders alone, deep down she knew she had made the right choice. “I’m sorry, Doctor. But we cannot hide ourselves away watching from a distance as the rest of the universe falls apart all around us. No one else should have to die for our love.”
Fighting his tears, he slowly gathered himself to a standing position and attempted to regain himself in her presence. “You’re right, of course. Always right,” he spoke softly, turning around to face her one last time. “Forgive me. I was being selfish.” He forced a weak smile to his face before lowering his eyes to the floor and removing himself from the room.
Tearing the memory from his thoughts, he approached the console and began buttoning the cuffs of his sleeve to prepare himself for the ultimate battle against his enemies. His expression remained stern and focused as his mind plotted out exactly what was to happen next. The sound of his infant daughter cooing from her bassinet beside him drew his attention. He silently peered down to observe his child’s small form in every detail as if taking one last look at her before offering his final farewell. Retaining his distance, he returned to the view-screen. The man staring back at him from its reflection was far from recognizable. His eyes had become cold and calculated. The lines on his face had deepened with unwavering concentration. His moment of truth had arrived. The time had come for him to show his enemies what he was truly capable of, no matter who stood in his way. The darkest hour was finally upon him. There would be no turning back from it now. There was no way to know what the future had in store for him in the end. All he knew for certain was that his Clara was gone. And no matter if he won or lost, he was going to get her back.
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capricorn-abroad · 6 years
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Free To Speak, Resist the Oppressors
When I was a sophomore in high school, I was admitted to the psychological ward of Ann and Robert H. Lurie’s Children’s Hospital of Chicago due to a suicide attempt. When I returned to school after that, I was told not to talk about what had transpired because it was not socially acceptable and that it would bring great shame to my family as a result. During that time, because I could not turn to the people around me, I turned my thoughts and pain to my writing.  As a writer, I am constantly trying to incorporate the traumas in my life in a way that does not paint me as the victim. Just because I have gone through things that no one else should does not mean that I am not powerful and I want my writing to reflect that. In my fiction, it is through portraying flawed female characters as my heroes while in my poetry it is by bringing mental health struggles to the forefront. I’d like my work to be seen as a guidebook on what life can be like for someone who has suffered at the hands of both mental illness and abuse – two things that society believes it is comfortable talking about until the conversation actually starts. On January 1, 2018, I began a project called Ours Poetica, the title being a play on Horace’s Ars Poetica. The project consists of me writing a poem every single day, that somehow has to relate to my mental state, even if it does not seem like it is directly correlated to me. While I have not delved into the problems I face because of abuse, I have already touched upon depression and the pain in my life. The source of inspiration for this project came from the fact that I am tired of playing second fiddle to my trauma. I am tired of not knowing who I am without the scars of depression and abuse, and through writing about it – even when I really don’t want to – I hope that maybe I can start healing and find myself as a human. My art as resistance really is about being frank, I don’t want to sugarcoat anything. The internet has this bad habit of saying that relationships can fix anything, no matter what and personally I think it is a load of bullshit. I want the audience to realize that the toxic way people can talk about these topics is not only damaging people who have to live with those scars every day of their lives but also that they are damaging themselves by not being as aware to the fact that the scars aren’t the only defining features of someone. One of my greatest inspirations for this project was the late Carrie Fisher, who had been very blunt about her struggles with addiction, depression and mental health issues in general. That challenge of social norms is something that I want to do as well, but I want to do it from a place within myself, not from a place that holds an air of superiority or distance from the problem.
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In the modern world, society puts the mark of a black sheep on those who have taken their own lives because of mental health issues – society says that their lives were not worth grieving over because they took a selfish act and made their choice. However, as someone who is suffering, I have made it my goal to shed some light on the inner workings of someone who has mental health issues – particularly PTSD, borderline personality disorder, generalized anxiety and major depressive disorder – to name a fair few. My project desires to fight the status quo when it comes to how people talk about mental health issues by baring my soul for the world to see. One of my key beliefs is that everyone should have the right to say whatever they please, even if it goes directly against what society believes is normal. There are things that society does that is not correct or even right, and people should be able to speak up about their lived experiences to challenge the status quo. To quote Jon Voight in National Treasure “Cooperation only lasts as long as the status quo is unchanged. As soon as this guy gets to wherever this thing ends… he won’t need you anymore.” People in power only want to work with others to ensure that things stay the way that they always have been. To go against the status quo would be akin to painting a target on one’s back – but if enough people band together and alert society to the issues at hand then the target can no longer be placed – and people can speak openly about their lived experiences. With lived experiences being spoken about, then a dialogue can be created and everyone’s lived experience is valid no matter what they say.
