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wolveria · 3 years

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Inside Your Wires - Ch 8

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: Connor and the prototype check out the Ravendale district, and as per usual, the android doesn't listen to him.

AO3

Story banner by @uh-kitty-got-wet

It was raining. Again.

And Connor was standing out in it. Again.

At least Colin seemed as miserable as he was, wrapped in his expensive leather jacket while shivering. It was more than a little satisfying that Connor’s practical windbreaker was holding up better under the never-ending deluge.

“Damn thing robs a convenience store, and no one sees where it went,” Colin complained, hunching his shoulders against the November chill. “Why don’t you tell Barbie over there to fetch?”

“Don’t call it that,” Connor muttered, sneaking a surreptitious glance at the android in question. It was standing next to his Mustang, back ramrod straight as it remained facing forward, looking for all intents and purposes just like a plastic doll. It didn’t even blink or fidget as it was pelted with cold rain droplets.

“Okay, Mr. Android Rights Activist.” Colin smirked. “You seemed fine calling it that at the station. Yelled it, in fact.”

Connor turned up the collar of his windbreaker, not dignifying that statement with a response. He was going to have to change the bandages on his cheek when he got back to the station. It stung like hell and was already soaked through.

“Shut up,” he said, halfhearted, before leaving Colin’s side to approach the prototype. Its eyes shifted toward him, its head following as if on a swivel. Connor had noticed it move that way before, and it was uncanny as hell. Like a bird, or a reptile, focusing on something of interest.

Without waiting for Connor to speak, it said, “The deviant fled by bus and didn’t disembark until the last stop. From what we saw of the Ortiz android, deviants don’t behave rationally and are often driven by emotions such as anger or fear.”

Connor scoffed.

“Okay, great. Emotional machines. How is that helpful?”

The YN800 model cocked its head and its eyes slid to the side, a thoughtful expression if Connor had ever seen one.

“Knowing it would soon be pursued by the police, it would most likely choose to hide. And with a young child in tow during inclement weather, it couldn’t have gone far.”

Connor’s eyebrows rose.

“All right. If you were a deviant, where would you hide?”

There was a flash of something in its eyes. It almost looked… annoyed.

Interesting.

The prototype turned and gaze out across the street, its eyes roving over each building with a critical lens, a small crease appearing between its brows. Had someone designed that little dip on purpose? Make it more human and less creepy?

“There’s a motel nearby, but that option would require cash and a change of clothing. It’s a human-only establishment, but it is a warm, dry place to shelter, so this location is high-risk high-reward. There’s also the foreclosed house on the corner, but it is structurally unsound and unsafe for a child. The AX400 may not care.”

It aimed its chin toward a lot surrounded by a chain link fence, and added, “The overnight parking lot may offer a good alternative as well, uncomfortable but discreet. Units should be placed at all three locations to cover the most ground and assure the deviant doesn’t slip away.”

Connor would have loved nothing more than to find fault in the prototype’s logic, just as an excuse to take it down a peg, but everything it said made an annoying amount of sense.

Without acknowledging the android, Connor went back to where Colin and Ralph were hunched miserably in the rain and gave them the update. The rookie got on the radio immediately and coordinated where the uniforms should be stationed, spread out all along the Ravendale district.

The android’s calculations paid off—an AX400 was spotted just down the street, a struggling child in tow.

Connor was about to turn to the YN800 model to give it the go-ahead when it blew past him, a streak of dark jeans and grey jacket with glowing blue accents.

“Goddammit, wait!” he yelled after it. Goddamn android didn’t even have a proper name for him to curse. For insisting on being Connor’s new partner, it sure didn’t act like one, running off or disappearing the first chance it got.

Connor fled after it, boots slapping against the wet pavement as he weaved around groups of people on the sidewalk, diving into traffic around slow-moving autonomous cars where he could.

The officers stationed along the street directed Connor where to go since he’d quickly lost sight of the prototype. It was eerily fast, and Connor wasn’t exactly diligent about getting regular exercise. By the time he caught up to it at the end of an alley, he was panting and wheezing for breath.

“Shit,” he panted through his teeth, staring wide-eyed through the chain-link fence as the AX400 and child somehow made it to the median strip without both of them dying. That fucking lunatic android was going to get the girl killed.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye; the prototype was halfway up the fence before Connor could grab it by the jacket, yanking it back down onto solid ground.

“What are you doing!”

He considered giving it a good shake when it stubbornly refused to let go of the fence.

The prototype ignored him completely, staring through the links to its target like a predator homing in on its prey.

“What I was designed to do.”

It tried to shrug off his grip, but Connor held on tighter.

“It’s a miracle they even made it that far!” Connor snapped, fingers digging into the slippery fabric. “You chase after them, you’ll get yourself killed!”

The YN800 positively glared at him out of the corner of its eye. It was a look so hostile that the air left Connor’s lungs, and he made the mistake of slightly loosening his grip.

The android jerked out of his hold, leapt onto the fence, and cleared the top before Connor could stop it.

“No!” Connor yelled, useless and too late.

The YN800 landed on the muddy embankment and slid down the slope to the highway railing, disrupting the shimmery text of the warning hologram as it leapt into traffic.

Connor was helpless to do anything but watch as it expertly dodged oncoming vehicles, sliding over and under them, always a hair’s breadth away from certain death. Somehow it made it to the median and gave chase, yelling for the AX400 to stop.

The deviant turned, panic twisting its features, and the two androids faced each other at a standstill, an innocent child caught in the middle.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #human!connor x reader #connor x android!reader #human!connor x android!reader #inside your wires #my fanfiction #my writing

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jericholeader · 3 years

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Tossing around an analysis of Markus’ character vs. the concept of him being ‘dominant’ and ‘masculine’ and ‘forceful’, when I.... do not think he would ascribe to those qualities of what is considered traditional and/or hyper ‘masculinity’ at all.

Hear me out: Hyper-masculinity includes qualities such as dominance, aggression, assertiveness (for the purpose of this meta, being ‘forceful’). These often bleed over into sexual characteristics as well.

In Markus’ case, yes, he has a natural charisma and tendency toward leadership. He’s a leader because he believes unremittingly in the personhood of all Androids, the inalienable rights of ‘alive’, the universal access to healthcare (in human circumstances), and the language of inclusivity, not exclusion. He’s a leader because he reaches and insists on doing so universally, not toward just xyz. He brings the language of ‘deserve better’ with him and extends it to all Androids.

He’s not a leader because he insisted on being so or because he was the ‘stronger’ specimen among ‘weaker’ candidates. He has personality qualities (charisma, warmth, idealism) that lend toward giving hope, inspiration, and encouragement. Something very specifically absent from the beginning of his story where he begins to lead Jericho is power. He doesn’t a. exert power over others as a means to lead OR b. arrive with ‘power’ that then he uses to lead.

