The beast coils itself from within the woods, long and ungainly, twisted horns of distorted chitin bursting from its eyes. One side of its mandibles is too long, too many eyes flaring in the recessed depths of its sockets. Its wings are twisted, its antenna long and warped, and when it opens its jaws, its speech sounds like a garbled rendition of a dying wasp's screams.
There is no sign of the messenger but his bag of goods, torn open and left by the side of the road; I fear to retrieve even that, staring the beast down as I am. The claw marks that tear his equipment asunder are too long to be of any mundane beast, and yet, as I stare down the monster before me, I fear I know precisely what they may belong to.
It jerks forwards, an unnatural movement, tripping on all too many joints as if it is a puppet on faulty strings. I do not waste time seeing what it will do if it reaches me, taking flight at once. Its wings, it seems, are for show, as it doesn't follow me even as it flares them wide and shrieks bloody murder at my flight.
I leave the last remnants of my junior behind me, guarded by the beast. I can only hope that he forgives me, wherever dead wasps roam.
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one of the few moments between them where they threaten to break the act down.
he knows the answer to the first question; do you believe that? have you ever believed that? all she can do is stare at the floor, almost like she’s been caught. because she doesn’t. and he knows she doesn’t.
her role in this thing that they do is to not believe in aliens. she answered him on that first day, does she believe in the existence of extraterrestrials? she had to say no.
she can’t answer him this time, though. she stares at the floor. but he knows.
he knows the answer to the second question too, though. what do you think happened to her?
scully can stand in front of him and tell him that he’s just being emotional all she wants. tell him that it’s manipulation, that it’s impossible.
but her role in this thing is that she is the rational one, and he knows what the rational thing to think about 8 year old girls who disappear from their homes and don’t come back is.
even if it’s not this killer, even if it’s not this man, the rational thing to think is that it’s another.
so after four years of seeking and chasing and following after as he walks into the same room every day, as he wants to believe, what does she believe? what is she really saying when she says no, she doesn’t believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?
and can they keep the act up, when this is what it means?
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ok listen. you're badboyhalo and having the worst week of your life. you're willing and wanting to give anything, anything, to get your kids back. forever, your crush/enemy/friend/date partner?/ president sits you down and asks you to marry him. he's on a drug that makes him manically happy and has an extreme level of brainwashing for federation purposes.
you consider for the briefest moment saying yes, because you're drowning in your grief and hard in bargaining, but it won't do anything to help bring the eggs back, forever doesn't know anything. forever wants the eggs back as much as you do, the real one at least, you know this.
you're surrounded by roses. you ask him what you can do to help him, what he needs, asking the forever that you know is in there somewhere. any other personal feelings aside, he's your friend and he clearly needs help. he asks you to marry him again. he tells you to stop making some noise that he's clearly hearing through auditory hallucination. you just want your kids back, you keep telling him this, until he snaps and starts shooting mines under both of you.
forever is still out of his mind. your kids are still missing. the roses are burning.
bad said no to the proposal, of course he did. that's not forever, the kids are gone, this is no time or place for such a thing even if forever was himself. but I don't think forever asked because he feels "opposite than what he usually feels" under the pills. he's manic and under the influence and half brainwashed - he wants every day to be the best day.
and how heartbreaking is that? that bad is only being proposed to while forever is out of his mind. that forever wants bad to say yes because that would make the day the best day ever for him. that under any other circumstances, on that bench with the roses all around them, it might have been something good?
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“#true love won't desert you truly a mileven thesis statement of a lyric damn” EXACTLY!!!’ Exactly.
the way mike refuses to let her ever isolate or sacrifice herself. the way he is always there for her when she needs him and vice versa. i am going to cry i love them so much
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God damn I'm tired and extra dizzy today, which I've figured out some of why that happens. Evidently that's my reaction to overstimulation fatigue. Good to know, explains a lot. No idea what to do about it and I did expect to have some sucky days after going to San Francisco anyway so it's whatever, but it's nice to have figured out a specific trigger.
Except that's cool and all but I almost couldn't fold laundry today because it involved a lot of looking up and down and that was unnecessarily rough. This was after sleeping like 11 hours because my shit-ass tired-ass brain demanded a hard reboot more or less, and I'm still kind of gross today even so. Kind of glad they rescheduled the root canal I was gonna have Tuesday for like two weeks out, because I am probably not gonna be quite recovered for another week at least and dental work fucks me up also so that would have been an Everything Hurty Syndrome 2x Combo.
Bleh. At least when I'm writing chronic illness/disability it's some own voices legit type ass shit, but does it have to be, because I could do without this. My whole me hurts and nothing seems to help and also turning my head too fast will knock me the hell over. Good times. ✌️😔
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