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globophobicligyrophobiccontent · 3 years

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[Updating regularly! LEAVE SUGGESTIONS IN THE COMMENTS!]

If you want me to write more extensive about this and other characters' globophobia, I'll do it.

I've always liked the fact that some characters have fears or phobias, they make them easier to empathize). And now imagine that the characters have our phobia, it's the not you are alone, you are not crazy that we need sometimes. But without further blahblah let's get started

-Komodo (Animal Mechanicals): This is the character that enlightened me as a child and for whom I make this list. Mechanimals are, that, robot animals, that go on missions, learn things, a preschool series basically. In this episode, they had to go to a volcano that releases balloons, but they were exploding, and they had to find a way to stop them. And as they go to the island, one of the balloons explodes and Komodo freaks out, and BOOM, my child's mind lit up. The simple fact that a character has my fear changed my world. [You can find this chapter on YouTube: Balloon Volcano Island]

-Lacey (Corner Gas): I found this from pure searching. In short, they throw a party for this character Lacey, who seems to have balloonphobia, and then at the end of the chapter she goes to therapy with a friend who also has it and now she can take them better. [You can find this chapter in some "third party" service]

-Clyde (The Loud House): Another that I found watching cartoons. In one chapter, Lincoln's friend, Clyde, mentions having strange reactions when trying to blow up balloons (the typical symptoms, dizziness, blurred vision, etc.) And although he tries to overcome it, he still cannot.

-BoBoiBoy: This series shows how far off the internet I managed to get by looking for info about my phobia hahahaha. In short, it is an Malaysian series about a boy with superpowers. In one of those, his enemy catches him, and takes him to a torture room to get information from him, where by mistake his henchmen throw him a party. Angry by mistake he pops a balloon, and discovers that BBB scares him. They put him to the limit and he manages to unleash his superpower. [You can find this scene on YouTube]

-Roy (The IT Crowd): Now with a series a little more known. Roy mentions that he is going to a party, which his friend asks if it was that he did not like parties, to which he responds one of the best phrases I use to explain my phobia "Balloons explode Jen, they explode so suddenly and unexpectedly, that they have the capacity to give me a little fright, and I find that unbearable." [You can find the scene on YouTube]

-Snails (MLPEg): Of all this was the most unexpected. In this special of "Choose your ending", the equestria girls should see how to move props in the background of a theater easily, if you choose the Pinkie Pie, she will change things for balloons so that they move more easily. Between scenes, Snail mentions that he is not afraid of balloons, which can be seen as obviously not, and even accompanies his friend when he is scared to explode one. [You can find this chapter on YouTube: MLPEqG: All the world's off stage (Pinkie Pie Ending)]

-Brainy (Supergirl): This one is kinda new. Even tho I don't watch Supergirl, I'm always up for good representation of our phobia. In one of the newest episodes, some characters are facing their fears, even tho the majority of the characters have "emotional" fears (Betrayal, loneliness, lossing a loved one), Brainy has some sort of fear of balloons. He can see the room full of them, but he can still do his job very well (even tho he knows they aren't real). Fans theorized that the fear itself it's a metaphor for his true worries and power(I guess, correct me if I'm wrong) popping out at any moment. [You can find this episode on "third party" services like Cuevana, or on TV I guess]

-Humf: Humf is a little monster who lives everyday adventures and discovers the world around him. In one of the episodes, Humf is playing with his friends, when his uncle came to visit him bringing balloons to play. At first everything seem fun, playing with the air that came out of the balloon, chasing the balloon around and playing with the static, but for accident, Humf sits on the balloon, making it pop. After that, he realized balloons are loud, so he refuses to play with another balloons for fear of popping. Looking for a way to get back Humf to the games, his uncle starts making sound with the mouth of the balloon, thing that calls the attention of Humf. With help of his friend, Humf is back to play. Even tho Humf is still scared of the pops, he finds his way to play with balloons again. For me, the one of the best representations of this phobia. [You can find this chapter on YouTube: Humf and the balloons]

-A.N.T. Farm: Olive Doyle claims she has many phobias, including "ghosts, vampires, witches, zombies, leprechauns, giraffes, double decker buses, balloons and... (shudders) curly fries." Just mentioned as a comic relief I guess.

-King of the hill: Bill seems scared when Hank mentioned balloons. just mentioned once.

[+18? Kinda but not explicit] -Bob's burguer: In the episode "It snakes a village" when the family goes to visit Linda's parents to a seniors home village, the regiment seems to be filled with old people (ehemswingersehem), but points aside, it seems like Linda's mom, Gloria, is easily startles by loud sudden noises, such as the back lid of the car being closed, people surprising her from behind, and balloons of course. On the other side, his husband Al, seems to have a f3ti$h of woman popping balloons, clearly some opposites. At the end of the episode, they discover that they can mix both things and "try new things", as Bob gives Gloria a pair of headphones. This is an interesting way to show the fear, since it's pretty know that sometimes phobias can do a 180° turn around and became a ehemehemphword, being balloons a good example.

-Whomp! Comics: In this webcomic series, the protagonist, Ronnie, clearly has a phobia of loud sudden noises. In various comics, he seems to be scared of thunder, biscuits cans and balloons. [You can find this comic online, if you're looking specifically for the ones mentioned here, just search on Google "whomp comic fear of balloons/thunder"]

-Mae, Nicky, Ricky, Dicky & Dawn: When Mae was first introduced in Dawn Moves Out, during her sleepover with Dawn, which helps Dawn realize that it's time to move out to her own bedroom instead of sharing with her brothers. She reveals that she is afraid of balloons. She was saving that secret as part of a sleepover game, then by accident, Dawn's mom bring some balloons at the room, scarier Mae, even tho after Dawn put them out of the room, her dad bring them back again, scaring her again. This fear is mentioned again when in one episode she's keeping a class secret from Dawn and her brothers, so Dawn uses a balloon turkey (And popped it) to intimidate Mae and make her talk.

-"Jillian Holtzmann" The Ghostbusters: I really don't know about this character's phobia, the only thing I find it's the trivia, I'll try to update this. (Update I guess: According to a comics artist, she always been that way, no the thing I expected but ok at the same time, we don't own explanations to no one)

Anyways, I hope you like my post, do you know more characters with our phobia?

#globophobia #fear of balloons #fear of balloons popping #scared of balloons #afraid of balloons #balloons #animal mechanicals #the loud house clyde #boboiboy #the it crowd #mlp equestria girls #brainy supergirl #humf #ligyrophobia #fear of loud sounds #scared of sound sudden noises #phonophobia

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years

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Be Good When I’m Gone

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When Loki starts to go on missions across the galaxy, you and the trickster god do your best to keep your relationship alive. Warnings: fluff with just a touch of angst peppered in A/N: inspired by the song Be Good When I’m Gone by Four Year Strong

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Dating Loki was difficult. The two of you had finally broken down all the barriers and walls he had put up, and for a little while, everything was perfect. Then Thor decided to start taking Loki for off-world missions. You were happy that the brothers had gotten back the trust they used to have. It’s just that sometimes you felt so lonely without Loki. Of course, you had plenty of friends in the Tower, but none of them understood you the way Loki did. You’d first caught the trickster god’s attention when he found you trying to pull a prank on him. Since then, you’d been partners in crime. Or, in this case, mischief.

You were currently perched on the edge of Loki’s bed while he packed the necessities for his next trip with Thor. Every time you had to say goodbye to him was harder than the last. You tried to remember that saying your mother had always told you. The one that goes if you love something, let it go, and if it’s meant to be, it’ll come back to you. Well, Loki did always come back, but you couldn’t shake the fear that one day he just...wouldn’t. Fears aside, the time away from him was agonizing. It was like having half your heart violently ripped from your body and kept away from you, often for weeks at a time. That’s why you were doing your best to distract him from the task at hand in the hopes he wouldn’t leave. Was it selfish? Probably, but you couldn’t help it.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” Loki asked, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“Do you really have to go?”

Loki sighed in response and placed a kiss to your forehead. He wanted to give you the world and had great difficulty denying you anything, but these missions were important. Not only did they often save lives, but they also helped him repair his relationship with Thor. Still, the thought of staying on Midgard with you was tempting.

“Not if you need me here,” he finally replied.

Now it was your turn to sigh. You would have begged him not to leave if your pride allowed it, yet all you had to do was ask, and he’d stay for you. Your heart desperately wanted to tell him that, yes, you did need him. And you honestly did, just not so desperately that you should be allowed to keep him from living his life. Besides, you wouldn’t want to be the reason he got into a fight with his brother. Seeing him in distress would cause you more pain than having to live without him for a little while.

“No, I’ll be fine,” you reluctantly said. “I’m going to miss you, though. I just wish it didn’t have to be so long before I can see you again.”

Loki captured your frowning lips in a kiss. “I feel the same way,” he said, sincerity burning in his emerald eyes. “Just try to be good when I’m gone, my little prankster.”

You giggled at the nickname and helped him finish packing. Sure, he’d be leaving soon, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy this time with him. Besides, he’d be back before you knew it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jolting up out of bed, you looked around in the pitch black room for the source of the incessant ringing that had abruptly awoken you. It was your phone that you apparently forgot to put on vibrate. You quickly grabbed it and headed into the bathroom of the small hotel room you were sharing with Wanda, your partner for the mission you were currently on. You said a silent prayer it hadn’t woken her up and checked the caller-ID. Seeing that it was your boyfriend calling made your heart beat faster. It had been two weeks since you’d talked to Loki last, and you’d been fraught with worry, unable to banish the thought that he was hurt. Or worse, dead.

“Hello, my darling,” his voice crackled through the phone. “Guess who will be arriving back at the Tower tonight.”

“Oh. That’s great, Loki,” you said, trying not to sound too disappointed. The timing couldn’t have been any worse if you tried. “It’s just that I’m on a mission right now.”

His end was silent for a moment, and you worried he might have hung up or lost whatever weak signal he found. Then, with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, he said, “Oh, that is alright. I will see you again when you get back. Certainly this mission can’t last for much longer, right darling?”

You winced, knowing that, at best, you’d be in the field for another two weeks. You didn’t want to disappoint him, though, so you told him you’d be back soon. The yawn that punctuated your sentence let Loki know just how tired you were, and he felt a stab of guilt that he was keeping you up. After all, you needed your rest to perform well on missions, and the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt. You bid each other goodnight and hung up.

Walking back out into the bedroom, you saw Wanda sitting up, rubbing her eyes. Even in a half-asleep stupor, she was able to tell something was bothering you and tried to get you to talk about it. You, however, were emotionally drained and only wanted to sleep. She did give good advice, though, so you resolved to tell her in the morning.

Meanwhile, back at the Tower, Loki and Thor’s ship landed in the hangar. Loki was feeling just as miserable as you were. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone he felt comfortable enough to confide in. Thor tried to get him to talk, but whatever trust there was between the two still felt too fragile to Loki for him to talk about something as precious to him as you were. Besides, Thor’s approach to dating was a lot less graceful than Loki’s, so he was sure whatever advice his brother would offer him would be more annoying than helpful.

It soon became clear to Loki that you wouldn’t be home as soon as you had said you would. When the loneliness became unbearable, he found himself in your room, taking it all in. Sometimes he laid down on your bed, enjoying the way it smelled like you. Your room often looked like it was hit by a hurricane, and while he usually liked for things to be neat and organized, Loki found he didn’t mind all that much. It reminded him of your chaotic energy that he so loved. When you knew he’d be in your room, you always made sure to clean it up, but a part of him wished you’d leave it as it was. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to hide any part of yourself from him.

It was during one of these such musings that you arrived back from your mission and stumbled into your room, only to find your boyfriend sprawled on your bed. Exhausted, you flopped down next to him and curled into his side. He put his arms around you and placed a kiss to your forehead.

“Hello, my little prankster. I’ve missed you.”

Needless to say, you missed him too, but for as much as you loved him, this arrangement was taking its toll. The way you saw it, you had two options: Ask him to stay with you or break up with him, neither of which you could bring yourself to do. You supposed you could have travelled with Loki, but you didn’t think SHIELD would let you off the hook from your missions that easily. So, you’d just have to enjoy whatever fleeting moments with him that you could.

“Me too,” you said after peppering kisses along his jawline. “But we’re together now. I’ll stay right by your side until you have to leave again.”