(and yes, he’s tall, fit, and muscular. He’s physically attractive. Down-right beautiful. But.)

He is capable. Steady. Steadfast. Willing and unapologetic of saying ‘no’ when needed and ‘My name is Markus.’ when it is being forgotten. He won’t be treated badly. He will stand up to and disrespect (as they’d see it) authority when authority is actively undermining the rights and personhood and space of living people.

He’s assertive as far as needed, forceful? Not so much. ‘Forceful’ is the negative counter-part to a good quality: the refusal to be made ‘less-than’ necessitating the drawing of hard lines. It’s a balancing act, but one Markus strikes fairly well. A ‘don’t go over this line’, and not a ‘You Will Listen To Me’.

Ability to fight is not inherent aggression. There are definitely options in dialogue and choice in the game to lead Markus toward a more aggressive attitude. I’m not going to debate the ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ of it, because his anger toward the treatment of Androids is justified it is... just a matter of what it is doing to Him and to their movement. But.

Markus is decisive. He makes a decision and commits. There is little aggression in the way he fights and acts and moves. He is seeking the freedom and future of his people, not the destruction and suffering of humanity.

And dominance? I think it is important to say that one of his lines is cruel. He will not be made to be cruel, no matter what form that manifests (forcing an interface? ‘Hurting’ someone else for fear for his life? No. He’ll die.) You can’t torture him into cruel, or make him afraid enough that he will do so. And he will not choose cruelty as a ‘way out’ or an ‘option’. Yes, there are sometimes bad options. Bad choices. No ‘good way out’. Then... Kill Him. Because he isn’t going to violate Rights or someone’s Mind or insert cruel thing here.

He sees dominance on a blurry line and slippery slope with power. And in the relationship and sexual sphere? He isn’t seeking any ‘power’ in a relationship and certainly never when it comes to his partner’s body. Consent is 1000% required and, next to that, though ‘rough’ is certainly something to be negotiated and talked about, he is... a gentle man, who values the voice and strength and personhood and space of his lover’s.

tl:dr: Markus does not ascribe to what might be considered hyper ‘masculine’ qualities and actively pushes back against them. He is capable, not forceful. He is gentle, not dominant. He takes action, he is not aggressive.

#[ There is suggestive discussion under the read more #just as a warning #I'm also not talking about any one characterization or art or representation of him specifcally #I'm just discussing the idea of him and hypermasculine taits #*traits #and why I see him otherwise #and why I see Him thinking otherwise #Anyway!!#my brain just went !!!#and here we are xD ]

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its-sixxers · 4 years

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please tell us about your HoK and Martin's relationship. I was wondering what their dynamic is like

Aaaah oh boy get ready for a wall of text haha.

tl;Dr tall awkward ranger lady falls in love with nerd priest because they both feel like outsiders and connect over that + their ability to help the other grow and embrace parts of themselves they've tried to silence

and their great great x whatever granddaughter ends up the dragonborn

actual storyline below

So my Hero of Kvatch is named Vaka. She's a Reachman - she has mixed Breton/Nord ancestry and her family line is from the Reach in Skyrim. They're traditionally at odds with regular Nords and Bretons, fighting to keep their territory. They're not well liked. Vaka has never actually lived among the people of the Reach - she was raised by her father, a hunter - but due to her ancestry faced scorn in Skyrim and has remained an outsider most of her life. She ends up in the Imperial Prison for illegally hunting on Imperial land. Vaka is a ranger and a hunter and an outsider, she doesn't much like engaging with civilization.

While initially they’re somewhat suspicious of each other - the native tribes of the Reach are known Daedra worshipers, and the faith of the Nine doesn’t like that much - they find that neither really fulfill whatever stereotypes they’ve been told. They end up getting along quite well - he can share a comfortable silence with her and she offers insight into a culture and life he's never known. Through her Martin's also able to engage in the part of himself he's ashamed of in a healthy way. Dude used to be a Sanguine disciple and I hc him joining the religion of the Nine as his way to repent for the things he did when following a Daedra, and also a way to restrict himself from any temptation. Vaka shows him it's possible to enjoy life, liquor, and song without falling down the hedonistic slippery slope.

Essentially their dynamic boils down to him giving her a home and place in society, letting her feel welcomed and not a freak. She helps him have a healthy understanding of his own humanity and through her he's able to start to enjoy life again. They're both awkward and self isolate and bond over that. She helps him slip out of Cloud Ruler Temple and takes him on camping/adventure trips, educating him about the landscape and flora and having fun teaching him how to shoot a bow. He’ll sit by her bedside while she recovers from injury and read her tales from history or debate philosophy with her. Cooking together is an activity both of them love.

Vaka is also a bit taller than him (woo Nord ancestry) and to Martin's surprise he's into it. ;D

They go from close friends to each having massive crushes on the other, but Vaka's own self esteem prevents her from acting on it and Martin's got duty and responsibility as Emperor bearing down on his shoulders and thinks it's his own selfishness and the darker side of him that wants Vaka. It's not and he knows it.

After the siege of Bruma and Vaka getting out of the Great Gate alive, there’s a big celebration held after. In he height of euphoria at their success and survival Martin and Vaka end up sleeping together. Both realize their feelings for the other but they've got Tamriel to save first, and you know how that goes for Martin. ;-;

Vaka handles her grief with anger and by throwing herself into dangerous situations, so when a portal to the Shivering Isles pops up shortly after Mehrunes Dagon's defeat she yeets herself in there. It’s not until her armor can’t strap on over her thickening torso and Sheogorath himself bursts into laughter that she realizes she’s pregnant. It really cuts down on her self sabotaging instinct. It doesn’t stop her from kicking Jyggalag’s ass and freeing him.

When she is offered the mantle of mad god she takes it, thinking that as a daedric prince she's as close as she'll ever be to seeing Martin again. She figures out how, though they’re only allowed to meet very rarely because, y’know, the whole Aedra/Daedra thing.

Vaka and Martin’s son is born in the Shivering Isles, but Vaka leaves them to raise him in the wilderness, just as Vaka herself was. She refuses to let the Blades touch her son and only tells her son that she’s the Mad God when her son realizes that her mother doesn’t age. The mystery of her father is left for her son to discover on his own, and by the time he does he has 0 desire to try wrangling the title of Emperor. Not that anyone would believe him, either way.