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chaoscrystals · 7 years
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Every note in my phone 11
Watching weight makes me nervous watching my jawline get softer the hinges can sing softly now I feel alone i feel alone right in front and in my own. To be alone to be alone in front of the store and on my own My own Slowly trip and fall developing pictures of how we came to know it all line the halls and our greatest achievements, to remind us when we feel weak, the tiny difference you feel when you speak The infinite saga of expansion, contraction, development destruction. The infinite saga of my life. Everything is a joke. I have been walking this earth for so many thousands of years and I still don't feel right. Last I remember it was dark night and I saw a certain type of spider that had never caught my eye before, I followed it and it was almost as if I was going into one of those underground caves but it wasnt, and I know it because I could still see the moon. It was full. And I walked and walked in the dark, over thorns I walked over them and it hurt a lot of ways but I kept walking. I kept going and going and going until I don't remember when. I didn't even get a chance to get some water. I can't remember when I last had a drink. Next thing you know I wake up all tiny and new feeling,  I've been walking around only a few years and my body is different than before. The lines that are my border are more defined now. I feel as though I've stumbled upon something great. I have this thing in my hand. Its a train with wheels and a string. I think I know who made it for me. I see my dad and I have a happy feeling in my heart, because he always tells me nice things about myself I fucking love my new shoes. I got them for 12 dollars in the Bronx. I always feel connected to everyone inn the train. Well,  id like to think that it sounds really sweet to me. I can't get my snack out of my bag cause my bag smells like weed and there's a little kid next to me. I can't do that and still feel right. Also my back spine is being really painful lately and I don't know what to do about it I can't stop making the sounds and twisting up. Maybe its more of that I need to be doing, but in an artfully presented way. Like in my band. Not my actual spine...its hard enough being beautiful as an early 20s woman I don't need to be deformed as I grow older.  Oh god. This train will be over at Fulton street. Then I have to take another train only one stop into Brooklyn so i can meet my friend Rowan. You know what? I can't be so cheap. If I have the money I can spend it, unless there's something specific I want that I'm saving for. Oh god is this train over yet? There's some genius in the design of this thing but I really don't see why its mandatory that we suffer through this long ordeal. Fuck me, I need a bike, and I need one now. Once I have my bike, I can set my shit up. Once I set my shit up, I won't have any use for these thoughts. Then I can do my jewelry vending. I am always mad at myself when I want to do something because i haven't already done it. Maybe I slack on myself sometimes. Just feel thus terrible undeserving. I want to eat with my friends. Im really scared of this guy staring at me. What am I gonna do? He can't hurt me but the more I focus on it the worse I feel. Its hard to think straight and see straight. And I just want to eat a bit of fruit and some nuts and ill be feeling a lot better. I wonder if anyone will love my eating disorder as much as I do. After I finish this one thing...I think maybe I will be letting go of a lot of that after this. My zine. I have to release something. Soon I can do a writing excersize where I follow that thought and figure it out. The more I think about it the worse it gets is that guy still staring at me? Fml. Why do these things happen to women? Shit is fucked. I'm so so so not going to let that stop me. I ran into Jonathan yesterday. He is always a lot of thoughts for me. I still can't believe I actually made that happen. I wanted to Fuck him for so long. And its crazy cause he's actually a musician that's influenced me a lot. It meant a lot to me. Haha. Probably a good thing to distance myself? But I don't want to distance myself from things I like. Like him. Shit that's crazy. I wanted him when I heard his guitar playing before I ever seen his face. That crazy dizzy feeling is just hovering above me when I think about him. That's enough. Here's what happened yesterday: I had just the day before realized that I could busk in Columbus circle after my class at the art students league. I remembered that Jonathan said his therapy thing was by Columbus circle thursdays at 10 am. So of course I obsess and wonder if I shouldn't busk cause I know he might be there. But I decide Fuck that, he can see me. And besides, my class is over after 12 pm. I go at 12 30 and stay around till maybe 4 pm, and I had drank water and needed to pee so i went into the whole foods. You have to go down an escalator to go to this whole foods. I noticed a guy with a guitar going to the escalator at the same time as me. I got a feeling like we were in the same shit