“Well, about that. I have been doing quite a bit of thinking, and I came to a conclusion that I should have reached a long time ago.”

You pulled away from him and sat up on the bed, your mind immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario. “Oh,” you said. “I understand. We can still be friends though, right?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you gave him a sad smile. You should have known that even if you weren’t willing to break up with him, he wouldn’t want things to continue as they were now. He probably met plenty of other people during his travels, and here you were holding him back. It would get easier with time, you were sure, but still, you didn’t want to drag this breakup out for longer than necessary.

“Darling, listen to me,” Loki said, sitting up beside you and lifting your chin when you tried to avoid his gaze. “There is nowhere I’d rather be, nothing I’d rather do than be by your side. I’m staying here. With you.”

“But the missions. And Thor-”

“Thor,” he interrupted, “will understand. My place is with you.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Overjoyed, you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. It struck you in that moment how silly you’d been to think he wanted to break up. Your love was no fragile thing, and he’d never been anything less than completely devoted to you. And now he was giving up intergalactic travel just to stay with you. It reminded you of what he’d said on the night of your first kiss. He’d told you he didn’t need a kingdom or a title or anything else, so long as he was king of your heart. You hadn’t realized at the time just how serious he’d been.

“Loki,” you breathlessly whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, my little prankster.” He paused for a moment, lost in your eyes. “Now then, if I’m staying, I think we’ve been a bit too good recently. I do believe the Tower is due for a little mischief. What do you say, darling?”

You laughed, happier than you’d been in a long time. “Absolutely,” you said, snuggling next to him again.

“You truly are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he whispered into the night, after a short, peaceful silence. “I hope you know how much I mean it when I say I love you.”

“I do,” you said before falling asleep in his arms for the first night of many to come.

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anxiouslynumbme · 4 years

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Best Prepare To Grieve

7x10, Daisy dealing with Jiaying's death.

Hello! So this is late and slightly more unedited than usual, 'cause I kinda had to post it before tonight's episode, so fair warning and all. Also this is heavily focused on Daisy and May, with a little Daisy/sousa. The higher dosage of Daisy and Sousa will be posted to my other fic (Tell me it's okay.)

Title inspiration: Hayley Williams - Leave It Alone. If you don't know it, go check it out. Actually, listen to her entire album. It's such a wonderful piece of art. Also the song ‘Simmer’ works for both Jiaying and Daisy. But especially Jiaying: If my child needed protection From a fucker like that man I'd sooner gut him 'Cause nothing cuts like a mother

Okay, I'm gonna stop now before I start rambling about the genius of Hayley Williams.

Ao3.

If you know love You best prepare to grieve Let it enter your open heart and Then prepare to let it leave

**************************************

Daisy didn't expect it to be easier, but with the number of people she had lost, and the amount of deaths and loss she had experienced; she wanted to believe it wouldn't hurt as much. But it hurt the same. Always.

Daisy had noticed a change in the way she handled tragedy over the years. How she used to deal with sadness as a kid, crying and daydreaming of a better future. As a teenager, she was the typical angsty, cynical soul who hated the world. A rebellious determination hit in her 20s, she found solace in conspiracy theories and exposing the truths.

And then Coulson had found her, and she'd latched onto the opportunity behind the man, desperately trying to find her parents, to know who she was. But Coulson had given her much more than what she had been looking for. And at first, the loneliness and pain had lessened with the team. She was happy. She belonged.

But as much as S.H.I.E.L.D. had given her; it had taken just as much. And it had taught her to deal with afflictions by avoidance, isolation, and a whole lot of anger.

And Daisy wished so much that was the case by seeing her mother's death again, Daisy wished she could sweep it under the rug and carry on. Just put under it there, with the recent death of Enoch. But she couldn't.

Daisy felt like a little kid again. She just wanted to cry and never stop, her heart was squeezing itself so tightly in its cage, her ears ringing with its heavy pounding. She couldn't breathe.

Daisy's breathing was short and shallow, her heart rate dimming in the engulfing anguish and shock, her chest constricting with the unbearable weight of loss. Daisy was frigid with the retching grief swirling through her veins. How was it that she never knew her mother and it hurt as though she did. Everytime. She had always been an orphan; she never had a mother, this should've been easier. Daisy wanted it to be. Desperately. Daisy was deprived of a mother's love since she was born; she was used to this. And yet, if felt like she was being drained of her blood by Nathaniel all over again. He should've had finished the job.

What Daisy resented the most was the brief, naive sliver of hope that was momentarily lit within her heart. A hope she had learned time and time again to crush, to never let it simmer too long or too bright. Daisy had learned not to hope a long time ago.

But seeing her mother again had weakened her resolve; it melted that icy wall she'd built around her for so long. Because the Jiaying that had stood in front of her was so unlike the traumatic memories Daisy had tried to block out. And for a split second, Daisy let her mind wander: it wandered so stupidly, with an innocence she shouldn't have, gullibility that should had been long gone.

Jiaying's presence enfeebled her state of mind and her guarded heart. Because after all those years, Daisy still hoped. What if Jiaying could stay? What if bad luck decided to let her have this one? What if she could get to keep this untainted and healthy version of her mother? What if they saved her sister and managed to find some way to stay together? It was so brief, a nano-second of hopeful naivety.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. And now you're breaking down all over again.

No, she wasn't breaking down again. Because as much as pain and sadness were familiar. Anger was too. And Daisy could easily channel this darkness that was threatening to swallow her, into fury. A familiar and safe territory.

It had been a while since Daisy had felt this kind of rage. She hated it. It was so easy to lose herself in that bottomless pit of hatred and self-pity. Daisy didn't want to give herself in it again; she'd almost lost the people she loved the last time she had went down an emotional spiral.

But it didn't matter, because Daisy wasn't going to let this go, her blood was boiling beneath the surface of her skin, her nerves prickled and itched with the fury that kept building up by each passing second. Quake was unraveling inside her, her powers thrumming with the need to be let out, it hummed and hammered, silently begging to be unleashed.

"Daisy."

May's wary voice traveled to her ears, but refused to reach the rest of her senses. A numbness began to settle over her as she quietly wiped away her muted tears.

May placed a hand on her shoulder and Daisy's eyes closed at the contact. Daisy couldn't handle comfort right now.

"Where is he?" her voice came out distant and cold.

"Daisy."

"How did he escape, May?"

"Garrett, I'm sure. He has Simmons."

Daisy's heart lurched in silent panic. Of course. Of course, he has her best friend. Daisy pulled away from May, standing up briskly.

“Deke is there too. He was already on the Zephyr.”

"Do you have any idea why he wants Simmons?"

"Daisy, you should take a breath," May said, putting a hand on her own chest.

"I'm fine, we have to act quickly and find her. Malick is unhinged; we don't know what he'll do," Daisy said monotonously, vaguely pointing at Jiaying's corpse. "We should move her first."

"I got it."

Sousa's voice was jarring, to say the least. Daisy was unaware of his presence in the hallway, and she didn't why, but she couldn't look at him.

"Thanks," she told him, marching forward and leaving Jiaying behind, not really caring where her legs were taking her.

"Daisy, where are you going?" May's word fell on deaf ears, Daisy needed to get out, it felt as though her lungs were collapsing in her chest.

Daisy almost sprinted outside. Her steps carrying her forward until she was stood in front of the water falling down harshly at the center of the Lighthouse. A scenery that used to bring her comfort; it was a place she sought out in her time of need, need of serenity and quiet. But her safe haven didn't provide much safety or peace, nothing could change the scene playing over and over in her mind.

Jiaying's face, the cracking sound of her neck breaking. The thudding finality of her lifeless body hitting the floor.

The air started to crackle around Daisy, her powers causing shudders to glide through her bones. Daisy was aware of the ground shaking beneath her, cargo and boxes of contents unknown to her, started to jolt and oscillate uncontrollably.

"Daisy!" It seemed May had followed her.

"Don't worry, May. I'm in control."

"Are you?"

"Yes!"

With a deep breath, Daisy focused all of her energy on one specific container, finally letting the infuriated vibrations out. Releasing her powers directly towards a few useless objects. One after the other, they exploded, and with each one Daisy felt her raging insides slightly subdue. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't Nathaniel.

"Daisy, talk to me." May came to stand next to her.

Daisy breathed in sharply. "What's the plan? Do we know - "

"Daisy, stop avoiding this."

"I'm not avoiding anything, May. Simmons was kidnapped, again! And I'm guessing Malick is not taking her to Hawaii, so..."

"I know that," May gritted out.

"Good. So he probably took her because it has something to do with Fitz, which is just great because we have zero informa -"

"Daisy, I can feel it!" May's voice almost came out in a yell.

"I'm sorry?" Daisy asked uselessly.

"Daisy," May said. "You are in pain. And you are so angry. Please talk to me."

Daisy nodded her head in annoyance, her hands darting to her waist. "Okay, then, why didn't you shoot to kill, May?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you kill him?" Daisy snapped. "Why didn't you let me - ?"

"Your anger was too much, you would've put everyone in danger!"

"No, I wouldn't have! I know exactly what I'm doing."

May paused, taking a step closer to her. "Daisy - "

"What, you wanna talk about something else? Like the fact that apparently I don’t exist now, or the fact that I had to watch my mother die again. Killed by the hands of someone who was abusing my powers! He used my powers to kill her, May!"

"I know," May said softly, striding even closer to Daisy. The consoling noise of the water around them grounding Daisy.

"Honestly, what Did I expect?" she snickered. "She dies later anyway. . .might as well, right? At least now I won't be alive, I guess - I honestly don't how this works anymore."

"Daisy, don't do this. Don't shut down."

"Wow, that's rich coming from you," Daisy bit out, her frustration flowing freely.

May was quiet, which irritated Daisy even more. She simply stood there, staring at her, but not with pity. It was pain. May was hurting too.

Daisy rolled her eyes. "Right, your ambiguous powers are making you extra sensitive, huh? Sorry about that."

"I don't need powers to feel your pain, Daisy."

Daisy stiffened, her feet instinctively taking a step back. "Well, sorry about that too."

"Daisy," May followed her, a palm trying to reach for her arm again. Daisy let her. "I can tell. Always. And that's why I know you will be okay."

"Will I?" Daisy wondered, her tone small and broken. "you know sometimes, I have these moments where I look around, surrounded by you guys, and I feel safe. Content. But then this dread always hits, hard. And I'm just. . .constantly afraid of losing you. Death just follows me, wherever I go."

May blenched, her frown deepening as her hand squeezed Daisy almost sternly. "Don't. Don't say that."

"No, no, it's always been like this," Daisy continued loudly, her hands flailing in front of her restlessly. "it's the same thing, always. Anyone I ever dared to care about goes away. God, even the idea of my parents I couldn't have. Just the mere damn idea of them. And the universe is twisted enough to keep dangling her, dangling that hope in my face!

"I've imagined meeting my mother over and over again, and not once did I - " Daisy's voice broke off, a hollowing ache in her chest. "She's unreachable. There is no world where I could have her. I don't even know why I keep - why I even thought - "

Daisy was cut off by May's arms enveloping her. Her grip strong and kind and steady. Safe, so safe. Daisy gasped roughly, her body sagging against May, finally inhaling oxygen just a bit easier again.

Daisy's legs gave out from under her, May immediately lowering both of them to the ground. May's arms closed her in, almost caging her from the cruel world around her. Like a mother would. And suddenly Daisy was assaulted by the memory of almost losing the woman who was currently keeping her from completely shutting down . May had almost died; Daisy had believed she died. And all of a sudden, that same wave of stifling pain crashed over her again, and Daisy clutched May to her, gripping her tightly.

"You almost died too," Daisy wept, not fully aware that her mouth was freely voicing her turmoil. "You almost me left me, too."

"Shh, I'm right here."

But Daisy was unable to hear anything but her racing, terrified thoughts.

"It won't stop. Ever since Trip, I keep losing. I lost the one person who understood me," Daisy's breath caught in her throat as she thought of her first, lost love. "I lost my - "

Her father? Because he was. In every way but blood, Phil Coulson was her father. And he was gone. And Daisy knew she might never completely move past his death; she might never be whole again. There really was nothing without him.

"It's okay, Daisy."