Several generations pass, and by the time Alduin wakes up Martin’s Septim blood finally manifests in the dragonborn herself. Makes sense that the descendant of the man who became an avatar of Akatosh would be the one who had to destroy a corrupted avatar. At least to me. ;)

if u made it this far u are a blessing that’s my whole oblivion feels storyline

#elder scrolls #oblivion #might as well make an oc tag for her even tho idk if i got time to make content for her #maybe once vampire fic is complete #oc: vaka / hero of kvatch

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just-some-random-blogger · 5 years

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Spring

[PART TWO OF AUTUMN]

NCT Jaehyun x Reader & Jungwoo x Reader Characters: Jung Jaehyun, Kim Jungwoo, OlderBrother!Johnny Seo, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul (Ten), & mentions of Lee Taeyong Summary: Running away from your problems never helped anything, esspecially if it can come back and haunt you. Warnings: Infidelity, unhappy marriage, bad relationships, angst, typos prolly, unanswered questions, don't ask for part 3 cos i wont make it lolol, etc. Words: 5k+

A/N: this is prolly NOT what yall wanted HAHAHHAHAHAHA kinda not sorry but this is what yall get. Hello, i hope you enjoy @justacinnamonroll-lover

NO MORE PART 3. THIS IS THE END. BYE. HUHUUH

---

"Hear me out though!” I chuckled as Johnny pulled a pained, slightly amused face. “Listen, I don’t care if you already bought two sky diving tickets! I’ll say it cleary, I am afraid of heights, there is no way I’m doing that.”

I chuckled at this ironically tall buffoon and tread after him and his long legs, “But oppppppppaaaa, remember, you loooove me.”

My older brother made a sound, “Die with your love.”

I pulled my head back and chuckled, “Wow, okay, violent, uhmmmmm.”

Johnny laughed and slowed his paces down. He turned to me and huffed, I nudged him on his shoulder. “Oh, come on, you know you want to.”

“We’ll see how much I want to after you buy my lunch,” Johnny spoke.

“Ooooh, bribery,” I grinned and fiddled with my fingers, “I’m down. What did you want?”

“Oh, no, no, no, the key is finding something that I want, then, then we talk.”

I laughed at the challenge proposed by my brother. “Okay, deal.” I outstretched my arm and we shook hands.

The two of us then strut down the large lobby of this hundred floor building our father owned, ready to head on out for some grub.

At this point in time, Johnny was about to become the CEO... but we all know he doesn’t because of his car crash...

“Mr. Seo,” a voice called from a far corner. Then there emerged a man in a suit similar to my brother. He had a milky white complexion and bright eyes. When he flashed a smile, my heart skipped and my lips mimicked.

Johnny slowed down not one bit and it made it clear to me that this man was simply an underdog looking to buy some of his time. And so I caught my brother’s arm and raised my brows. He turned to me and did the same. I then shrugged and pursed my lips.

Lucky for the man though, he caught up with us before we could exit.

He airily called for my brother again, and this point, Johnny finally noticed him, or rather, finally stopped ignoring him.

“Name?” Johnny blurted, turning to the dimpled man who smiled brightly in relief.

“Jung Jaehyun,” he nodded, “we spoke on the phone, about the expansion.”

For a moment, Johnny looked clueless, up until a light bulb flashed over his head. He begins to chuckle, “Ahhhh, I remember.” Johnny chuckles, “You have such a shocking proposal, Mr. Jung.”

Mr. Jung faintly smiles, “May I offer you to talk about this matter over some lunch?”

“Ah, it’s not me you should entice,” Johnny turned to me, “but who I already have plans with.”

My brows quirked up at Johnny’s words and the man turns to me. I purse my lips and hold out a hand for him to shake, introducing myself.

“Ah, Mrs. Seo--”

“Ani. Ms., Ms. Seo, his sister.” I corrected. Johnny looked at me, a grin forming on his lips. He knew full well my selfishness with his work and how I would readily reject this man. I cleared my throat, “What you want to talk about must be important, but... I have not met with my brother in months, so please understand.”

Mr. Jung’s jaw slacks, “Ah... ye. I’m sorry. Surely family comes first before work matters. I mean, we work for our family, right?”

My lips curve into a smile at his words and Johnny pats his shoulder, mumbling something about calling him later. As my brother and I make our way to his car, I turn to Johnny fondly, “He’s nice. I like him. Make sure to really call him, oppa.”

Johnny whipped his head to look in my direction, as if I just stole a year of his life, “Ya! What do you mean you like him?”

I rolled my eyes and got into his car. He followed. “I just like the fact he has filial piety.”

Johnny scoffs, “You think he’s cute?”

I chuckle, “Yes, but I think you’re cute too.” I tease, moving to pinch his cheeks. He scolds me in annoyance and starts his car after securing his seat belt. I fasten mine as well.

“Stay away from him,” he says lowly, “I won’t approve.”

I chuckle, “Ye, ye.”

---*

"That's how you met your husband?" Ten scoffed at the story I spoke. His wife however had the exact different reaction.

"No, no, no, don't tell me. After that you end up meeting at some some coffee shop near your brother's building and end up having lunch together." Ten says with a sour expression as he feeds his daughter some more baby food.

His wife clicks his tongue at him and Ten shrugs.

A small hand tugs on my shirt, "Can I mwake moor chowate sanwishes?" my son asks, chocolate spread marking his chin and cheeks. I chuckle at him and nod, picking up a tissue and wiping his face.

"What about Jungwoo? How’d ya meet him?" the woman asked, placing a watermelon in her mouth.

"I already told you how I met him, babe." I spoke, making Ten snap at me because of the pet name. I laughed at his cutely jealous reaction.

"Oh, ye, ye." the woman nodded. She clapped her hands. "How did you end up together then? With Jaehyun, I mean."

I breathed in deeply, turning to the blue sky above me.

Honestly, I am so thankful that I the world allowed me to have these two as my landlord. If they hadn't been here with me all this time, I would've probably caved and gone crazy.

I turned to my baby boy, happily sitting on a picnic mat, victoriously munching on the slices of bread he assembled, looking out to the fields of green grass before him. He doesn't deserve that kind of pain, having a mad mother.

"It was at an auction. Jaehyun bought the painting I wanted at an unimaginably high price." I spoke.

Ten clicked his tongue. "What a waste of money."

His wife gave him another look.

"Honestly, I agree," I offered, "he tried to be romantic by buying it then giving it to me, obviously in exchange for a date. But all I thought of him was haughty at that point. I only agreed because, well, I was getting such a beautiful painting at such a cheap price."

"Pah, it still worked though," Ten pointed, "you ended up marrying him anyway."

"Yes, but obviously, it wasn't the painting!" the woman yet again scolded his husband.

I chuckled, "It's not."

---*

"You're as impressive as you are beautiful," the man spoke smoothly, dimples showing. I broke into a bubbly laugh, "Wahhh, that's not very much. But I'm sure it worked on all the ladies."

We continued walking on the damp sidewalk; the rain that has passed made it glisten, similar to the stars out at this moment. I slightly jump as a few raindrops fall on my head as we pass a tree. The man beside me laughs.

"Wow,” I turn to the man who chuckled at me, “how gentlemanly of you, Jung Jaehyun."

