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*sound of mad cackling laughter* The work shift is done! DoBbY iS fReE!
*clears throat and fixes the cuffs of my sleeves as I also resituate my glasses before dramatically twirling my hand* Now on to the commentary! š
My reaction to this piece got me no joke like
The lines that made me specifically go oof:
šš¼āAnd Raph making one last stand so that they can move.
His hands shake. The table is upended. Something, a noise perhaps, is ripped out of his throat before something smashes into a wall, and words, for once, tumble out of his mouth.
"YOU DIDN'T LISTEN!" > aaaaaaaa I feel the RAGE the desperation in this like woooooo doggie. I FEEL this for this hits way to close to home when in come to the mental turmoil of feelings. I literally mentally flip tables on the daily so this was catharsis to read, so Iām right there with Donnie.
Sophia, maāam, how dare you. The audacity to make me relate. *SCOFF*
šš¼āIt's all his fault. And he can't fix it.
ā¦ But maybeā¦ā > NGL I had a surge of hope that Donnie had some crazy idea to bring you back, one way he could in fact fix this because my rescuer complex/ recovering perfectionist is right there with him scrambling to find a way to fix it, to make it better, to make the hurt stop.
šš¼āAt least his death will be worth something.ā
Baby. Honey. Sweetheart. No. Justā¦no. Iām writing this right after meeting with my counselor rn, so emotions are a bit high myself, but this hit harder than Iām willing to admit and so Iām hugging Donnie with my heart, NAY my entire soul. No, Donnie, your life means something NOW. Please donāt end it. Ashes donāt keep anybody warm.
One-shot, Character death mention, Angst, Rise Donnie, Apocalypse Timeline
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There are good days. The days he can concentrate. Try to figure out the next step and maybe, just maybe, how to win this devastating war. The days where he can almost manage to claim back who he was as he sits in his lab and works at incredible speeds.
There are bad days. The ones where he can barely get up in the morning. Ones where he can barely step into his lab before collapsing. The days when it hurts so bad, the two brothers he has left have to contain him.
Thenā¦ there are the days like today. The ones that start good, but quickly veer for the worst. The ones that make him think that everything will be fine before something, something justā¦ breaks him. Breaks him and makes him feel insane.
He can't blame anyone when it happens, either. He just can't. Everyone is simply trying to get on with their lives, trying to make the base function as efficiently as possible. But sometimesā¦ sometimes it just gets to him.
"Whatā¦?"
"Oh! Uncle 'Tello! Sorry for the mess."
Just like now.
He's not your child. Cassandra Jones Junior might have been born the day you were wiped from the face of the face of the earth, but he's not your child.
And yet, yetā¦ with the way he's just starting to fill that chair. With the way he's behaving and the way his brother is raising him, he's starting to have trouble believing it.
"There was just so mu ā"
"Out."
"ā¦ Uncle 'Tello?"
"I said out, Jones!"
Maybe he should get rid of that damn chair. Maybe he should just get rid of his entire monitoring set-up. Maybeā¦ Maybeā¦
ā¦ It's going to be an awful day.
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