"He's gone, May. Coulson is gone," Daisy sobbed. "It's not him. He will never be him."

"I know, Daisy, I know." May held her harder. Solid against her.

"Please don't leave, May," Daisy grasped May's waist, her head pressing further in her chest. "Don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere," May rasped, her words firm and full of conviction. "I'm right here, okay? I'm always with you, Daisy."

But she wouldn't be. There was no way to ever ensure that, to ensure her loved ones’ safety, her family's survival. Daisy was going to lose them, or they were going to lose her. Death was inevitable, loss was too, and it didn't help that the odds were always stacked against them.

Enoch was right.

But Daisy didn't say anything, and decided to let May's words seep into her anyway, because Daisy was on the verge of a panic attack and she couldn't afford the loss of control right now. So for this moment, Daisy decided to believe May.

******

Daisy's eyes snapped open, her groggy mind trying to comprehend her surroundings. She had fallen asleep, slowly Daisy lifted her head up and away from May's chest to look into her wide awake eyes. Glancing around, Daisy realized May had moved them to a wall near by.

"How the hell did I fall asleep?" her voice was scratchy and low. "Did I, like, pass out or something?"

May grinned. "Honestly, I think you might have."

"Oh, how long?"

"Not long enough."

Daisy exhaled slowly. "Well, I'm sorry."

"It's all right. You needed it."

Daisy gazed at May's warm smile and noticed her eyes were a little red, realizing that May might've been crying with her. Gratitude and affection rushed through her. They had often joked about it, how Coulson and May were like her parents, but deep down, Daisy had always been speaking from the heart. They were.

Daisy caught May's hand in hers, "Thank you. I don't say it enough,"

May's brows knitted. "For what?"

"For taking care of me, for showing me how to survive and basically teaching me everything I know. For saving my life."

"You never need to thank me for any of that.”

S.H.I.E.L.D. did take a lot of from her. But it had also gifted her with something so rare, so utterly precious. Irreplaceable. It was tangible and real and hers. Daisy would take all the pain in the world if it meant having them. Having this family, keeping it.

"Er, hey."

This time, his voice wasn't as jarring, in fact, somehow Daisy was waiting for it, her ears welcoming its irresistible warmth as her eyes finally met his.

"Hi."

"We should start working out a plan and figuring out exactly where they are," May said, her body suddenly rising up to its full height, Daisy following right after. "I'll see you back inside in a few minutes,."

With one last gentle smile, May was walking away from them.

"Are you okay, sounds very pointless right now. So I'm gonna ask if there's anything you need from me."

Daisy's lips instantly quirked to the side. "Not right now, no. But thanks."

She wanted to ask him how he moved Jiaying, where exactly did he put her. Daisy wanted to see her, but her heart seemed to whimper in fear at the thought. Would she be able to do it? Daisy needed to focus on the mission, and maybe later, if she actually survived, there would be time to say proper goodbye to her mother.

"For now, all we need to focus on is getting Simmons and Deke back," she told him as they both started walking back.

Sousa sighed, eyes flitting away from hers. "I know. It all happened so fast. I couldn't stop him."

"You were with her?"

"Yeah, and I didn't have time t - "

Daisy stopped in her tracks. "Hey, it wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could've done."

Even though Sousa knew she was right, she could still sense some lingering guilt in his eyes. But Daisy could more than understand why he felt that way. Because how many times could she have killed Nathaniel? How many ways? Instead, she did nothing but watch. Helpless to stop any of it.

"What happened wasn't your fault either," Sousa said softly.

A part of Daisy didn't like the fact that he seemed to be able to read her so easily after knowing her for such little time. But the other, much bigger part of her, was just so grateful for him. Grateful that she didn't have to talk much for him to understand. So grateful that he was here.

Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts.

Daisy peered at Sousa."Well, I guess it doesn't matter if it is or not. Guilt sticks with you anyway it can."

Sousa nodded. "Sometimes, it can be an irrational feeling."

"But in this case, it's justified. He didn't even want Jiaying. If she hadn't been here at all, then she would've - "

"No, you can't think like that," Sousa interjected quickly. "it'll drive you crazy. There was no way for you to know that. It was out of your control, Daisy."

Daisy could feel her insides recoil at the incessant image that wouldn't leave her mind. "He'd told her. Before he killed her. She - she knew who I was. She was trying to protect me."

Sousa stepped up to her, his palm kindly touching her arm. And Daisy didn't flinch away from him.

"She had died honorably. I know things were bad in the future with her. But this was your mother, Daisy. And she had done what she was always supposed to do."

The silent tears slipped before she could stop them, Sousa's hand rubbing her arm soothingly.

"You know, I'm really glad you kinda pushed me into talking with her."

Sousa smiled warmly. "Really? 'Cause it didn't look like it."

Daisy snorted. "Well, I wasn't at the time. But now I realize I needed the push. . . So thank you."

"Anytime, Daisy."

The way he'd said it, as if he were cementing the idea that he was going to be there for her, anytime. And Daisy wanted to believe him so badly. But she couldn't let herself hope right now, not so soon after. Everything got taken away from her, and Sousa was no exception. Sooner or later.

Daisy sent him a simple nod in response, their legs moving forward again. Daisy didn't want to go inside; the air was probably still thick and heavy with the recent calamity, the devastation. Devastation she was still feeling.

But Daisy didn't have the luxury of mourning right now. Her friends were in trouble, which of course meant the world was in trouble. She needed to push through, as always.

She could let herself think that seeing her mother again brought her nothing but this suffocating sorrow. But Daisy was choosing to view it differently. She was glad that she was lucky enough to have seen Jiaying like this. To hear her say, my daughter, one last time. Daisy was glad she had the chance to look at her mother's beautiful face, and not see years of torment and hate clouding her eyes. Daisy was never even supposed to see her again; she was lucky in that sense.

Or at least that was how Daisy needed to look at it, in order to be able to move on. Because thinking of it any other way could so easily crush her.

Daisy got to see her again and that was enough. Because maybe asking for anything else was too much.

It always was.

#prepare to let it leave #agents of shield #daisy johnson #melinda may #sousy #daisysous #daniel sousa #may and daisy #dousy #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#aos

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bloodysteel · 5 years

Note

I saw your post about prompts for your follower celebration, and I was wondering if you might be inspired to write something about Murphy & Raven. A canon-based prompt = a scene from any of their years together on the Ring, or maybe the missing scene where she finds out he gets shot in late S5 and she almost left him behind. Non canon/AU prompt = would love something holiday or cold-weather related! Love this couple, so thanks if either of these work for you!

Hello ! Thanks for you prompt ideas, so yep, it really did work for me ;) I chose to mix their years on the ring and her finding out he gets shot in S5.

Warnings : Mature & Ansgt ahead :) More under the cut or read on AO3

As soon as they were up in the sky, Echo taped on Raven’s shoulder and whispered the news in her ear. Her face turned white and she stood up suddenly, excusing herself and rushing out of the control room. Shaw frowned but Echo waved him out, he would get explanation later on.

Raven limped to the room but paused at the door, watching as Emori soothed his wounds, passing a wet cloth on his forehead. Abby was there; she seemed to have examined Murphy and ready to set off. They still hadn’t noticed her standing in the hallway. Abby told her he needed rest, food and attention but he would soon be better. Emori nodded and thanked her without looking up from Murphy. He had his eyes closed under Emori’s touch; Raven thought he was asleep when he thanked Abby too. Taking care of them was the least she could do after everything that happened.

Abby almost stumbled on her as she was exiting the room. “Raven, I’m sorry, I-“

“Abby, don’t.” Raven walked past her into the room and both Murphy and Emori looked up at her. She kneeled down next to the bed, close to Murphy’s face. Her stare was hard on him, like she was about to hit him. Murphy was holding her stare, just as hard. Emori suddenly felt out of place – she didn’t what to two had lived when they were left alone on the ship or when they had been taken by the Eligius crew.

“I’ll check on the others. I’ll be back soon. Rae, you look like you could kill him now, please don’t.” Emori smiled at her joke, but the two seemed to ignore her. She sighed and just followed Abby’s trail out of the room, closing the door behind her.

“So, are you here to finish the work?” he smirked and she wanted to smack him but she could see the bandages around his torso. The tears started to well up in her eyes. She let her head fall on the unarmed part of his chest and closed her eyes.

Murphy was somehow taken aback by her move but looking back at their history, he could have expected it. He put his hand on her hair and started caressing her. The quiet sound of their heartbeats and breathings was soothing her; he wasn’t dead, he was going to be ok. She thought she had cried all of her tears a long time ago but she found out her heart could still bleed.

He will be just fine.

She tried to persuade herself but right now, she just needed to cry. She had to allow herself to be weak for once. He smelled a bit like medicine, but also like he used to smell when she hugged him for the first time, when she thought she was going to die, when Becca was in her mind, when she wanted to go float herself.

“I’m sorry.” She rose her head from his chest. The words hung in the air, like the unspoken ones she would never utter, those she would never hear. I was scared to lose you. I don’t want to be parted from you. I can’t live without you.

“It’s not like you shot me, Reyes.” She backed up a few inches against the wall and sat back against it. He tried to sit up but winced in pain all the while. She tried to reach out to help him but he waved her away. He didn’t need her that way. He didn’t want to be weak – he would recover entirely according to Abby, whereas Raven would never get her leg back because he shot her.

“I almost left without you. If Bellamy hadn’t been there, if Monty hadn’t carried you – you would have been gone.” I would have lost you.

Her eyes were still red from crying and the tears were still not far from spilling down her cheeks again. That fact alone hurt Murphy more than his wounds did. He couldn’t stand to watch her suffer anymore – she had already suffered enough and part of it was directly his own particular fault.

“You didn’t. That’s what matters. You didn’t and we’re both here.” He smirked again but it didn’t reach his eyes and Raven couldn’t smile back. “You still managed to save the day again, Reyes. I know you wouldn’t have left me on purpose, trust me, I know it. I still don’t trust that boyfriend of yours on that part, though.” He cracked a joke, trying to cheer her up.

But it landed flat and she just looked down at her hands. “Yeah, my boyfriend.”

“Trouble in paradise?” he inquired. The subject was shifting, they both knew they were on a slippery slide there but they also knew it would be easier to talk about than how she almost left him behind. It was unbearable to her – she couldn’t fathom what Bellamy had been through on the Ark. The mere possibility of leaving him behind – she couldn’t.

She sighed. “He told me he loved me.” It felt like another blow to his chest. Just as bloody and painful. He clenched his jaw hoping she wouldn’t notice – but she did.

“And you answered?”

She glared at him. “I love him, Murphy.”

He was dead. Dead, dead, dead. Three words, eight letters – eleven blows straight through his heart. But he had no right, no claim over her happiness and love. He had no right because he had Emori and he loved Emori. Raven knew that, she had been the silent witness of their love for years. Until she wasn’t but that was another story, another time when life was a dull pain up in space.

“Yeah, right.” He said through his teeth.

She didn’t know what to tell him next. Of course she loved Shaw. But she loved more than one person. She held all of her friends – present and past – close to her heart surrounded by love, even though she couldn’t voice it. She loved Shaw.

She just wasn’t in love with him.

But she couldn’t voice that either. She couldn’t allow herself to think about it when he was lying hurt before her, when he would have dead if not for Emori – the one he loved – because she almost left him behind to die. Actually die. No black blood survival possible. He almost died, and she still couldn’t accept it.

“You okay?” She eventually asked, her eyes on his bandages, trying her hardest not to look at his bare chest. She tried not to remember too vividly the time her fingers lingered on this chest lazily as his own fingers lingered on her bare back.

“Yeah. Emori took good care of me and promised Abby she would carry on.” She nodded and the silence settled between them once more. The words wouldn’t come out of her mouth, she couldn’t voice them because she feared her voice could break from it and tears would start rolling down her cheeks again. She hated being so weak, she hated that it was his fault, she hated him. And more than anything, she hated that she couldn’t hate him for everything he did to them – the both of them.

“You too are back together, I guess?”

“I love her, Raven.” He mirrored her and the words pierced her heart like an arrow.

The fact that they needed to voice it to make it real spoke more than their own words. Raven feared someone might want to enter and break their bubble, she wanted to stay with him that way forever. She knew she would open up to him if they stayed that way and it scared her too. Still, she didn’t want to go.