"No," he speaks firmly, grabbing my wrist. I look at him, heart fluttering, not caring as to why his reply was such, and confusing. Jaehyun smiles widely, "you are beautiful, Ms. Seo."

My breath gets caught in my throat.

"Are you afraid of calling me by my name?" I speak lowly.

It'd been nearly a month since the day he bribed me out on a date, and I was drastically slipping on this slippery slope to his heart. Yet, he has never called me anything but miss Seo. It slightly worries me.

"I am not afraid of anything," he says and I want to scoff but he continues, "except maybe losing what we have made in this month..." Jaehyun trails off. My hear pounds when he ends his words by speaking my name.

"Mr. Jung," a foreign voice calls for far behind me. I turn around and see that there was an old man that came out from Jaehyun's building, the one we were currently in front of.

I move to pull my hand away from Jaehyun's, but he tightens his grip which lands on my palms. I turn from his fingers to his eyes, his expression was no longer the same. He gently pulls me behind him.

"It's late Mr. Moon, you should be at home," Jaehyun speaks clearly.

The said man clears his throat and moves closer to us, "The vice president said you went home."

"Taeyong wasn't lying," he said, voice mixed with annoyance and slight anger, "I am on my way."

I wasn't the only one who noticed this. Mr. Moon lets out a sigh, "Mr. Jung, please rethink their offer--" "I already told you what I think about their lowly offer." Jaehyun scoffs. "Don't speak to me again outside my office."

With that, Jaehyun stormed away, pulling me along with him.

He brought me to his car and I sat in the front seat. I turned to Jaehyun as he started his Lambourghini, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what, sweetheart?"

I was taken aback by the sudden pet name he used. My breath hitched and it was audible enough that he turned to me. Jaehyun smiled.

"Act cold to everyone?"

He placed one hand on the wheel and another on the gear stick. He released a chuckle, "Don't you think that it's the other way around?"

---*

"Jungwoo!" Ten's wife spoke, "tell me about him."

"Ya, you are so nosy." Ten scolded this time around.

"Wae! I can ask what I want!" she raised her voice then turned to me, "but you only have to answer the same way.”

I chuckled at her expression and it was then that her baby started giggling at the faces her father was pulling.

"He was my happy pill. He brightened my day whenever I felt like I was on the brink."

---*

"I fucking told you, Jungwoo," I snarled, shoving him away, "I don't want to fucking go ice skating."

Why couldn't he take a hint? I didn't even want to see him today because I had seen Jaehyun being flirted with by some young woman in his office. I was bringing him lunch, but all that went into the trash, literally, I dumped it in the trash.

Now I was in a horrible mood.

Jungwoo called me and said he wanted to take me somewhere. I refused, telling him why, but he insisted, saying he could cheer me up. And now just as I knew I would, I was now taking out my anger on him.

I expect him to lash out on me at this point, but instead he chuckled and cooed, "Ah, baby, you're so cute when you're angry." Jungwoo took my hand and pulled me with me, "Kaja, the rink awaits."

The next thing I knew, I was on the ice, latching on Jungwoo for dear life, "Ah, you didn't tell me you sucked at ice skating."

I growled, "Why do you think I didn't wan to fu--" "Ah, ah, ah," Jungwoo pulled way from me, "You want me to pull away?"

"No, you asshat!" I called, gripping him tighter.

"But I will if you don't clean your potty mouth."

I huffed but complied, "Please don't let me go."

Jungwoo blinked rapidly, lips twitching, breath hitching. "Please, what?"

My brows knit quizzically, "Please... sir?"

Jungwoo threw his head back and pulled me slowly into his arms, "Baby," he spoke airily, peering down at me, "I'm not that kinky."

He smiled, and pushed hair behind my ear. He then caressed my cheeks and licked his lips, "Jungwoo. Kim Jungwoo. Remember my name."

---*

"Okay, come on," Ten said, carrying Autumn in his arms, "Time to go home."

I turned to my son who was tumbling in the grass nearby and called him. "Come on. Picnic time is over!"

He turned to me smiling widely, "I had swo mwuch fun! Can we pwicnwic toime again?"

I walked over to him and brought him into my arms. "Of course baby, anything for you."

"Can we bwing appa next toime?"

I froze where I stood and turned to my child. He looked at me with his big eyes and my heart started to hurt.

"Maybe."

He took my words gleefully.

After cleaning up, we went into the car, and drove back home, to our noodle place.

"Oh, look, it's only eight am! It looks like we have to won't open late today." the woman in the front seat beamed. "Ah, I'm excited to cook some ramyeon."

"Darling, you always cook ramyeon. Everyday, to be exact."

"Yes, but why would I tire if it's something I love to do?"

---*

"Tell me, why would I get tired of helping you?" Jungwoo muttered softly, crushing me against his chest. I poured my tears out against his shirt, feeling my neck get pressed on by guilt.

"I'm crying to you over another man, my husband, your rival."

Jungwoo stayed silent for a moment, and at this point, I felt scared, that maybe he realized the weight of my words and would pull away. And when he did, I started to shiver. He spoke my name and I looked up at him.

"Why would I tire of you when I am so helplessly in love with you?"

My heart stopped for a second and then beat like a hummingbird.

Jungwoo wiped a tear rolling on my cheek and looked at me in the soft expression he always did. He let out a soft chuckle and examined my face, "I have seen you at your worst, when you're red in the face, puffy eyed, and runny nosed."

I turned away from him and attempted to turn away. He held me in place and took my chin, moving my head to look at his. Tears welled in my eyes at the sight of his sweet smile.

"Jungwoo--"

"Don't say anything if you're trying to change my mind." he said. "Whatever it is you are facing, I will be here to face with you. And in the same way, I hope to face every other thing you will in the future."

---*

When we arrived at the shop, I helped my son get down from the car. He hopped off cheerfully and turned to me with a smile. I smiled back at him. He moved to go inside, up until he stopped and shouted, "Appa!"

My heart dropped.

The boy ran off inside and I quickly followed after. I called his name as he rushed inside. And just as the boy said, there stood a man there, face wet with tears, eye red.

The boy ran to him and wrapped his arms around his legs, "Appa! Did you cwome for pwicnwic toime?"

The man looked down at the child and I gulped, "What are you doing here?"

"I-" his voice cracked and then he crouched down to the floor, looking the boy in the eyes. The younger version of the that teary eyed, suit clad man, smiled and introduced himself. He then raised his small hands and wiped away the tears streaming down from his face. "Do you haw a booboo?"

The older man let out a chuckle and turned away from the boy, standing up.

"Is he... mine?"

"Of course he is. Would I lie to my own son?"

The man took a step back and knit his brows, "How do you know?

"The same way you're here. It's in your bones... you feel it." I spoke. The boy pouted and tugged the man's jacket, "I can help wiv booboos."