so I looked up to say hello and it was jonathan! It felt insane. I knew it could happen but I wasn't expecting it that day. I always say too much, maybe its cause I think too much. Cause I think too much. Afterthoughts I would really like to feel normal. Or some concept that I hold in normal. I would like a nice life and to be calm at least most of the time. Jonathan just makes me excited Non responding ass bit I am worth novels and librarians Its always this obsessiveness when I get into someone new. I'm so needy I get this rush of feelings Sipping coffee tranquil..if I could find the closest bathroom. Check the closets for racists and hoarders Everyone looks at me everywhere I go This seltzer is my lifeline. I'm about to have to carry a lot of music equipment on my own. I can't be held responsible for this bullshit I think your boundaries are arbitrary and I can't help but cross the line. Since I'm trying to be a nice person I will try to leave you alone. I get obsessed with wanting to have sex with someone when I want emotional closeness with them. This is why I wanted to fuck Jonathan and Ariel so badly. What I really wanted was emotional intimacy and to feel loved by my partner. But I thought it would come through sex, instead of actually sharing all my emotions. I seem to have an easier time sharing my negative emotions. This is because that's what I learned was safe. God forbid I display joy and be punished by my mother's jealousy. That's fucked up but I don't care cause its worth it to know the truth. I want to not feel afraid to show who I really am. I hate feeling restricted to be my whole self and display all my talents. And I feel myself getting tired of attacking in order to display power. I don't need to attAck maybe.. Maybe if I write something I can make this train ride go faster. How is popping xan a thing to people? Oh god. I wonder if Jonathan has guessed at my obsession with him. Every time I think about him I have a million other thoughts. I have already identified that my true desire was emotional intimacy, not sex. I kind of still want to have sex with him. It feels good. But now I want to feel like he feels the same thing I feel. Feelings never end. There is no end to feeling in this earth body. Earthly. Heavenly. Okay. Since I know what I really wanted, maybe now I can just go directly for that instead of fucking guys to try and lure them into being my partner. I want a partner. I will be up front with my emotions so that people know what I'm getting into and what they're getting into with me. Keeping in mind that I have a habit of expelling my negative emotions onto other people in a sort of attack/attempt to be rescued... And that doesn't feel the same as having someone just see me whole and entirely. I hold a lot of joy as well as sadness and anger. I think it's time I treat myself to the good feeling emotions, and forget about other people's jealousy and judgements. Self help queen!! I don't know what to do with myself she thought. All these shows are hurting my head. Just knowing about them not even going to them. That is madness. I wish someone wanted to talk to me Maybe if I write something I can conquer my biggest fears and maybe get somewhere in life. The constant clicking maybe is a sign of awakening, I don't know I could sure use this coffee to dig up my uncertainty and take it downtown in my backpack, or maybe even travel back in time and decide, never have that. You're getting clearer all the time don't feel bad for where you are. Making speaking in metaphors easy cause rtheyre symbols, I feel uneasy at knowing, like my knowing is dangerous, a coveted jewel sought by world class robbers. I would watch a movie with Jonathan. I can't help it. I am insatiable. Always going to hunger for him. Is my face fat? Are we in love yet? Billie holiday All of me Ill be seeing you Easy living Summertime God bless the child Crazy he calls me Gloomy Sunday Not yet Strange fruit What a little moonlight can doBillie holiday All of me Ill be seeing you Easy living Summertime God bless the child Crazy he calls me Gloomy Sunday Not yet Strange fruit What a little moonlight can do I forgot what Ariel looked like then I saw a picture of him and I got sad cause I want to cuddle :( As usual I'm in the middle of 10 to 11 existential crisises. You wouldn't believe the awful thoughts I'm having. I'm working door at a show. There is only white people I swear I've never seen anything like it. They all want to be part of something bigger than themselves. Everything I do is an incoming and outgoing echo. Does that make sense? I can feel the difference and I can was the difference in effect. Give them a mean look they know it came from me. They know it comes from you. I don't want to walk in that room alone. Not tonight. I need a friend. My heart is telling me what's right. Get some more excersize in. How about that? That doesn't sound too bad right? How about I find I different street corner to smoke my joint on. Alone. Always smoking alone. Maybe I won't. Maybe I will. Its not like I have anything better to do. Other than smoke, or write or check facebook. Wallow in anxiety feels like laying in thorns. I could