“I know. I remember, don’t you?”

Of course he remembered, how could he have forgotten when that night hunted all the nights after? When her touches spoiled all the touches that came after? When her kisses just ruined all kisses that Emori put her heart into?

–

It was a night about a year after Murphy isolated himself from all the others. Emori was sleeping in Raven’s room because the silent and loneliness in her own room was too hard to bear. But Emori was snoring and Raven’s thoughts were too loud for her to sleep. She could hear Echo’s moans in the dark of the night and was almost jealous – she remembered Bellamy was good at it. So good when she had needed it so much back on the Earth – she realized only years later, when he confided in her after days of staring down silently at the burning Earth below them, that he had needed it too. He had needed to make the pain go away too, the same kind she had felt at the time, except it wasn’t for Finn, but for the blond beauty he had gone with.

Raven couldn’t sleep; so she decided to take a walk round the Ark. She walked past Echo and Bellamy’s room, confirming the two were still in their honeymoon phase and fucking at every opportunity – Raven was happy that Bellamy had eventually moved past Echo’s flaws and Clarke’s memory. She still couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if Clarke had come with them. She smiled to herself; of course, Clarke and Bellamy would have tossed and turned one around the other until that day where they wouldn’t leave their room either.

She missed Clarke, she missed her friend, even though times had been hard and she hadn’t always agreed with her choices. But she knew Clarke always tried her best for her friends, for their survival and well-being, taking the weight of hard choices on her shoulders to carry alone.

Wandering around lost in her thoughts, Raven eventually entered what they called Murphy’s no-go zone. It was late in the night, so Murphy must have been sound asleep. Raven turned around to go back into her quarters.

Except Murphy was there standing in her way, smirking wickedly at her.

“Someone got lost? Or were you trying to find me?” he said slowly walking toward her. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her – he only ever fought Bellamy, because that’s what they did and liked to do. Bellamy usually won, but sometimes he would let him win to see if it brought something out of him. Nothing could bring something out of Murphy anymore. Raven had listened to Emori cry and mourn her love for Murphy for months until the grounder girl was finally over their love story.

“Yeah, well, I’m out. Let me pass, I’ll just leave you to your madness, Murphy.” She tried to stride toward him so he would let her pass, but she ended up face to face with him. Too close, her mind screamed.

“Seeing something you like?” he smirked when he caught her staring up at him.

She blushed and smacked him in the shoulder. “Shut up and let me pass.” The hallway was narrow there and she was sure she wasn’t strong enough to fight him out of her way.

He sighed and moved away. “And here I thought you came to see me, too bad.” He was playful but she could hear a hint of sadness behind his smirk. She didn’t move and frowned, staring at him. She couldn’t help but feeling sorry for him – life secluded on the Ark drove him into a form of madness they couldn’t help him out of. Clarke could have reached out to him – but only cockroaches could understand one another.

“I can stay if you want.” She said and even though he tried to hide it, his face lit up at her words. He showed her the way to his quarters and she wondered if any of them had been welcomed there before her. She guessed not.

There was a mattress on the floor and some plates scattered around, books too. His place was a mess, like his hair, like his smile, like his clothes. But damn, his smile. It sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach – she suddenly had a wish to murder said butterflies.

Thinking back at it, Raven hadn’t had a man in her arms since Wick. She swallowed. She couldn’t be thinking that about Murphy, right? Murphy who broke Emori’s heart, Murphy who shot her and made her leg limp for forever.

Still, as he sat on the bed and invited her to do the same – there was nowhere else to sit down if not on the cold metallic floor, she felt her heart grow and blood pumping fast through her heart. She joined him, trying not to fall down on the mattress because of her weak leg – she was surprised to feel Murphy’s hands on her waist helping her down. She was almost too stunned to thank him, she realized at that moment she had missed the one that had become her friend over the last years.

“When are you coming back with us, Murphy?”

He snorted. “Why?” Setting his dark eyes on her, staring in the deep of her soul.

I miss you.

“We miss you.”

He smirked and look up at the ceiling. “No you don’t. I can’t bear this metal box. I can’t bear being here anymore.”

I can’t bear being worthless anymore.

“Murphy, we’ll go down. We won’t stay here forever, but we need to stick together. We can help you, you’re not alone in this.”

He shook his head. She didn’t understand, none of them did. He couldn’t scream it, because he didn’t understand it himself. The pain was too much, the guilt. They left Clarke behind, he should have gone in her stead to fix the radio. He wasn’t useful to them anymore, he had never been. They all managed to find a purpose on this ship, he didn’t.

“Raven, you’re not alone either.”

His words struck her like a blow. She followed him there to comfort him and it looked like he was doing the one comforting her. She realized she had felt alone, even surrounded by her friends on the Ark. Because she was the one responsible for taking them up, and therefore they all relied on her taking them down now the Earth was survivable again. They didn’t pressure her much, because they knew it wouldn’t serve their purpose, but she still felt alone, because she knew it was all her fault if they ended up staying forever up in space.

“Without, we’d all be dead, Reyes. Be proud, raise your head. You’ll find the solution. Now, if that’s all you wanted to hear and need nothing more from me, you can leave me to my nightly thinking of how useful I am to this goddamn ship.” He let himself fall back on his bed, his hands behind his head. He raised an eyebrow at her and then closed his eyes. She guessed he expected her to go away, but she wouldn’t.

“You’re not useless or worthless, Murphy.” He snorted without opening his eyes. Maybe he hoped it would make her go away but Raven wasn’t that easily taken down. “You’re our friend, you’re my friend and I care about you as much as I care for the others.”

Or even more. More now than ever, but I won’t tell you that, you stupid cockroach.

“Whatever.” She frowned, looking down at him. Murphy wasn’t a man of emotions but a man of actions. He needed her to prove him wrong, to prove him they still cared about him – that she still cared about him.

So she did the first thing that came to her tired and sleepy mind. She laid down next to him and curled around him before he could protest, but her chest on his chest just below his chin. He smelled good.

And those goddamn butterflies kept fluttering.

“What the hell!” he grunted and she shushed him. He tried to sit up before her weight didn’t let him – or he wouldn’t just push her away. So he gave up easily and just put an arm around her waist, his fingers touching the skin that her top had left bare. She felt electricity coming from his touch, but couldn’t react on it. She heard his heartbeat fasten and breath quicken and smiled at that – maybe Murphy wasn’t too insensitive, maybe all he needed was a hug.

“This doesn’t feel as bad as I thought.”

She smacked him and heard him laugh. Yeah, that felt good. She pushed herself up to look at him and noticed how content he looked. He opened his eyes when he felt her staring and maybe that was it, the spark that lit their fire. His gaze hot on her as the butterflies kept wanting out – all Raven knew next was that her lips were on his and suddenly he flipped them up so he was on top of her, his chest pressed against hers.

It was messy, sloppy and mouthy but it was hungry most of all. His lips were chapped and he tasted like danger but it felt better than anything she had ever had. His hands were rough on her skin but it was electrifying. She wanted him, she wanted him bad.

She arched her back grinding against him and groaned as she felt him growing hard above her. She was out of breath, they only parted for a few seconds – one so she could take off her top; two so she could take off his shirt; three so he could look at her all flushed under him and keep this memory forever in his heart.

He was careful taking off her brace and she soon realized she was naked whereas he was almost still fully clothed. He shut her up before she could protest with another hungry and angry kiss, battling their tongues while her hands roamed her body as if his life depended on it. Then his kisses trailed down her jaw, her neck, her breasts and never stopped, her breath hitching as his lips reaching the curls of soaking cunt. She looked down at him smirking at her before he licked her cunt and she arched her back with such force she could have knocked him down. With a hand on her waist, he forced her down as he began nipping, licking and sucking at her clit, inserting one than two than three – when she begged for it – fingers inside her pulsing cunt making her cry as her orgasm came in waves and crushed her.

All happened so fast and before she could realize it, his mouth was back on hers and she could taste herself on his tongue. It used to disgust her when Finn did that but with Murphy – dangerous, reckless, cunning Murphy – it had a whole other flavor and it made her moan under him.

Her body seemed to wake up from the orgasm, she grasped his belt and tore his pants apart, pushing everything down so she could finally have access to his cock. As her fingers squeezed slightly his manhood, he paused his kissing her neck and hissed, frowning as he was obviously trying to hold himself back.

“Inside. Now.” She panted and he didn’t wait for more. With his pants still on his knees, he grabbed her by the ass and aligned himself with her cunt, pushing inside her fully soaked pussy in a common cry of pleasure.

Once fully inside her, he paused, letting her adjust to his size and when he felt her squirm under him, he started moving. Painfully slow first – just because he wanted her to beg for it and even though she wouldn’t let herself do so, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck me faster, Murphy, or I swear I’ll do it myself.” She groaned and he smirked at her, crashing his lips on hers and with no warning, he started pounding into her. Her cries echoed in the metallic box, joined by his groans. The smell of their joined sweat made her head turn. She wanted more, more of him as she clung to him, scratching his back with her nails, driving him deeper and deeper inside as they were coming apart together.

They stayed tangled and out of breath for a while, Murphy on top of Raven as he was growing soft inside of her. His face was stuck in the crook of her neck and none of them wanted to move – because it meant dealing with the feelings behind what they did or at least facing that yeah, they worked good together.

Murphy eventually moved, kissing her jaw softly and rose from the bed. She looked up at him, and they laughed together at his pants half undone.

“Want to stay?” He asked

Yes. Yes I want to stay. Not just for the night.

“I should go, Murphy.” He smirked again, his signature smirk, but the sadness was back in his eyes. She couldn’t stay, she couldn’t face the others knowing what they’d done – couldn’t face Emori. The girl was still in love with Murphy, no matter what she tried to pretend.

Raven hurriedly put her clothes back on and rushed out of the room before Murphy could see how shaken she was, how wet her eyes were and how much she had wanted to stay with him.

–

“You should have stayed.” He ended up saying.

“You should have made me.” She whispered and he thought she hadn’t said it when they heard footsteps. They both thought someone was going to enter and notice how shaken they both were. They were lucky enough nobody came in.

“Would you? Would you stay?”

“You love her.”

“You love him.”

They both clenched their jaws. She wanted to scream. She loved Shaw like she had loved Wick or Finn. She had loved them with all her heart, but it wasn’t enough.

“I’m in love with you.”

It was a whisper, a small one. She thought she had dreamed it and she was sure it was on purpose – he surely didn’t want her to hear if it wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear.

But it was.

The tears started flowing back down her cheeks but this time, she smiled through them.

#murven #murphy #raven reyes #the 100

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hydrospanners · 5 years

Text

no kind of romantic. Doc knew what he was getting into when he signed up for this marriage, but that doesn't make him feel any better about spending his first anniversary alone. SWTOR. Angst & Fluff. F!Jedi Knight x Doc. 2100 words. AO3.

On the first anniversary of the only one of his weddings he actually bothered to attend, Archiban Kimble comes home to an empty apartment, pours a single glass of whiskey, and considers his life choices. He takes the holocomm from his pocket and tosses it onto the kitchen counter, the durasteel leaving a deep gouge in the luxurious, organic wood that would fry every one of Ceetwo’s circuits if he saw it.

(What does it say about his state of mind that thinking of Ceetwo is enough to make his heart ache?)

The light on the comm is still flashing as Doc traces his finger around the smooth metal edges, hesitating each time it passes the button that will play a message he’s been avoiding since yesterday. He doesn’t know why he’s putting it off. He knows perfectly well what the message will say, just the same as he knows who’s to blame for it. He’s the one that left. He’s the reason they’re clear across from the galaxy from each other today. Doc’s never been the sort to avoid things before but--

Well.

It’s the day is all.

He knew when he married Nirea Velaran that she was no kind of romantic. Back then, Doc hadn’t thought he was much of one either.

It’s funny the kinds of things you learn about yourself.

He’s never expected Rea to be the sort of person who remembers anniversaries. She’s got a whole galaxy weighing down on her shoulders and most days she’d forget her own name if Teeseven wasn’t there to remind her. On the list of things it’s important for her to know, the day Archiban Kimble sprang a wedding on her is pretty damn near the bottom. He knows that. He’s okay with that.