The small person was unmistakenly his, even if he couldn't believe my words. Anyone can see that my son had his father's eyes, nose, and lips.

"If you had known, why did you leave?" he said, voice slightly angry. "Why didn't you go to me?" he added, softly.

"I didn't know I was pregnant, until I was already so far out of reach. And when I did, I figured you don't deserve the trouble."

"Trouble?! He's my son!" he raised his voice. "He's the son of the woman I love... how... how could you think that?"

"I also figured," a tear fell from my eyes, "that if it wasn't trouble, you'd find us, because that's who you are... and I have never stopped loving you."

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darks-ink · 6 years

Text

Ectober Week day 4: Corruption (AO3)(FFN)

Content warning: Major character death (implied), descriptions of the destruction of (animal) ghosts

No one has the power to change the past, only to delay the inevitable. Danny never realized until it was too late.

It was such a slow, gradual change that Danny still doesn't know where it went wrong. Even if he was given another chance, another shot at redemption, he wouldn't know what to change. Last time it was so easy, an obvious mistake with awful consequences, but this time there was no clear turning point.

It started so long ago, although he isn’t sure when, exactly, that was. He likes to think that it was somewhere soon after defeating his evil future self, but he thinks it had started even before that.

At first it was so innocent, almost impossible to tell apart from his normal thoughts. Quiet suggestions that he should defend himself from Dash, that he should fight back, not for himself, but for all of Dash’s victims.

He could see the justice in this, and he listened. The next time Dash attacked him, Danny fought him off. The nerds had celebrated him, and while Sam didn’t approve, Tucker was more than understanding.

When Dash tried again, Danny simply fought back even harder. And the next time, he hit even harder. By the time Dash gave up, not just on Danny, but on all bullying, even Tucker disapproved of his violence. He agreed that it was a good thing that Dash would stop bullying, especially since the other bullies would likely follow his example, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to take it this far.

Danny agreed, but the quiet voice inside his head didn’t let him say so, so he didn’t.

Dash wasn’t the only opponent that Danny faced with increasing amounts of violence, however. The ghosts that continued to harass him and his town were also subjected to his wrath. He beat them up far more than necessary to trap them in the thermos, and he got a vicious kind of pleasure from doing so.

He knew it was wrong to go against his moral code like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The quiet voice in his head crowed in pleasure, and in doing so it drowned out Danny’s own protests.

His senseless violence continued to escalate, and he started going on patrols without Sam and Tucker more and more often. They didn’t approve, he knew, but they couldn’t scold him about it if they didn’t know it had happened.

It was during one of these solo fights that he took the next step towards the inevitable. He was chasing some sort of ecto-animal, barely sentient enough to be aware of its environment, but an absolute pain in Danny’s ass. He had caught the critter several times, depositing it into the Ghost Zone every time, but it continued to find its way out.

Even the severe beatings that Danny delivered didn’t teach it to stay away, and he was just so tired of fighting this same ghost over and over again. The quiet voice in his mind had an idea to stop the ghost from returning, and Danny gladly obeyed.

He didn’t even think about what he was doing as he pinned the critter down with one hand, charging an ecto-blast in the other. He pressed the charged ball of energy against the chest of the small animal and released it, obliterating the core of the ghost. Afterwards, he dutifully sucked up the remaining ectoplasm, dumped it into the Ghost Zone, and promptly forgot about it, never stopping to think about what, exactly, he had done.

The quiet voice continued to encourage him to destroy ghosts (although it never actually said anything along those lines, only that he was taking care of problems in a more permanent way), and so Danny continued to obliterate any non-sentient ghosts that crossed him.

It was only a matter of time before someone spotted Phantom doing so, and word quickly spread. Within the hour, everyone in Amity seemed to know about Phantom destroying other ghosts, and everyone had their own opinion about the matter. Some were glad to see that bothersome ghosts would never return, others thought that Phantom had gone too far, and others still thought that this was the start of a slippery slope, a clear tell that Phantom wasn’t the well-behaved ghost he pretended to be.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were upset, of course. They knew that Danny had been patrolling without them more and more, and they suspected that he was doing so to hide his violence from them, but they never thought it would be this bad.

They demanded to know why he would do this, but he couldn’t tell them. He didn’t want to tell them about the quiet little voice that encouraged him, and it’s not like he did any real harm. The ecto-animals he destroyed were barely sentient, and did little more than cause trouble. The world was better off without them.

Their protests that people said that about most ghosts, including himself, were ignored.

Their attempts to follow him on patrols went unheeded as well, as they were easy to lose, and he made sure to restrain himself when they were around.

The reality of what he had been doing still didn’t hit Danny when he destroyed a humanoid ghost for the first time.

Amity Park had grown quieter. The animal ghosts avoided the city, and even the more intelligent ghosts had started to shy away. Instead of enjoying the peace, Danny grew restless and paranoid, and the voice was quick to strike. It started to encourage him to act pro-actively in his defense of the city, instead of waiting for trouble to come.

As Danny pondered how to achieve this, the voice started pointing him in the direction of ghosts who posed a threat to him, ghosts who might endanger his loved ones.

It was an obvious choice. There were many ghosts who endangered the city, but there was only a single ghost who posed such a clear threat to Danny’s family and friends.

And so Danny left for the Ghost Zone, finding his way to Clockwork’s tower with surprising ease.

The Fenton Thermos sat on a table, unattended.

Danny removed the empty Thermos that he wore on his back, and replaced it with the Thermos that contained his future self.

On his way out, he glanced at the screens that Clockwork used to view the timeline. He saw familiar imagery of his evil future self destroying Amity Park, and took it as silent encouragement from Clockwork.

He left the tower, and left the empty Thermos.

Actually destroying his future self was easier said than done, however. He knew he couldn’t win in a direct battle, and he didn’t want to risk the full ghost escaping.

His parents’ inventions provided the solution for his troubles. He managed to find a cage strong enough to hold the evil Phantom, and the questionably-named Ecto-Stoppo-Power-Erfier would then be used to strip the ghost of his powers. After that, destroying him was easy, especially when he remembered everything the ghost had done.

Danny still didn’t think about what he had done. The voice continued to whisper its approval to him, telling him that the full ghost had it coming, that he deserved it.

The voice continued to encourage Danny’s violence, and Danny continued to listen obediently. He grew sullen and withdrawn, with a short fuse and vicious when angered. Mr. Lancer and his parents grew concerned as well, and his sister, Sam, and Tucker hovered around him almost constantly.

They tried to help, in their own ways, but their words were almost incomprehensible to him. The voice, which had steadily grown louder, drowned them out with ease.

They were worried about him, he could tell, but nothing he did seemed to calm them down. He wanted to help them, his friends, his sister, his parents, and his teacher, but he didn’t know how.