get up but my punishment isn't over. There's a difference in the way I'm feeling when I'm really doing something that I want to be doing and speaking in the right language and everything. That album languid by sun ra gives me feelings when I think about it. Everything gives me feelings because I react to it in my opinion zone. Haahahaha. Just like to have to make everything sexual don't we? I could follow this thought but it doesn't feel good. Make it different. It has to be different and better than before. This believing is making me feel crusty I have to care about the number of followers I have because that is a way for me to start feeling good about myself also it is what I have always wanted before Instagram existed, even. Is it? Do I really believe that? I have a theory I think that I got sick because I had a very negative disposition. Not just the eating disorder stuff, but after...when I was trying so hard to go back to being normal, trying to heal and find my struggle. Hitting every mark. But I got such bad chronic pains every night no matter what I did...and I do believe it was in my habits..ugh I am going to be rejected because I still have issues with food. Nobody really knows about that part of me. I feel like lonely and I miss these people. Its always in your feelings you are always sharing feelings, especially since you haven't thought about energetic boundaries since before you could grasp the concept. It just slipped out of your hands and left them ashy I know you were feeling lonely too and missing me. The thoughts in my head have bodies help me before I go crazy. No I know what's perfect for me the shade of a tree is the refuse and me is taking refuge in rebellion causing all kinds of hell On earth boy its a hot hot day and I cannot stop what I'm doing On a drop of rain a plucking vein in your wrist I don't know how to make myself feel better because I don't want to feel better
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Why You Won't Know Love Until You Love Yourself
"You won't know love until you love yourself."  -- Who Knows
I used to hate this saying. "What does that even mean?" I maintained. "I've never loved myself, but I've been in love many times!" I found it petty and judgmental. If this idea was going to be pumped through Hallmark Cards, Zen yoga studios, and Self Help books, then it might as well include how the hell someone goes about accomplishing "loving themselves".
We're told that self love is the greatest bliss of all. It's the beginning of joy, the way to your soulmate, and indicates elevation of consciousness. But, the idea haunts us. It makes us feel small, weak, and destined to fall short. Like so many of us, I had more critical than loving things to say about myself. As a matter of fact, I thought it was loving to criticize myself! How was I supposed to be a better person if I didn't tell myself how awful I currently was? How was I supposed to love myself when I had a lot of work to do to make myself lovable?
In October, 2013, I got my greatest lesson in self love when I suffered a break up from, who I thought, was my soulmate. We had met at a bar in NYC: he the bartender, I the waitress who worked down the street, frequenting the bar far too often. He was a handsome Irishman from the small town of, Sligo, which happened to be the same town as my great grandmother (talk about synchronicity). I fell so hard, I could have left a face print in cement. I thought "This is it, this is the love I've been waiting for!"
My heart was always bursting out of my chest when I would see him; I felt alive and excited for our future. I doted on him, always made myself available, traveled Europe with him, for 6 weeks, from Ireland, Spain, Italy, to Paris, and gave him every ounce of my love, affection, and support. To me, I was experiencing ultimate perfection; I was in heaven... But I always had a nagging feeling he would leave me, which towered over every moment.
After we broke up, I spent the next year rebuilding my self-esteem, asking all the questions we normally ask: Why did we break up? Why did it end like this? How could this have been avoided? When you dive into yourself to explore the deeper waters of your inner conflicts, prepare for the pressure.
This is what I discovered about my half of our relationship: I had spent the majority of it dealing with my insecurities, my drinking problem, and my hang ups over my family issues. I overcompensated for what I thought were my worst qualities, and made sure I was the best damn girlfriend he could ask for. And I think he'd agree, I WAS a great girlfriend. The problem was I didn't know I was a great Vanessa. I didn't know how to show up with my own qualities and self assurance, instead, adopting what I thought a great girlfriend should do and be. I couldn't move past the fear of losing him, so I lost myself, and put someone "perfect" in my place. This resulted in emotional breakdowns due to high expectations, an inability to hear anything but what I wanted to hear, manipulation when I felt I was losing him, and a dependence on his happiness for my own. I thought his love would somehow fix everything that was wrong and "bad" about me.  