He doesn’t need her to remember. Doesn’t need her to make any kind of sentimental gesture. He just needs to be wherever she is.

He’d made plans, back when this residency first came up and he realized what day was right there in the middle of it. He’d thought he could just take a few days off, make a hyperspace jump to whatever warzone she was knee deep in out on the rim, and the problem would be solved before Rea ever knew it existed. He’d imagined laying her out across the war table after lights out and making her come at the exact moment Seeger had made the whole thing official. It would’ve been just the kind of romance his wife would appreciate.

But the timing was shit. A three day trip for some quick sex between shootouts would’ve kept him trapped here, alone in this glittering hell, for an extra three weeks. The math just didn’t work.

He’d thought he might bring Rea to him instead, but he knew almost as soon as he mentioned it what a longshot it would be. In the two months he’s been on Coruscant, she’s planned four separate visits. She hasn’t shown up for any of them.

Doc knew it would be like that when he said yes to this job. He’s a smart man. He knows his wife, knows how she lives and where her priorities are. He knew from the start that he shouldn’t expect to see her until his time here was up. He knew he was staring down the barrel of four months apart. Four long months of dirty holocalls and drinking alone. Of cold beds and eerie silence in a luxurious, yet strangely uncomfortable apartment. By himself. Alone.

He’d thought he would be okay with it. He’d survived twenty-seven years without Nirea Velaran. How bad could four months be?

For being such a smart man, Doc could be a real dumbass sometimes.

He taps the ‘play’ button on his comm.

A spectre of Rea appears in the air above it, blue and crackling. The image quality is too shit to really make out her expression, but he thinks it looks like guilt.

“You know what I’m about to say.” Her voice is tinny and distant. Blaster fire is screaming in the background. “Probably past time I stopped making promises I can’t keep so I guess… I’ll come when I can. I miss you like hell and--” A loud noise cuts her off and the image cracks, shifting into formless static. When she reappears a few seconds later, the picture is hazy and distorted, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the signal. She says only a few words before the message is abruptly cut off. “--and I love you, Archiban.”

Doc lays out his suit anyway. It’s Rea’s favorite, the same burgundy and crosh hide from their first date, and if sitting around, drinking her favorite whiskey in her favorite suit is the closest he can be to her right now—Well, he’ll take what he can get.

He takes a long, hot shower before dressing. Lets himself indulge in the luxury of steaming water cascading over his body, loosening the tense muscles in his shoulder and neck. He briefly considers letting his left hand be his date for the evening, but it’s too disappointing a replacement to work up any kind of enthusiasm.

He’s honest-to-stars moping.

Tomorrow morning he’ll probably laugh about it. He’ll shoot Rea an overwrought message about how the stars aren’t as bright without her that’ll play as a joke even if he kind of thinks it’s true. It’ll be charming and funny and he’ll think of how her whole body seems to bloom when she laughs and that thought alone will get him through the week.

For tonight, though, he sighs into the foggy mirror and half-heartedly moisturizes. Decides to go full self-pity and skip the shave--overgrown stubble is the traditional look of loneliness--and skips straight to the cologne. It’s Nirea’s favorite, rare and expensive enough that he saves it for special occasions, though he doesn’t think she’s ever noticed that. She always thinks he smells delicious anyway.

For the life of him, Archiban can’t figure out why he’s bitter about that.

Marriage can be hard. And not always the fun kind, either. He wonders if he should call his mother and congratulate her on finally being right about something. He’s sad and starved enough for attention that he goes as far as picking up his holocomm before it occurs to him that this level of pettiness will set Rea’s relations with his mother back by decades. He hardly cares what his parents think of his wife or their marriage, but Rea sure as hell does.

He’s still a little surprised by how devoted she turned out to be to his family. Archiban hadn’t spoken to his parents in over a year when he woke up one morning to find her on a holocall with his father and his aunt Tilly. They were talking about pazaak.

She still talks to them more than he does. He suspects she likes them better than he does, even though none of them seem to like her much at all. (Honestly, how can he be expected to like people who can’t appreciate Rea? He’s met Sith--an alarming number of them--who have a better sense of her worth.)

Because he’s a masochist, Doc wraps himself in the expensive amaranthine robe that Rea’s still trying to pretend was a gift from someone else and heads back to the kitchen for another drink. He probably shouldn’t--not without his unsinkable Jedi to back him up--but he’s already committed to this moping thing and Archiban Kimble never does anything by halves.

He pours three fingers of Rea’s favorite Corellian label and he’s two fingers in before he notices the glint of metal in the corner of his eye.

Teeseven is parked in the middle of the living room doing no kind of hiding. (He can almost hear Rea’s voice in his head. “If he was an assassin,” she would say, “you’d be dead.”)

But he isn’t an assassin. He’s an astromech with a stream of flowers bursting out of an extension in his chassis that Archiban is pretty sure was intended for a flamethrower. The whole living room is already covered in delicate red and pink petals, and they’re starting to drift into the kitchen through the breeze from the open balcony door.

He blinks. Faintly, he hears the swell of orchestral music. It takes a minute before he recognizes it as the soundtrack to that Alderanian romance vid he secretly loves. Curious, but not daring enough to be hopeful, he lets his feet carry him toward the sound. Toward the balcony and flicker of candlelight against the darkened skyline. Toward the familiar scent of citrus and spice and metal.

Rea is waiting for him.

She’s standing there looking like some kind of goddess, draped in gauzy blue shimmersilk that clings to every perfectly sculpted muscle on her perfectly sculpted body, smiling the most shit-eating smile he’s ever seen. There’s a storm of flower petals as the wind whips around her, tossing her hair in just the right way, setting the candles to flickering.

It’s a scene from a starsdamned vid.

“Holy shit,” he says.

“Happy anniversary,” she says.

When it becomes apparent that he’s not going to be able to move any time soon, Rea rolls her eyes and comes to him. He’s probably imagining things, but he’s pretty sure she crosses the landing pad in slow motion. He’s also sure there’s a producer somewhere adding special effects to his mind that make her fucking glow.

He means to say something smooth about how devastating she looks and how much he’s missed her and how painfully in love he is, but what tumbles out of his mouth is, “I can’t believe you did all this.” And then, because he’s already committed and Archiban Kimble never does anything by halves, he puts the back of his hand to her forehead and adds, “Are you feeling okay? Not possessed or anything?”

And because Rea is Rea, she just laughs and pulls his hand away, pressing a wet kiss to his palm as her thumbs massage the inside of his wrist. It’s a testament to how lonely the past two months have been that he finds the gesture almost unbearably erotic.

“I love you Archiban Kimble,” she says, pressing a kiss to wrist. “I wanted to make sure you never forget it.”

Doc drinks her in with wide eyes, his veins on fire with love and desire and longing, his stomach swooping to his knees as her plush lips stretch into the most heart-stopping smile he’s ever seen. Nirea Velaran is no kind of romantic, but here she is anyway. Dressed like a starsdamned princess, kissing his hand in the middle of a scene straight from a storybook.

It’s the most romantic shit he’s seen in his entire life, and she did it all for him. Because she loves him.

They’ve been married for a year, and his heart still stutters in his chest when he thinks of it.

“Never thought I’d see you speechless, Handsome.” Nirea’s grin turns wicked as her hand strays to the back of his neck, stroking the downy hairs at the nape..

“I love you,” Archiban breathes, totally unable to summon his usual brand of humor. “And I’m gonna keep doing it forever, like the wookiees. I don’t wanna stop.”

He doesn’t know how much time he has. Maybe just the night. Maybe not even that. But he decides in that moment, as she throws her head back and laughs that warm, throaty laugh he’s been missing like hell, that she’s going to feel as loved as he does before she leaves. He’s going to wring his heart out and bathe her in every fucking drop of love that pours out. He’s going to smother her. He’s going to terrify her.

He’s going to have the best damn first anniversary that any man has ever had.

Rea’s still laughing as she draws him down for a long, lingering kiss. He luxuriates in it, in the feel of her lips, warm and chapped and smiling against his. When he draws away, she kisses her way along his jaw and up to his ear.

He sighs happily, relishing the feel of her so close. Her scent and her energy. “I would marry you now if I hadn’t done it already.”

Her laughter brushes the shell of his ear like a caress. “You old softie.”

Doc pulls back, failing utterly to hide his grin as he pretends to be offended. “Watch who you’re calling old,” he says, then adds, “And soft.”

Rea waggles her eyebrows in a way that shouldn’t be as seductive as it is—it’s been a long couple of months—and presses her hips closer to his. He wants her so bad it hurts. “Prove me wrong, Doctor Kimble," she purrs.

“I think you’ll find I rise to every challenge that comes my way.”

“Stars above,” Rea groans, dragging his mouth back to hers. “Stop talking and kiss me you impossible man.”

#swtor #archiban kimble #swtor doc #jedi knight #docember 2018 #nirea velaran #the velaran legacy #my fic #folks i am catching up #might actually get 11 pieces of doctent published before tomorrow ends

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musicprincess655 · 5 years

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Oh. He’s beautiful.

It’s an almost involuntary thought as Hiyori dives over his head, the relay pass perfect despite their lack of practice. As automatic as an answer to Hiyori’s greetings, as thoughtless as an answer to a question he already knew by heart.

Oh. He’s beautiful.

Ikuya doesn’t think this is just platonic anymore.

***

They put their fight behind them. Of course they do. It only seemed so world shattering to Ikuya because they’d never had a big fight before. He’d thought he was protecting himself by pushing Hiyori away, and it had only left him lonelier than he could stand.

So they make up, or at least, they move on like nothing ever happened. Almost like nothing’s changed, except everything has.

You were probably that boy’s hero.

It only makes sense that Hiyori had been in his life for far longer than Ikuya realized.

Ikuya was finally forced to look away from the wounds on his heart that had never quite healed right, and when he had, his eyes had landed on Hiyori. He hasn’t been able to look away since, and he’s noticed things.

Things like how Hiyori’s smile isn’t quite as complete as he used to think it was. Sometimes it looks real. Sometimes Ikuya even believes it is. But sometimes, when Hiyori thinks Ikuya isn’t looking, when Ikuya turns fast enough to catch him, he sees another emotion, one he doesn’t know how to read.

One he’d like to understand.

They return to their status quo, and it should be what Ikuya wants, but it isn’t. He doesn’t know what to do about it, though, because he’s not sure how to break the peace. He doesn’t think he can just say I think I’m in love with you, a little.

He starts observing Hiyori, trying to pick up on all the things he’s missed, and while he starts to learn that even if Hiyori’s face is a blank smile, his body language can tell a different story, he doesn’t actually find answers to the questions he really wants to ask. Questions he’s not even sure how to ask.

It’s not until he sees Makoto picking Haru up after a joint practice that he realizes he can ask someone other than Hiyori.

***

Haru is still notoriously bad at answering his phone, but it’s not like they never see each other, and when they do, it’s easy enough to pull him aside.

“How did you…?” Ikuya tries to figure out what he’s even trying to ask. “When did you and Makoto get together?”

“At the end of last year,” Haru says. Ikuya stares. He’s never been good at reading people, and Haru has always been a challenge for everyone to read anyway.

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“You were practically married when I knew you in middle school!” Ikuya protests. Haru just shrugs. “How did you finally get together?”

“I thought I would lose him,” Haru says. “We talked it out.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Hiyori cares about you too,” Haru says. Ikuya starts. He didn’t think Haru…he didn’t think anyone else had noticed. “It’s easy to see when it’s not you.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Ikuya asks.

“What if he does?” Haru counters. “What if he leaves?”

That, Ikuya figures, is a good point.

“I don’t remember you talking this much in middle school,” Ikuya says. “I thought the only thing in your head was swimming.”

“It was,” Haru says. “It didn’t work out for me.”

Haru has a boyfriend and a growing potential on the world stage. Ikuya thinks it’s worked out pretty well for him.

“Hey Haru?” Haru waits patiently for Ikuya to gather his words. “Thanks.”

Haru had actually given him pretty solid advice. Now it’s just up to Ikuya to follow through on it.

***

Ikuya and Hiyori are walking after class, and it’s just like nothing has changed. Hiyori babbles away about some café he saw, more to fill the space around them than to make actual conversation.

Just like nothing has changed, but Ikuya wishes something would.