Luckily, the voice knew.

And, just like before, Danny obeyed.

Suddenly, the voice grew quiet, and for the first time in who-knows how long, Danny had only his own thoughts to keep him company.

He couldn’t really remember what he had been doing. He knew that Jazz, and Sam and Tucker, and his parents, and even Mr. Lancer had been worried about him. He had wanted to help them, he remembered, but he hadn’t known how.

He knew he had helped them. He just couldn’t remember what he had done to achieve this.

It was then that he started to take in where he was. He didn’t recognize the area, as it had turned unrecognizable by some sort of great violence. There was debris littered around everywhere, and fire as well. The streets had emptied out, with no one around.

Had a ghost attacked? Were his loved ones safe?

He made to take off, and saw his gloves as he raised his clenched fists.

His gloves, which had once been white, were heavily stained with something red.

He looked at his hands, slowly opening and closing them. The red which stained them glittered, liquid moving as the gloves underneath shifted.

He knew it was blood, but he wasn’t sure how he knew. He wanted to blame the (not so) little voice, but it remained silent.

Suddenly remembering the situation, he shoved away his concerns about the blood on his gloves, and whirled around to inspect the area. He saw something moving from the corner of his vision and almost blasted it, but closer inspection showed that he had seen himself reflected in a shattered window.

He was about to laugh at himself for his own stupidity, but something felt off about his reflection, stopping him. Danny drifted closer to the window, and looked at himself.

Ruby red eyes looked back.

His skin was stained by soot, but the color seemed off. Automatically, Danny reached up to wipe some of it off. The skin underneath was discolored, a strange blue rather than his normal tan.

He closed his eyes, refusing to accept what he saw. He turned around, eyes still closed, and tried to force it out of his mind.

Something tickled the back of his neck, a welcome distraction. Until he realized that the tickling was his own hair, and he could feel it flickering like fire. Dread washed over him, heavy and cold.

Opening his eyes again, he pulled down a lock of his hair to inspect. Just as he had feared, it continued to wisp in his hand, despite the lack of wind.

Releasing it again, Danny turned back to look at his reflection. He nervously licked his lips, and shivered as he felt (and saw) a narrow snake-like tongue instead of his normal tongue. He grimaced, and saw the light glint off of his fangs.

“No...” he whispered, but suddenly he knew.

The voice, which had haunted him for months, steadily increasing in volume, didn’t just sound familiar because it was his mind’s voice. It had sounded familiar because it was his voice, the voice of his future self.

“No,” he repeated, stronger, and he whirled around to search the area around him.

His eye was suddenly drawn towards a bright sign in the rubble, and he instantly recognized it, despite the damage done to it. It had once read “Nasty Burger”, but most of the letters had been burned or blown off.

He glanced around himself, still looking for his loved ones, but he knew he wouldn’t find them. Not alive, at least.

He halted, inhaled sharply, and then turned back to his house. He had to speak with Clockwork.

He had to fix this, somehow.

But Clockwork didn’t show himself. The tower was as empty as the last time, and the screens still displayed the same imagery. Danny found himself watching them, and slowly realized that he had misjudged their purpose during his last visit.

They weren’t quiet encouragement from Clockwork to destroy his future self. They were a warning of the path he had taken.

He hadn’t listened.

Clockwork couldn’t change the past, he could only steer the future. And Danny hadn’t followed the correction, had instead followed the voice of his future self.

And so Clockwork could do nothing to help him, or his loved ones.

He ruefully thought to himself that this future was inevitable, after all.

#danny phantom #ectoberweek18 #ectober 2018 #dark writes #dan phantom #danny fenton #honestly not as dark or graphic as i was aiming for #and not nearly as emotionally-heavy either #but there's only so much i can do in a short span of time and with virtually no writing experience so i'm pretty happy with it #excited for tomorrows fic too! even if it likely won't do well because it's a part two to disappearance #phanfiction #angst

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dandystones · 5 years

Text

Yes means no.

***There are two parts to this long ass post because I didn't realise I had so much to say oops***

Setting boundaries, I recently learnt I've been terrible at that for most of my life.

I hate when people tell me what to do, to the point I'd do the exact opposite, but I always wanted validation. I sought it from everyone and their mothers because I never got it from myself.

The internet seems to talk a big game about how the universe will keep on sending you lessons in all it's glorious forms if we don't pick up on it; like how we always encounter the same toxic people and relationships, one after another.

It's funny when I recall them now.

***PART 1***

I like to think I've been very blessed when it came to friendship. All through my life, I've always felt that I made friends easily and had plenty of platonic support. However at different stages of my life, I've also noticed that despite all the good friends I surrounded myself with, I've always had that one person in my life who was just a little too self absorbed, borderline narcisstic and treaded way too close for comfort.

For reference, I'm going to list some people but not their whole names: my mum >> X >> O >> H >> C

The most coincidental thing I've come to realise is 1) that each person had a specific time in my life where they rose to prominence, or in other words, where they suffocated me the most 2) the end of each 'stage of prominence' was the start of the next. For example, when I thought I'd finally stepped out of my mum's narcissistic shadow, X stepped and morphed into that narcisstic figure until I'd decided it was time to cut ties. Around the same time, I met O and she slowly morphed into that person.

Continously, I realise I've always had that one presence in my life and each person would stay for many years until a breaking point, after which I would draw the line and keep my distance. As a rough estimate, I took about 25 years to understand that this exhausting cycle of going through toxic loved one after another is simply a lesson of setting boundaries.

I came to this realization in the past 6-12 months because I was having a particular hard time adjusting at work and it was really tough to master the art of stakeholder management. I won't say I'm an expert now, but I've gotten much better at putting my foot down and helping people to understand how their basic (read: brainless) actions are making my job unnecessarily difficult and defying my work ethics. I started to understand the importance of setting my own boundaries because we can never assume anyone would know them if we don't speak it.

Around the same time, I noticed the last person in this cycle, C had started to transition out of her role as the narcisstic shadow in my life entirely on her own. I've never had that happen to me without having to ruthlessly cut ties before. It's like something just clicked. On hindsight, the lesson just made sense and perhaps because I understand what it is now, there was no longer a need for the lesson to remain.

I always thought I was good at saying no to people, because I didn't care what they think which is true for the most part, I don't care what strangers think. What I came to realise about myself was that I needed help saying no to non strangers, people I care about, the people I need in my life.

***PART 2***

The word 'no' carried too much grief and associated history with abuse and neglect. My parents never made it easy for me growing up; affection was a competition between myself and both my younger sisters. My father could never find balance at work, so he overcompensated by trying to take control of everything at home. Nothing I said nor did could ever please him, he was always angry about the tiniest thing.