What I realized about my role in the end of our story was that I genuinely did not love myself. This realization led me to wonder: why do the vast majority of us not know the feeling of self love? Over years of pondering, I eliminated the possibilities down to three perspectives that roll into each other: 1) we're told to love ourselves, despite the fact that we don't know what self love actually means 2) because we don't know what it means to love ourselves, we act in self gratifying ways as a means to distance ourselves from others and 3) from this confusion we decide to approach our happiness by being either selfish or selfless. The overwhelming need to re-imagine these three perspectives has changed my world for the better. We'll start with the first perspective: what exactly is "self love"?...
1) Self love is what you value
I think we'd all agree that self love and self worth are interchangeable. When we speak of one we are speaking of the other. So, assuming we all consider "love" impossible to describe, let's define worth:
Worth: equivalent in value to the sum or item specified
So if we take this definition and define it for human interaction, it would go something like this:
Worth: you are as valuable as everyone else.
This is the mantra of self love and living with integrity (feeling whole): YOU are as valuable as others and what you VALUE is just as important as what others value. If you don't know what you value, then you will not find yourself valuable, opting to follow other's values over your own or sacrifice other's needs because you despartately want to be valued. This leads to knowing what you want from another person instead of knowing what you have to offer. This idea can be best described in two opposing labels we all know very well: "givers" and "takers." I put the words in quotations because these labels are a facade, an identity we hide behind to lick our wounds when our relationships go badly. In our society, "givers" are the saints and "takers" are the sinners. One has an angel's halo of martyrdom while the other dons the devil's horns of greed. These labels are one of the biggest hurtles we must face on the road to joyously loving ourselves and others, as they create the separation of us vs. them:
If you've ever been in a relationship where you've given everything to another person, only to be left a hollow shell, burned and discarded, you know what it's like to be a "giver." If you've ever been in a relationship where you've enjoyed the comfort and ease of another person's gifts and affection, feeling the power and security of the upper hand, you know what it's like to be a "taker." But, the fact is, everyone is both giving and taking, simultaneously. The negative forms of giving/taking are most evident in our painful relationships, as each person is riding on their "one way street":
If you emotionally and physically give endlessly to another, you are looking for approval and love to follow your efforts. In essence, you're hinging the amount of love and attention you hope to receive to the amount that you give, as you feel undeserving otherwise (giving vitality to receive vitality). 
If you emotionally and physically receive endlessly from someone, your are looking for admiration and attention, offering to be a shrine for the other person. In essence, you're ignoring their efforts for love and approval in order to boost your own self esteem, giving you a sense of pride that you can display to others (receiving vitality to give vitality).
When you love yourself, you will have learned the "two way street" of both giving and taking, as both are necessary for our happiness and cooperation. The positive forms of giving/taking are most evident in our healthy and easy relationships:
If you know what you value (i.e. equality, space, communication, a generous heart), then you aren't threatened by that which another has to offer, giving them room to express themselves as themselves. In essence, you know what qualities of love you want to receive (take), which allows for an authentic exchange of emotion and discovery, no matter if the relationship continues or not.
If you know what you have to offer (i.e. cooking amazing meals, always dependable, can make anyone laugh so hard they fall over) then you can give freely to others, as your vitality is strengthened by making others feel good by giving what feels good to you! In essence, you know what qualities of love you have to offer (give) that make you and others happy. 
Self love is what we value in ourselves (what we offer or give to others) and what we value for ourselves (what we need from others to feel secure and safe). Now we come to the second part of our journey. How we create distance and isolation...
2) Self love is demonstrated in faith
Self-gratification (pleasing oneself without considering others) is rooted in the fear of rejection. We are so scared that what we have to offer is boring, useless, annoying, ridiculous, over dramatic, offensive, or plain bad. This carves out a hole in our hearts (no quotations needed, because it's real), which we somehow can't seem to fill.
We self-gratify by overeating, over shopping, experimenting with drugs, binging alcohol, constantly socializing, serial dating, criticizing, putting others down, demanding attention, having children to alleviate loneliness or to gain government paychecks, controlling and dominating our environment and others, condemning other's due to race and/or creed, compulsively giving up what we want for the happiness of another, demanding what we want from others for our happiness, and isolating ourselves from the world. Our fear of exposure for all that is bad in us keeps us from truly connecting with each other. How do we feel the joy of another when all we want is their approval or attention? We are searching for proof that we are lovable; that every need and desire we have is good and valuable to those we love and beyond. But, our fear of being abandonded by those we love, causes us to adopt the philosophy that no one can be trusted to truly love us, unaware that we, too, are a part of "no one". This lack of trust in ourselves and others creates a vicious cycle: withholding ourselves because we are afraid of rejection, thus constantly being rejected because we are withholding ourselves.