He keeps trying to find a good opening to talk, to say that he doesn’t want to go back to the way they were before their fight, to say that what he feels for Hiyori isn’t what he assumed it was for years. And there’s never a good time, no matter how much Ikuya wishes there would be.

He walks, and he just feels more and more frustrated, until he can’t take it anymore.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” he finally asks. Hiyori comes to a stop, shocked enough that his gentle smile drops.

“Why would I be mad at you?” Hiyori asks. “I’m never mad at you.”

“Maybe you should be,” Ikuya says. “I started a fight.”

“I pushed too hard,” Hiyori says. “Maybe you could’ve been nicer about it, but you had every right to tell me to back off.”

“Not like that.” Ikuya wants to yell in frustration. “I hurt you, I pushed you. Why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Do you…” Hiyori licks his lips, and Ikuya finds himself unable to look away from the flash of tongue. “Do you want me to be mad at you?”

Ikuya doesn’t want that at all, but he also doesn’t want Hiyori to keep forgiving him at the expense of himself. And now they’re completely off track, and nowhere near what he actually wanted to talk about.

“You…you just…why won’t you ever tell me what’s going on with you?” Ikuya demands. “You just pretend everything is fine, and I can barely tell when it is or not!”

“I am fine!” Hiyori insists. “We’re fine!”

“No, you’re not!” Ikuya argues. “You don’t tell me anything! You pretend the fight was your fault, and you keep your feelings to yourself, and you didn’t even tell me you were the one to save me way back then!”

“You know about that?”

“I guessed,” Ikuya says. “You and my brother were both so weird about it, and it’s the only thing that makes sense. Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

He throws his hands down, just to let off a little steam, but Hiyori takes a step back, puts his arms up defensively. Like he’s expecting a shove.

And Ikuya refuses to let that stand.

Before he can stop himself, he moves into action, reaching up for Hiyori.

The kiss is terrible. Ikuya terribly misjudges their height difference, and his lips land somewhere below the corner of Hiyori’s. He pulls back just long enough to see the shock on Hiyori’s face, before he has to look somewhere else.

“Why did you do that?” Hiyori asks, high and breathy. Ikuya can’t make eye contact, but Hiyori’s chin isn’t any safer, too close to his lips. He settles for looking at Hiyori’s collarbone instead.

“Because I wanted to.” Ikuya thinks he could just never look above Hiyori’s collarbone ever again.

“You did?” Hiyori asks, voice still unbearably breathless. He reaches down for one of Ikuya’s hands, lacing their fingers together. Ikuya forces himself to look up and meet Hiyori’s eyes. When he does, they’re wide and open, and for once Ikuya can read him perfectly.

Hiyori leans down slowly, and this time, the kiss is much better. It’s just a simple meeting of lips, but it sends a jolt down Ikuya’s spine all the same. When he pulls back, he offers Ikuya a smile. Ikuya’s been observing Hiyori a lot these last few weeks, and he thinks he’s starting to learn how to read those smiles.

This one is real.

Ikuya’s never been good at reading people, but he thinks for Hiyori, he’d like to learn. If it means Hiyori will look at him with those wide open eyes and genuine smile, Ikuya will learn everything he has to.

They start walking again, and Hiyori starts up his babbling again to fill the space around him. It’s almost like nothing’s changed between them.

But everything is different, because they walk side by side, and their fingers are still laced together, hands swinging between them.

Ikuya never wants to let go

#free!#hiyoiku #my writing #free!oneshot #yeah thats right its 2019 and i wrote a free fic

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letgolovemyself · 3 years

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Something about the way when Sam said it must be so hard to be the type of person I am and feel lonely is to be expected hit me different. I know everyone deadass loves me until they really get to know the real me. Maybe that’s not true. How many people know the real me? I guess a lot of the people that do have left, but for the most part I’m happy they did. I don’t feel like anyone really knows AND gets me besides Sam and Christian, maybe my parents. I can’t think of other people that have seen me at every aspect of my life and chose to love me. I feel like a show sometimes to people but maybe I put that show on. I genuinely refuse a lot of the time to deal with the absolute insane amount of pain I’m in. From a lifetime of being misunderstood, rejected, thrown away, not listened to, being forgotten about... I’m sure a lot of it is my fault as well. How could I have loved someone so deeply while also pushing them so far away? I really want to believe in my full confident self that the only reason B has me blocked is because he knows I could rope him in easily. I feel that 90%. That is why it was impossible for him to leave, but when he did, he was gone. I really do and did love him to the absolute best of my ability given the place I was at. And somehow knowing that it wasn’t right and wasn’t going to work out does not take away an inch of pain, somehow it makes it worse. I guess sometimes you love someone so much that you’re so willing to overlook how horrible it is just for a second of how good it can be. But the bad always overweighs the good. I know there’s no forgiving, turning back, taking back, there’s none of that. Like Justine said, my self confidence does not match up with the things that I have accomplished on my own. I am so used to treating myself like shit and having others do the same, that even when I have all the things I want, I still want the shitty things. I know I’ve made myself look good by lying so many times, but I was not lying to Justine when I told her that I genuinely will not beg a person to stay in my life. I will not give my energy to anyone who does not deserve it. I will not disrespect myself anymore. I can make new friends. I can find a new boyfriend. I can start all over any time I want. I did not lie to make myself look superior. I did not do that. For the first time in my life I was being honest. I don’t want friends who talk shit and make fun of me. I don’t want a boyfriend who doesn’t want me. I don’t stay where I am not wanted and I genuinely do not take shit because I will not give my energy to it. I was not lying. And obviously Justine, a person I’ve known for 3 weeks does not know me at all, but Christian, and Taylor, and Sam, and mom and dad, they all see this significant change in me. I see it within myself. There is this light within me that I never knew that I had. I have accomplished and pushed myself and accepted myself in ways I never thought possible. I am proud of myself. But it’s very lonely here. I am so traumatized and so jaded and so hurt that I feel it’s impossible to find a love that lasts. I fought and I fought hard and the other person was not fighting. I don’t want to cry anymore. It’s been 7 months of me crying all the time. I don’t want him to have power over me but I’m pretty sure it’s not him, it’s my refusal to accept these losses and this defeat. And the pain is truly unbearable.

I pray to God I never love someone who does not love me. I pray to God I strut every fucking sidewalk and subway platform forever. Because I deserve to. Because I am a person who solely picked themselves up and learned how to walk again without anyone’s help. I will not make myself feel bad. I will not feel embarrassed.

I love you but I love myself more.

I don’t want to go on this date at all but it makes no sense to me that I am dying of loneliness but not willing to seek out anyone to help me get through it. All I want is you but I know that isn’t an option. It’s time to move on.

Do you ever think of me? Do you close your eyes and think of me holding you when you are vulnerable and want to fall asleep? Do you look at old pictures of me and wonder where we went wrong? Do you remember all the things we did together, all the memories we made, all those moments we stared deep into each others eyes with all the hope in the world? Or is that just me? Have I been alone in this the whole time? I am trying to fill this void you left inside me with myself but sometimes I feel like I am getting further and further away from what I need.

I cry sometimes because I found comfort in thinking of us in an isolated cabin, in the middle of the desert, in a new country, anywhere foreign and strange felt okay because I thought I had you, up to the last month we were together, and you were not even close to the same feeling. The emptiness, the self-hatred, the pain, the feeling of your heart sinking into your soul, I would never wish that upon anyone. I’m pretty sure that’s not a feeling you felt with me. You were always my comfort, I was always your hell. I begged you to let me go and you lied to my face for your selfish, cowardly, unknowing gain. Yet you blamed it on me when I told you time after time, day after day, month after month, year after year that YOU are my home. You are my home regardless of where my home was. This world, this universe, my God, this earth knew I was not lying when I said you were my home. I was an grain of sand on your planet when you were the soil, the foundation of me, and I will never let that happen again.

And I pray to God, I pray to God, I will never lose myself to another man. I pray to God I will never let someone take advantage of me because it was easier than telling the truth. I will never disrespect myself again to ever let you say a word to me again. I have become the best version of myself while you were holding me back, bringing me down, constantly making me feel inadequate. The fact is, and I told you, you have nothing to offer me. I did charity work dating a piece of shit, low life, momma’s tit sucking, loser with no goals for 5 years because I gave my life to making you better while you did not have the capacity to understand me. So genuinely, go fuck yourself. Go have your happy life with that white girl you’ll call your wife, the one your family feels comfortable around. The girl that will pour soup out of a can and call it dinner while showing her PBA card at dinner. You go have that girl, you can take her. Because there’s one thing I refuse to be, a girl with no values, something unusual to a dick like you, a girl who doesn’t say much because she doesn’t want to see you grow. A girl with no brains so she can fit inside your empty hole, that hole you call a brain, the same lack of space that called me insane. Think about this when you’re laying next to your complacent girl, I remember that ex that told me I could do better, I need better, I should stand up for my feelings. But you’ll be happy as long as she leaves you with no needs. You are a stupid fucking piece of shit. I’m stupider for not having realized it. 40 pounds down, killing it at my job, more savings in my bank than your family could dream of, I did this all without you, without you dragging me down telling me I was a fool. But look at all I have because I grew, all because a dumb scrub like you left me, so I flew.

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ethicalredhat · 5 years

Text

Darby Warner

Career Information

Occupation: Freelance Hacker and (unlicensed) Private Detective

Affiliations: ട0ṬeRiậ (Formerly)

Biographical Information

Aliases: Heedless Murmur (Handle)

Date of Birth: September 21st

Age:28~34 (It really depends on the verse)

Status: Alive

Pronouns: She/Her or They/Them

Ethnicity: Mixed-race Native American and Caucasian

Nationality: 🇺🇸 American

Sexual Orientation: Asexual ♠︎️ (Doesn’t fully recognize that’s what it is/kinda denies it)

Romantic Orientation: Biromantic ⚤

Family: Terri Warner (Father), Rose Walten (Mother), Phillis Walten (Half Sister)

Physical Description

Gender: Female

Height: 5′7 (171 cm)

Weight: ~165 lbs (~75 kg)

Appearance

Darby is a muscular, handsome woman with tousled curly hair that rests atop her broad shoulders (sometimes worn in a bun or ponytail). Her dark eyes by default hold a calculating if not deadpan look in them though sometimes during social interaction there’s a spark in them.

Her clothing style stays on the “masculine” side and Darby seems to prefer flamboyant prints. Mostly seen in more professional clothing (button ups, trousers, blazers, loafers, ect) though she’ll go for more casual looks depending on the situation. For accessories she has the same old men’s wrist watch she’s kept since high school. Any other accessories are for necessity such as caps and sunglasses for Incognito Mode.

Personality

Not much for talking except for when she is, a true ambivert at heart. She avoids people like the plague but when the option for social interaction appears Darby will almost always bite, although cautiously since she has a paranoid streak. One of Darby’s biggest problems is that she unknowingly lies to herself. Deep down she craves human connection but due to her lifestyle (mostly after the events of La Galerie as she’s on the run from the UK branch of Mobius) she tries to keep herself isolated for others protection. Going by her cold exterior, Darby could be chalked up as your usual The Stoic archetype if not for the playful side of herself she sometimes lets run amok.

Long ago she learned to use her taste for dry humor as a defense mechanism, a shield between herself and the world. So at times, though rarely, Darby may seem she doesn’t take dire situations seriously but it’s all just a way for her to avoid her own emotions. Post La Galerie her already dwindling self-assurance has dropped, leaving her mind partially scarred from the months she spent inside the machine. During her lower moods when she’s just about hit rock bottom Darby can become successful in her attempts to keep her feelings snuffed out. Some days she’ll walk about like an empty shell and this is when the darker under layers of her personality can arise.

During these moods Darby has been known to display harmful and impulsive behavior such as having a complete disregard for her own safety, moral conduct, and lack of empathy. Her etiquette almost becoming Sociopathic in nature.

So all in all, Darby is just your typical human being with many different sides, moods and layers.

History

Though her parents are reluctant to admit it, Darby was born as the result of infidelity as her mother Rose Walten was stuck in an unhappy marriage when she got involved with Darby’s father Terri Warner. Unable to safely divorce her current husband as he was extremely abusive she simply walked out the door with her two daughters-Phillis Walten, and an unborn Darby who was still growing inside her.