Everything was someone else's fault; between denying me any help with school work because I didn't go to a school of his choice and completely beating my self esteem down because I dare ask him for any help to a seemingly insignificant act like him accidentally stepping on my toes at the supermarket, he would twist and mold all my words until they made him looked like a hero in his own fantasy, that I was beneath him, and that everything bad that happened in his life was my fault and no one else's.

You couldn't fight him with reason even if you tried to, because he wasn't fighting for anything, he just wanted to win and he would say anything to wear you down. Every night would end in the same way, a disgustingly heated verbal mess between him, myself and my mom; abuse of any kind is simply the cheap power you get when you destroy people for the sake of your ego.

My mum was completely helpless in that regard, she stayed the hell out of his way whenever he had an outburst, even if it meant leaving me to fend for myself. I refused to back down from the injustice and his words dug its claws deeper in my gut, every quarrel we had made me sick with anger because no matter how hard I tried to defend myself, every takeaway was how each of his mistakes were the result of my failures even if it had nothing to do with it.

This went on for years. I knew I couldn't run away because I was underage, financially unstable and still needed a roof above my head. I felt absolutely helpless and remember crying myself to sleep all the time, praying to God to take me away - away from here, away from being the family's punching bag, away to another universe where parents actually protected their children, built them up and supported them.

Growing up in an environment where your survival thrived from avoiding all the stressors that could result in rage meant that I became extremely cautious in expressing my needs and opinions out of a fear of of displeasing my parents. Every subsequent outburst was a slap in the face, a painful reminder of how abandoned and unsupported I was in this family.

This led to a series of bad behaviors where I was desperate to please and longed for a life devoid of rejection. For the parts of myself who had endured so much neglect, I just couldn't bare the same devastation over again. Putting myself second and others first was easy as long as they were happy. I had this belief that if I accidently let myself be honest, people wouldn't accept me and I couldn't risk letting my guard down again.

Over time, I started saying yes to everything I wanted to say no to. Yes means no, no came with a '... but I'll do this for you instead' to overcompensate my fear. Slowly but surely, I became exhausted from pleasing people all the time. I said yes to social events I didn't care to be at, I patiently listened to every word of every person who needed me even if they didn't care to be there for me, I helped every toxic person who saw an opportunity to exploit my time and kindness. Without realizing, I was unnecessarily deriving a form of validation from being a yes-girl, I didn't know how to say no. Beyond that I'd lost my sense of self because I didn't know if anyone would care about me if I stopped doing all these things.

This obviously manifested in many unhealthy coping mechanisms and constantly wanting to be alone because I felt that everyone around me wanted something from me I couldn't give. It became a toxic cycle of self harm, feeling absolutely hopeless and finding sick joy in dreaming about the many different ways to end my life. At age 17, I've never felt more alone.

Ive had to see a counsellor for prolonged periods of my life and thisemotional abuse was one of the key moments that contributed to it.

Recovery was one hella of a slippery slope and had relapsed so many times I've lost count. I was convinced my abuse had rewired my body's ability to understand what love was, all I felt was the fire of resentment, burning my insides with the anxiety of having to live out the rest of my life in a bubble of 'my mistakes'.

Through my counsellor, we had to un-learnt the act of being too harsh of myself, as a result of the years I spent projecting my dad's expectations on myself. Rewiring your brain to calm itself down when you're triggered is difficult but not impossible. There were many scenarios where I became aware of the fact that the voice in my head mimicked my dad's in giving all but bone crushing criticism, guilt tripping my every move and spiralling myself into depression again.

Re-learning the notion of 'giving myself to others' whilst being 'unapologetically myself' was interesting and refreshing. Mostly, my subconscious got better at unlearning the act of constantly censoring myself for the sake of others; how to live freely & become a more honest version of myself regardless of the people around me. Not in any manner that might be of harm to others though, just in a way that allows me to stop relying on other people’s validation to keep my spirits lifted.

Every relapse back then sunk me into my depression, harder. Looking back now, I'm glad I didn't give up even though the chance was present and tempting every step of the way. Everyday still feels like a challenge, but I get it now when people say it gets easier

#wfth #getting stronger

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dfroza · 4 years

Text

Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for Thursday, december 3 of 2020 with Proverbs 3 and Psalm 3, accompanied by Psalm 73 for the 73rd day of Autumn, and Psalm 38 for day 338 of the year (now with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 3rd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 3]

My child, if you truly want a long and satisfying life,

never forget the things that I’ve taught you.

Follow closely every truth that I’ve given you.

Then you will have a full, rewarding life.

Hold on to loyal love and don’t let go,

and be faithful to all that you’ve been taught.

Let your life be shaped by integrity,

with truth written upon your heart.

That’s how you will find favor and understanding

with both God and men—

you will gain the reputation of living life well.

[Wisdom’s Guidance]

Trust in the Lord completely,

and do not rely on your own opinions.

With all your heart rely on him to guide you,

and he will lead you in every decision you make.

Become intimate with him in whatever you do,

and he will lead you wherever you go.

Don’t think for a moment that you know it all,

for wisdom comes when you adore him with undivided devotion

and avoid everything that’s wrong.

Then you will find the healing refreshment

your body and spirit long for.

Glorify God with all your wealth,

honoring him with your very best,

with every increase that comes to you.

Then every dimension of your life will overflow with blessings

from an uncontainable source of inner joy!

[Wisdom’s Correction]

My child, when the Lord God speaks to you,

never take his words lightly,

and never be upset when he corrects you.

For the Father’s discipline comes only

from his passionate love and pleasure for you.

Even when it seems like his correction is harsh,

it’s still better than any father on earth gives to his child.

Those who find true wisdom obtain the tools for understanding,

the proper way to live,

for they will have a fountain of blessing pouring into their lives.

To gain the riches of wisdom is far greater

than gaining the wealth of the world.

As wisdom increases, a great treasure is imparted,

greater than many bars of refined gold.

It is a more valuable commodity than gold and gemstones,

for there is nothing you desire that could compare to her.

Wisdom extends to you long life in one hand

and wealth and promotion in the other.

Out of her mouth flows righteousness,

and her words release both law and mercy.

The ways of wisdom are sweet,

always drawing you into the place of wholeness.

Seeking for her brings the discovery of untold blessings,

for she is the healing tree of life to those who taste her fruits.

[Wisdom’s Blueprints]

The Lord laid the earth’s foundations with wisdom’s blueprints.

By his living-understanding all the universe came into being.

By his divine revelation he broke open

the hidden fountains of the deep,

bringing secret springs to the surface

as the mist of the night dripped down from heaven.

[Wisdom, Our Hiding Place]

My child, never drift off course from these two goals for your life:

to walk in wisdom and to discover discernment.

Don’t ever forget how they empower you.

For they strengthen you inside and out

and inspire you to do what’s right;

you will be energized and refreshed by the healing they bring.

They give you living hope to guide you,

and not one of life’s tests will cause you to stumble.

