into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.
the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the other.
for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.
the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.
but they were never whole to begin with, were they?
qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.
olly says nothing.
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I honestly wonder if Ty is going to get people acting in the same “soft baby sadboi who is ILLEGAL to hurt in even the most slapstick of slapstick ways, who should never face the consequences of his actions ever, who can do no wrong” way they did was Louie, simply because he has a sad backstory.
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 217
Adjective: Earthy
Noun: Lung
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Earthy: resembling or suggestive of earth or soil; (of a person or their language) direct and uninhibited, especially about sexual subjects or bodily functions
Lung: each of the pair of organs situated within the rib cage, consisting of elastic sacs with branching passages into which air is drawn, so that oxygen can pass into the blood and carbon dioxide be removed, and lungs are characteristic of vertebrates other than fish, though similar structures are present in some other animal groups; an open space in a town or city, where people can breathe fresher air
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‘What are your plans?’ Jocelyn makes a vague gesture. ‘Do you have somewhere to stay? You’re an Assassin, so I presume you are able to procure employment.’
‘Oh, right,’ Downey accepts the brandy. Amber liquid catching in amber light. He thinks that for all his reptilian nature, Jocelyn is remarkably handsome. Calm, too. Cool. A glacier. Downey feels as if spring melt-water were washing over him reminding him that there is an earth and ground and water beneath that ground and he should perhaps plant his feet on still soil upon occasion. ‘I’ve a room at the Guild, and yes there’s some employment. Teaching,’ he pulls a preemptive face, in case Jocelyn should sneer at the lowliness of it. ‘Though I don’t have my first class for another few weeks.’
‘Honourable profession,’ Jocelyn replies. ‘But one you’ll need to keep your nose clean for or you’ll lose it faster than you can blink.’
‘I know,’ Downey scowls. ‘I’m not entirely stupid. Though I find it repugnant that I am expected to follow laws and strictures that I do not think worthy of my adherence. Rules are only to be followed so long as they serve as a means to an end.’ He pauses to sip the brandy which is, when he goes to the bottle, thirty years old. Gods, Jocelyn doesn’t shirk on the pleasures in life. Downey admires this in him. ‘Indeed, I’m rather convinced that no one became a great assassin by always obeying the rules���our own of the Guild or laws more broadly. On the other hand, no one ever became a great assassin by disobeying rules and getting caught.’
‘An admirable, if somewhat dubious mindset.’
Downey out here with the morals of an alley-cat. Granted, Downey’s rebound Jocelyn can hardly speak.
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you know, the hurricane magnitude scale only goes from categories 1 - 5 based on wind speed, meanwhile the richter* magnitude scale goes from 1 - 9+ on a logarithmic scale
and my point is. i’ve been through CAT5 tummy events before but i’m starting to think this one’s more of a richter 7. maybe more
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