Rose ran her cafe so she often wasn’t home and Terri had an office job though once the kids got older he started mostly working from home so he could spend more time with them. Darby’s love for computers started early when her grandpa bought her dad a newer model computer but he never used it, preferring his chunky 90′s computer to complete his work. It was then she began learning the ins and outs of computers. Long nights were spent pouring over any relevant books she could get her grubby child hands on, or through whatever info she could find over the internet which eventually led to her learning coding and programming as she got older.

Since early childhood Darby had always been athletic and only became more so as she grew older. It didn’t take long for her to be labeled a “Tomboy” but due to her androgynous appearance and unusual demeanor many of her classmates second guessed her gender. This naturally drew unwanted attention and cruelty. When high school arrived her confidence lowered significantly and she kept even more to herself. It came to a point where Darby just stopped going to school and got her GED, shortly after getting involved with a hacker group that simply went by ട0ṬeRiậ. Although they only communicated though a screen for the longest they were Darby’s closest companions. She had dabbled with hacking in the past but it was with ട0ṬeRiậ when she truly began to learn, but as her skills grew so did the ambition of the groups members. She had a falling out with them and that seemed to be the end of that until they threatened to frame Darby for a cyber crime a member of ട0ṬeRiậ had committed if she didn’t return to the group. Pushed into a corner she returned to ട0ṬeRiậ until she manages to collect and report all necessary information about the group and their crimes to have them arrested-keeping her own existence anonymous from the authorities all the while. Now with her former friends out of the way, Darby once again found herself alone.

She had few friends in school but after having to drop out they drifted further apart. She had the love of two, albeit, busy parents and her older sister Phillis but deep down Darby couldn’t shake the seed of loneliness that had long ago planted itself in her heart especially after the betrayal of ട0ṬeRiậ who she had believed in the beginning were her friends. This is the point where Darby started turning her hacking skills into a career. For the next several years she would turn over many criminals to the law in a very “cyber vigilante” fashion. Once she started making a name for herself people would contact her offering jobs. She did the usual missing persons, cheating spouses, ect, but later on the jobs started getting more bizarre and dangerous. For example the events of “La Galerie” Read Verses Page For Further Information

Relationships

Terri (Terrance) Warner

Darby had a good relationship with her dad but there was always a wall between them as her father suffered from undiagnosed depression due to his sad childhood. She still kept in contact with him until La Galerie where she cut off all ties with her family for their own safety.

Rose Walten

The two also had a fine connection but as her mother was almost always away at work Darby didn’t see as much of her as she would have liked growing up. Last time she spent any real time with Rose was a weekend after Darby graduated where she helped out at the cafe. Any other interaction after that had been over a phone and now nothing at all.

Phillis Walten

“I won’t leave my sister to die.”-Phillis, talking about rescuing Darby from La Galerie

The sisters always had a close bond since in their childhood it was mostly just the two left to their own devices. Growing up they did start to go their separate ways but they still found time every so often to do things together. The two haven’t had any contact since La Galerie.

Marnie Michelle

“This place messed with my mind, but I remember enough to know you don’t deserve an easy death.”-Darby, preparing to kill Marnie

One of the two hosts hooked up in the janky makeshift Stem system. Very hostile to one another (more so on Darby’s part), the almost opposite morals of the two women made them natural enemies. Marnie spends the entire plot of La Galerie serving as an antagonist to Darby, either thwarting her attempts at escaping the machine or tormenting her. After the months of torture Darby is subjected to during her time in the machine the hacker makes sure to pay it back tenfold when she kills her.

Dr Stuart Turney

“Is that where you got your degree in being an insufferable pretentious bitch?”-Darby, interrupting Stuart

The other host of La Galerie, Stuart almost tries to befriend Darby at times seeming a bit smitten by the hacker. Darby is openly aggressive towards the doctor, attacking him on almost every occasion they run into each other. Once he realizes she can’t be swayed he becomes much more unsympathetic to her. He eventually meets his end at the hands of Phillis who entered the machine to save Darby.

Trivia

In her free time Darby enjoys exercising (most notably yoga), puzzles (Darby has wasted many an afternoon on puzzle boxes), watching dramas (mostly foreign ones), and staring into the void.

In the past Darby has suffered from slight body dysmorphia most likely stemming from the criticism she received about her looks in both child and adulthood. Nowadays Gymnophobia is her only issue. Nude artwork won’t necessarily bother her but being seen naked can have varying effects for her. This has lead to some rather unbearable situations for her during times when getting undressed was required.

Has no qualms (at least in the moment) with killing someone if she has to and has done so in the past either in person or indirectly.

Doesn’t fully realize it herself, but Darby has a manipulative side and is a bit of a control freak.

Although never displayed as of yet, but if Darby were to acquire a friend (whether it be platonic or romantic) she might develop a well meaning tendency of lying to them/keeping them in the dark about what she does for a living if they aren’t already aware.

Darby has no faceclaim but Michael Hudson a Native American model and Ezra Miller were the inspiration for Darby’s appearance. Update: Technically Q’orianka Kilcher is Darby’s main faceclaim but she’s just too damn pretty and has like the opposite vibes that I need (I have very few icons using her because of this) so sometimes I use other folk for icons such Mica Arganaraz, a little bit of Ezra Miller and Willy Cartier but as they are all the incorrect ethnicity I try to partially obscure their faces.

#ethicalredhat rules/information #rp blog #evil within oc #the evil within rp #muse info #horror rp #original character

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wolfgangamaderik · 7 years

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Mother’s Monologue

Every woman on Earth is praying for a child.

All girls are trained and raised in the manner and thought of one day, they are turning to be a wife, and then, a mother. Nine months are being spent in various inconveniences, mingled with otherworldly excitement to be able to finally see that baby growing under one’s heart, and convincing oneself that these much pain and uncomfortable feelings will worth it in the end.

I remember how much I imagined your face when I closed my eyes, I tried to guess who you will resemble. Will you look like your father or me? Maybe you even inherit your grandparent’s features? Will your eyes be blue or green? Or brown, like mine? I mostly did picture you with blondish brown hair and light green eyes, as a smaller copy of your father. Even though his hair was turning gray, he still had beautiful blondish hair, and I wished you would carry on his looks. I often wondered if you will become a boy or a girl. Your father wanted a son, I secretly yearned for a pretty little daughter. He would repeat all day that a firstborn should only be a boy…

Well. Here that “boy” is. Here you are. For more than three years, you are here to stay, sadly.

So many children are taken nowadays by various illnesses and diseases. The neighbor’s two year old daughter was just buried as she died in smallpox. You caught it as well, but you seem to be fine now. And I even helped you, and felt sorry for you, wanting your fever to break. I don’t understand myself. On every other days of your life, I wished you dead, and now that you were so close to it, I prayed for your survival. God listened to me. You are still here.

I am blessed with my ‘child”.

But what kind of a child you are? How in God’s name can a human being look like you? You are not even a human, I am sure. You are just a THING. You don’t resemble any human being I have ever seen. Not any of my relatives… You have ugly yellow skin, you are thin as a skeleton, I wonder how on Earth those spindle-legs can support your weight. How did you learn to walk? How can you follow me around the house, like a disgusting, frightful shadow? Oh those sunken, non-existent eyes of yours, that remain fixed at me all the time… they fill me with horror. I wish you just stopped staring at me. And when night falls or you are in a dark room, they even turn worse, as they start reflecting the light they collect, glowing yellow. You are a damned owl! You stare at me like a stupid mindless bird. But the worst trait your skull head has still aren’t your malformed ugly lips or your evil owl – eyes, oh no! The most disgusting and repulsive part of you is that nose you don’t have. I put the mask on you because of the enormous hole you have in the middle of your ugly face.

How could I look at you for more than a moment without my stomach being turned if you didn’t wear it, tell me? I know you don’t like it. You try to remove it from your death’s head, thankfully, you are not that smart to know how. I doubt you are smart at all. You don’t talk, even though you are more than three years old. Any other child would say a few words before they turn two, but you don’t talk at all. I wonder if you even think of anything, or just spend your days blankly staring at me. You dull thing. You stuff. You miserable patchwork.

I know I am not supposed to feel this way about you. I know I have to take care of you, as I gave life to you. I am your mother, however I loathe the thought of giving birth to something like you… Every single day since your birth I have to face the emotions of disgust, pity and hatred at the same time. I hate myself, and I hate you for making me feel this way. This is the Circle of Hell. You don’t work on making me get to like you, as you do absolutely nothing other than forcing your stomach turning presence on me, following me around, clinging to the hem of my dress with your corpse fingers, looking up at me without a break. I only have some peace and privacy when you sleep. You sleep too little time for my taste, and when you wake up, you appear again. What do you want of me, really? You don’t talk, you don’t act normally, so what on Earth do you want? You are not a child. You are a stupid clingy mini corpse.

There are some days I hate you so much for being here, like a monster that I could burn every piece of furniture you touch with those cold hands. You are so unbearably cold. You accidentally touched my bare skin sometimes, on my hand, and since that I keep wearing my gloves so I don’t have to feel your freezing little claws again. Only your fever could make you as warm as a human being. I have to protect myself from your touch, so I wear gloves. I have to protect myself from your sight, so I make you wear a mask.

But the worst thing isn’t this. Maybe I could slowly but steady get used to your appearance if I wanted to. But I can never forget and forgive what you have done to me. You aren’t only an ugly corpse, and you don’t only make my life miserable by your accursed ugliness… But the fact you murdered someone, who was the dearest to me in my life other than my own parents, it is unforgivable. You killed your own father, my dear husband. That’s why I am here, stuck with you in a house, without anyone to at least ease my pain and loneliness. I have no one to talk to, because of you. The moment he took a glimpse of your horrid features, he gasped, turned pale and put his hand on his chest. He fell to the ground… and never woke up again! Do you know what it felt like to be left alone after giving birth, with a dead husband and a baby like you? Can you imagine how hard it was to hide you when the doctor came to state that the love of my life had passed away? Because of you!

Your face caused his death! I will never forgive you!

You… thing…

And the Father, when you wanted to baptize you… he told me to give you a name. How on Earth should I have given a name to a murderer, to a corpse, to a disgusting THING! What name should you deserve? There is no name, not even the most unpleasant sounding one that would fit your face, and your first act of your birth. I finally gave you a name, the most common one you can imagine. But I refuse to call you by it ever. I refuse to call you by any name. It would indicate you were actually a human being, while you are most certainly not.

Why you are on this Earth, tell me? Why are you alive? You do nothing but make my life miserable day by day. Your existence has no point at all, other than just being a nuisance. You have no hope for a normal life. You have no hope for even turning out somewhat smart. You can’t talk at all... I can be somewhat happy and thankful that you were at least able to learn to use the chamber pot, so I don’t have to change your diaper any more. I did not think you had so much brain to turn out to be potty trained in the end. You will end up spending your days like this, without a single word, just walking around in the house after me until I finally slowly wither away next to you. You dumb and ugly creature. You pitiful excuse of God’s creature. No one and nothing will ever want or need you. I wonder if any other woman who gives birth and finds out they have a monster as a baby, what they would do with you. I am sure no other woman would want a child like you either. They would scream and kick you off of the bed just as I did. And that’s how I saved your life. You did not cry out at birth, and if I did not kick you off of the bed, maybe you would have never turned out to be alive. I saved your miserable life while you took my husband’s. It was an accident, you can thank your life for!

In all your life, I wanted you dead. I wanted God to be righteous. If you took a life, he should take yours in return! But you stay and stay, surviving each and every illness you get. You just had smallpox… And yet I still did not want to see you dead. Why? WHY?

Oh, go away… go away! Do you understand at all what am I telling you? No, of course not. Don’t dare to sneeze again, I will have to clean your “nose” again, that is something I am so much tired of. Don’t touch me again, do you hear me? Again you cling to my dress. Leave me alone. Stop babbling, you thing! That’s all you can do, babbling, you little murderer.

Go away… go away… go away!

#my phanfic #The Phantom of the Opera #Leroux!Erik #child erik

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gracieisnotmuchofawriter · 4 years

Text

Process of Getting Closer II

I don’t know what Jude is, they’re a person I like and that’s all that matters, fuck it.