You will sleep like a baby, safe and sound—

your rest will be sweet and secure.

You will not be subject to terror, for it will not terrify you.

Nor will the disrespectful be able to push you aside,

because God is your confidence in times of crisis,

keeping your heart at rest in every situation.

[Wisdom in Relationships]

Why would you withhold payment on your debt

when you have the ability to pay? Just do it!

When your friend comes to ask you for a favor,

why would you say, “Perhaps tomorrow,”

when you have the money right there in your pocket?

Help him today!

Why would you hold a grudge in your heart

toward your neighbor who lives right next door?

And why would you quarrel with those

who have done nothing wrong to you?

Is that a chip on your shoulder?

Don’t act like those bullies or learn their ways.

Every violent thug is despised by the Lord,

but every tender lover finds friendship with God

and will hear his intimate secrets.

The wicked walk under God’s constant curse,

but godly lovers walk under a stream of his blessing,

for they seek to do what is right.

If you walk with the mockers you will learn to mock,

but God’s grace and favor flow to the meek.

Stubborn fools fill their lives with disgrace,

but glory and honor rest upon the wise.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 3 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 3]

A song of David composed while fleeing from his son Absalom.

Eternal One, my adversaries are many, too many to count.

Now they have taken a stand against me!

Right to my face they say,

“God will not save you!”

[pause]

But You, Eternal One, wrap around me like an impenetrable shield.

You give me glory and lift my eyes up to the heavens.

I lift my voice to You, Eternal One,

and You answer me from Your sacred heights.

[pause]

I lie down at night and fall asleep.

I awake in the morning—healthy, strong, vibrant—because the Eternal supports me.

No longer will I fear my tens of thousands of enemies

who have surrounded me!

Rise up, O Eternal One!

Rescue me, O God!

For You have dealt my enemies a strong blow to the jaw!

You have shattered their teeth! Do so again.

Liberation truly comes from the Eternal.

Let Your blessings shower down upon Your people.

[pause]

The Book of Psalms, Poem 3 (The Voice)

Book Three

[Psalm 73]

A song of Asaph.

Truly God is good to His people, Israel,

to those with pure hearts.

Though I know this is true, I almost lost my footing;

yes, my steps were on slippery ground.

You see, there was a time when I envied arrogant men

and thought, “The wicked look pretty happy to me.”

For they seem to live carefree lives, free of suffering;

their bodies are strong and healthy.

They don’t know trouble as we do;

they are not plagued with problems as the rest of us are.

They’ve got pearls of pride strung around their necks;

they clothe their bodies with violence.

They have so much more than enough.

Their eyes bulge because they are so fat with possessions.

They have more than their hearts could have ever imagined.

There is nothing sacred, and no one is safe.

Vicious sarcasm drips from their lips;

they bully and threaten to crush their enemies.

They even mock God as if He were not above;

their arrogant tongues boast throughout the earth; they feel invincible.

Even God’s people turn and are carried away by them;

they watch and listen, yet find no fault in them.

You will hear them say, “How can the True God possibly know anyway? He’s not even here.

So how can the Most High have any knowledge of what happens here?”

Let me tell you what I know about the wicked:

they are comfortably at rest while their wealth is growing and growing.

Oh, let this not be me! It seems I have scrubbed my heart to keep it clean

and washed my hands in innocence.

And for what? Nothing.

For all day long, I am being punished,

each day awakening to stern chastisement.

If I had said to others these kinds of things about the plight of God’s good people,

then I know I would have betrayed the next generation.

Trying to solve this mystery on my own exhausted me;

I couldn’t bear to look at it any further.

So I took my questions to the True God,

and in His sanctuary I realized something so chilling and final: their lives have a deadly end.

Because You have certainly set the wicked upon a slippery slope,

You’ve set them up to slide to their destruction.

And they won’t see it coming. It will happen so fast:

first, a flash of terror, and then desolation.

It is like a dream from which someone awakes.

You will wake up, Lord, and loathe what has become of them.

You see, my heart overflowed with bitterness and cynicism;

I felt as if someone stabbed me in the back.

But I didn’t know the truth;

I have been acting like a stupid animal toward You.

But look at this: You are still holding my right hand;

You have been all along.

Even though I was angry and hard-hearted, You gave me good advice;

when it’s all over, You will receive me into Your glory.

For all my wanting, I don’t have anyone but You in heaven.

There is nothing on earth that I desire other than You.

I admit how broken I am in body and spirit,

but God is my strength, and He will be mine forever.

It will happen: whoever shuns You will be silenced forever;

You will bring an end to all who refuse to be true to You.

But the closer I am to You, my God, the better because life with You is good.

O Lord, the Eternal, You keep me safe—

I will tell everyone what You have done.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 73 (The Voice)

[Psalm 38]

A song of David for remembering.

O Eternal One, please do not scold me in Your anger;

though Your wrath is just, do not correct me in Your fury.

The arrows from Your bow have penetrated my flesh;

Your hand has come down hard on me.

Because Your anger has infected the depths of my being and stolen my health,

my flesh is ill.

My bones are no longer sound

because of all the sins I have committed.

My guilt has covered me; it’s more than I can handle;

this burden is too heavy for me to carry.

Now sores cover me—infected and putrid sores,

because of all the foolish things I have done.

I am bent down, cowering in fear, prostrate on the ground;

I spend the day in mourning, guilty tears stinging and burning my eyes.

My back aches. I’m full of fever;

my body is no longer whole, no longer well.

I am completely numb, totally spent, hopelessly crushed.

The agitation of my heart makes me groan.

O Lord, You know all my desires;

nothing escapes You; You hear my every moan.

My heart pounds against my chest; my vigor is completely drained;

my eyes were once bright, but now the brightness is all gone.

Even my friends and loved ones turn away when they see this marked man;

those closest to me are no longer close at all.

Those who want me dead lay traps upon my path;

those who desire my downfall threaten—my end is near—

they spend their days plotting against me.

Like one who is deaf, my ears do not hear.

Like one who is mute, my tongue cannot speak.

The truth is this: I am like one who cannot hear;

I cannot even protest against them.

Still I wait expectantly for You, O Eternal One—

knowing You will answer me in some way, O Lord, my True God.

I only asked, “When I stumble on the narrow path,

don’t let them boast or celebrate my failure.”

I am prepared for what may come; my time must be short;

my pain and suffering a constant companion.

I confess, “I have sinned,”

and I regret the wrong I have done.

My enemies are alive and well,

they are powerful and on the increase,

and for no reason, they hate me.

When I do good, my opponents reward me with evil;

though I pursue what is right, they stand against me.

Eternal One, do not leave me to their mercy;

my True God, don’t be far from me when they are near.

I need Your help now—not later.

O Lord, be my Rescuer.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 38 (The Voice)

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