In order to trust others, we must, first, have faith in ourselves. We do that by getting in touch with how we feel. How we feel offers us faith, how we think offers us skepticism (or need for proof). We, far too often, applaud logic over our emotions, causing confusion and muddled beliefs. But, those who consider how they feel to be the only necessary measure for an appropriate reaction leaves everyone subject to the fragility of that person's emotional life, be it for the better or worse of the relationship. We either must be wholly feelers or wholly thinkers, as one must be right and the other wrong. Now, I'm going to offer science here for those who feel they have a moral obligation to society to uphold logic over feelings at all costs, and for those who think their emotions are the only true reality of the self: 
The hypothalamus, the gland in your body that produces the chemical responses for emotions, is activated by what you are thinking. If you think about something negatively or positively, your hypothalamus produces neuropeptides that carry the unique code for negative or positive emotion. They soak into your blood, then translate through your body as feeling bad or feeling good (decreased energy and vitality, increased energy and vitality). This goes for all thoughts, as they produce all emotions.*
All this to say: what we think is how we feel. They work together, not separately. When we trust our thinking (skepticism) over our feelings (faith), we tell our emotions how to prepare for the outside world. When we trust our feelings over our thinking, we tell our mind that it can't see the outside world clearly. When we trust them both together, we interact with ourselves through self reflection, choosing to adjust or remain steady according to our goals and desires. 
Thinking over feeling: I've been burned way too many times by guys who've cheated on me, so I'm going to insure my happiness with the next guy by always being by his side, so it never happens again.
Feeling over thinking: I've been cheated on enough to know all men are liars and cheats, so I'm happy over here doing my own thing!
Feeling and thinking: I've been really hurt in the past by men who've cheated, so I'm going to figure out what values I have that align with guys who don't respect me, as I would like to be in a happy and healthy relationship.
Our emotions are our light house and our values (how we think) are steering our ships. We must trust that the values we hold will dedicate us to our goals, allowing our emotions to illuminate our paths. When we choose to accept our feelings as a guide to our happiness, we will be able to trust that we are good and worthy beings, simply expressing ourselves in all our massive glory. 
3) Self love is both selfish and selfless
I used to ask myself "Why do I deserve to be happy? I've done so many things I regret." We all deserve to be happy, no matter the crimes we've committed. I'm appealing to the majority of the population who are not sociopaths: we love each other. We want to see a smile on everyone's face, including our own. Though some of us have been led far astray, I think we can all agree with the compassionate words of Oscar Wilde, "Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future."
Self love is both selfish and selfless. We selfishly gather up our friends, personal comforts, and sense of purpose as vitality and supportive energy, then selflessly spring forth that which makes us happy for the use and joy of others. When we do what makes us happy, it makes others happy, and that's the most effective service of all. The more we learn to love ourselves, the more we accept the reality of who we are: creative beings creating for others. So, start your hat shop, go learn the tango, get on a dating site, let go of your ex, find a job that listens to your ideas, join a volunteer group, be kind and helpful to someone in need, open up to each other's love and opinions, and blaze a trail of self love for others to follow. 
Life can be unpredictable and scary at times. Sometimes, we don't know where we're going, or which choice to make. Listening to our feelings and values may, at times, lead us down painful paths. But life is about learning and growing, not winning and controlling. Instead of expecting, emulate what you want from others. You aren't always meant to marry the first person you fall in love with or keep the same job you started. Not every family has what you need, so make sure you find your people. Your dream job may no longer motivate you, so find your next calling. The relationship you thought would last forever may end in sadness and remorse, but, I guarantee, each breakup carries a seed of self discovery. Let your light shine and have faith that you are here for the same reason as everyone else: to create the life that will bring you joy, and, in turn, bring joy to others. 
 Know you are loved, know you are lovable, know your love is worth sharing with the world, 
 Vanessa Bartlett
Founder of The Authentic Channel
   *(Dr. Candace Pert , Molecules of Emotion, New York: Scribner 2010) 
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