It’s the first weekend I haven’t taken my painkillers since school started. The loneliness can leave me paralyzed and wanting to just get away. But Jude is helping a lot, even if they don’t know it, and even if it’s just the first weekend of knowing them.

Today, we decided to sit outside at this bench just outside of the resident building. We got food from a Taco Bell from down the street, what we ate is irrelevant, but we sat at the bench, the sun setting in front of us. Everything from cars to kids to the architecture shined red and orange, the sky was a washed out blue from the brightness of the sun.

It was another humid day, the guys and the girls walked around in tank tops, denim shorts, and basketball shorts. Some kids from network administration wore khaki shorts with their polo shirts tucked all the way in. Then you have the few chubbier guys wearing whole ass sweaters, I can relate kinda, I mean, I was wearing a very thin shawl-cardigan-like-thingy even though the air was so fucking thick. Then the amazing, top-notch goth girl in our classes wore a black sweater with a design she made herself, skinny jeans with fishnets visible from the torn slits at the sides. She’s also a ginger. She said hi to us when she went into the resident hall.

“So what do you think of college?” Jude asked, they take a sip of their drink, looking at me through squinted eyes.

“It’s okay, I really like how quiet it gets compared to my house, but then I also hate it.” My house isn’t loud per se, it’s just someone’s always up, doing something. I think I’m just used to the noise.

“You just used to the noise?” They ask, seemingly reading my mind.

“Yeah, I try to sleep with my computer on, but I’m afraid I’m gonna break it from doing that.” I say, the time my Xbox’s fans stopped cooling everything ran through my head.

“My roommate has an unopened thirty-two inch for sale, she only wants like seventy bucks.” They said, but I was more interested in something else, “Okay, maybe saying ‘ONLY’ is a bit much considering it’s still seventy dollars and we’re broke college kids.”

“So your roommates a girl?” I ask, hoping to find an answer.

“Yeah, they accepted my application late since I wanted to be an RA, or a resident assistant. I got accepted to be one so they just put me up in the last available RA unit. It just happened to be with girls.” Jude shrugs, they take a bite of their food.

“Doesn’t that seem, I don’t know, a little irresponsible?” I said, taking a drink of my teal sugar water.

“Yeah, I guess, but I got a bedroom and a bathroom all to myself, I mean, you saw it, would you care if you had all that?” They say with a shrug.

“You’re right, what’s it like being an RA?” I ask, Jude’s face turns a bright, intense orange as the evening slips away.

“Looking forward to having no debt at the end of this, but honestly, I wish the school didn’t have a three-strike rule when students get locked out of their dorms. It gets really boring sometimes.” Jude says, taking another sip from their drink.

“See anything bad happen?” I asked, long forgotten are the basis of Jude’s sex.

“Like a woman getting roofied or whatever? Nah, guys around here are good boys, thank God.” Jude takes another bite, “Though, I do know some guys around here have anger problems.

“Apparently, every summer they have to repair some drywall that was sunken in.” Jude shrugs, sipping on her drink.

“So how are you roommates? Anyone giving you any problems or what’s up? I’m bored.” Jude says as they turn to me, the shadows become sharp and defined from the waning golden hour.

“Asha forgets her keys a lot...” I say, last weekend, both Saturday and Sunday she called me to let her in after she got off work.

“Asha? Asha Torres?” Jude says, their voice is filled with curiosity and wonder, I nod at them.

“Asha paid that third strike fine three times already.” Jude says chuckling.

“She has a job, so it’s probably no big deal to her, or at least until last weekend.” I say, remembering my food, I take a bite and sip of my fizzy syrup.

“What does she study?” Jude asked, the orange glow still shimmered off of their face.

“Hospitality management I think? I don’t know, she’s really into customer service for some reason.” I say, I start passively sipping on my pop, my blood thickens like a model after she makes it big.

“Explains why she’s so cordial, where does she work?” Jude asks.

“Hostel One? It’s by the storage place in the Commons, I think.” I say, visualizing the hotel when her and I went to the mall, before my dependency started.

After a while, the air wasn’t so heavy anymore, the breeze was cool and it made my armpits and boobs less sticky. My face still felt like a grilled cheese sandwich, though. Jude’s face still glowed in the twilight, they were really pretty and handsome. I was exhausted though, my cravings were getting bad, my leg started bouncing and I felt that empty frustration in my stomach. I put my head back in the bench, my hair hung off the back. A gnawing question started to eat away at the back of my neck.

“Are you gay?” I ask, in a way I regretted it, it felt like it wasn’t any of my business, but then how do you talk about your roommates for an entire weekend?

“I like how vague the term queer is these days, I fool around with anyone I fancy.” They say matter-of-fact-ly.

“I thought it was mean to call someone that.” I said as I counted the stars that came into view above me.

“Not anymore, it’s a word that’s kind of been saved by queers like me.” Jude says, snickering.

I giggle a bit, they join me, I look over at them and they sit back, same as me, our eyes meet. ‘This feeling is amazing.’ I think.

“So what kinda genitals are you into?” Jude says, their smile seems genuine, but teasing.

“Big ones, small ones, innies.” I start giggling again, Jude snickers before they burst into an intense giggle fit.

“What a way to say vagina.” Jude says, their voice trailing off.

“I don’t really know what I like, to be honest.” I clarify. There weren’t a lot of people I liked that way in high school, maybe just one person.

“That’s fine, anyone you crush on in high school or maybe here?” Jude asks, I had a feeling that they were fishing for me to respond positively, but then I don’t really know.

“I had a bit of relationship develop with this one guy in my choir class.” I think back to this time, before I broke my ankle, before I was prescribed quick-release Oxycodone, before now.

“He was just a very gentle guy, in a school where most guys were kinda abrasive and annoying, he seemed different.” I say, thinking back to that messy red hair, that sharp jawline, those freckles.

“We met at this rehearsal, he was a baritone bass, I was a mezzo soprano, it was a team-building exercise to help us find the same notes.” The trees that line the sidewalk rustle in the mild breeze, leaves fall to the ground, sliding across the concrete, I continue,

“To keep it short, the teacher wasn’t happy with the fact that we both were just mouthing the songs, she also didn’t like that we laughed when we realized we were both doing it.” I chuckle, the choir teacher was incredibly pale. Watching her chest and cheeks and forehead turn the color of a tomato was great.

“Then—“ I don’t want Jude to know how hurt I still am, “he moved to a different city, all of his friends and I lost touch with him.” I didn’t want to tell Jude the part where he kept texting his friends, talking to them on this community-builder app called Discord or whatever. When his friends found out he hadn’t talked to me since he left—it had been a year at that point—they started to ignore him. I’m not really sure if they actually did, though.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Jude asks, their voice is gentle, understanding even.

“I miss everyone I lost touch with.” I turn my head, looking at Jude’s handsome face. A thought barged into my head as I sat there watching them. ‘What’s stopping them from doing the same?’ I try to ignore it, but Jude’s interest reminds me of Robin, they almost look and dress the same, if Robin had white hair, bigger eyes and fuller lips, Jesus they could be twins.

“You know too much now, I think I have to kill you.” My voice is soft and frank, I look at them with puckered lips and I hope my eyes were puppy-like enough.

Jude’s face crinkles up into laughter. I join them.

I have a canvas next to my desk, I used stencils I bought at Michael’s when I learned about Ed Ruscha last month. I did a drip painting on another square of canvas. It was a layered monstrosity of browns, blacks, dark greens and white. I grabbed a silver marker and began coloring the stencils. In Futura Bold, all it said was, “Jude Is Temporary”.

The thoughts of Jude leaving my life was already unbearable. As the time between when we picked up and went back to our rooms to now, all I can think of is that pill bottle. It said ‘Take (1) as needed’, but I haven’t been listening lately. I tried distracting myself from the horrid thought of Jude getting tired of me, but it was strangling me. It even informed what was supposed to be a comforting message. I just really need a way to get out of this headspace. I contemplate calling my aunt and asking to come home for a few days, just so I would be out of the way of my painkillers. I thought about walking up to her, hugging her and telling her I’m sorry for disappointing her so much. Then I’d confess to abusing my painkillers.

“Hey Amber, wanna go out and get dinner—, that’s fucking cool.” Asha says, pointing at my painting.

Amber

#short story #short stories #short fiction #writeblr #writeaway #writing #write #queer #writer #literary fiction #epistolary

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modiintrainguy · 6 years

Text

It’s better than drinking alone

September 30, 2018

08.12

i’m at “home”. well it is home isn’t it. isnt it?

i “own” this flat. or we do.

people always ask you. do you own your apartment. did you buy your apartment and i totally don’t feel like i did buy it.

the downpayment of 95,000 pounds - cant remember what it was in shekels but i know it was just under 100 grand in pounds - came from my dad.

how could we ever buy an apartment ourselves. we save nothing. and i have no connection to any money. i dont know what we have or what we do with it. i just go to my crappy stupid job and every so often E comes in and gives us a payslip which i dont open. just put in my bag and think im going to look at it when i get home.

thats something i find weird cos when i worked in P they stopped paper payslips years ago.

sorry i digressiy junior high.

anyway yeah. yeah.

do i own the apartment. technically yeah. did i buy it - fuck no. the mrs bobught it. as we discussde the other day, she said i was so crazy at the time i was screaming and shouting whenever we would have a place to look at so looked at most of the places by herself with E. thats how she heard about all his pre-depression womanising at university.

and she said. then, the other day, that he, E, the fucked up depressive who had to be hospitalised, he said he cant understand how she can put up with me nd my shit.

lets focus on that for a minute.

i was so bad. so sad and agitated and stressed and uncomfortable that i would explode with anger. i would hijde at home to avoid looking at apartments that i didnt want to buy because i knew they wouldnt be right so it was a waste of time. well i didnt know but it seemed clear and its unlikely i was wrong.

so if E made it clear that he thought mrs was making a mistake staying with me. what the fuck was she doing.

at least im trying now. therapy. called the ADHD assessment psychiatrist woman. and the ADHD life coach. and sometimes doing the breathing thing.

but that drink called loneliness. is it better to share it?

obviously ive avoided buying whisky cos i know once its here i drink it.

i spend many evenings wishing i had weed. to numb the .... erm uncomfortable feeling. is it pain?

to numb it all. the life. it needs to be numbed and weed would be the easiest way.

but im scared of getting back into it and also of the mrs giving me absolute shit about it. everything i do i just dont want her to resent me. be upset and then blame me for making her life even more difficult cos its so fucking hard already and then here’s fuck up here who could make it a bit easier but instead makes it infinitely more unbearable.

shit ive not even got to the first point letalone the main point.

woh i was sure letalone is a word but this tumblr thing is underlining it in red.

one sec im gonna save this shit so i dont lose it. its the first time ive written directly onto tumblr and not on word for a while. ok its the first im ive written at all since june - nearly 4 months. alot has happened.

the weight. i lost loads, relatively. apparently 15kilo if you assume i was 110 when i started. at least when i went to dr s a few weeks go but im sure ive put on at least 5 over the “chagim”.

today is hoshanaraba! tonight is simchas toira.

we’re gonig to the shulf or supper which is good cos i dont need to plan dinner and the kids will stay up late so we dont need to force them to go to sleep. although tomorrow night will be another thign.

fuck if i dont tell the mrs we need to decide about dates and times for this week she wont fucking do it.

its like she forgets but is it true. i mean if i ask her she would say she does but its also about prioritising.

im gonna whatsapp her now

ok done.

sent this (im gonna edit the names):

[08:30, 9/30/2018] please can u send me a schedule for our working hours for october, starting from tuesday [08:37, 9/30/2018] emember 1. on tuesday (october 2nd) littlun finishes at 4pm 2. on wednesday (october 3rd) we are both going to the bris which starts at 4pm so one of us will need to do a short day and the person who is picking up will need to leave even earlier than usual to pick the kids up in time to get there by 4pm 3. we have the meeting with the litluns ganenet next wednesday, october 10, at 10am. i guess i can work from home that day 4. my dad is coming on thursdayoctober 25 so i will do early that day and then take sunday october 28 as a holiday day to spend with him

ok kids are getting up. have to do this later.

in short - drank whisky in the succa last night. like 3 or 4 big ones. got upset cos shes not interested in sex. worried about pesach. need a more inspiring job.

off to jaffa today. is it all bad. no. should it be better. yes.

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