Iorhaelwen

(alternatively titled Reaper-cussions, should you be the sort of person who enjoys puns) A/N: Mass Effect and Mass Effect 2 spoilers, ahoy! Garrus Vakarian had studied his Commanding Officer's mannerisms for long enough to know when she was hiding something from the rest of the crew, and this time was no exception. Shepard oversaw initial repairs to the Normandy SR-2 with the same vigilance and attention to detail he'd expect of a C-Sec officer conducting an investigation, and carried on conversations with the few surviving crewmembers with the charisma and confidence of any great military leader, but her body language betrayed a simmering

locked inside a heart-shaped box on a shelf, collecting dust dangerous to even touch lest it melt within your clutch a testament to normalcy evidence of recovery a study in cognitive dissonance and distortion of reality trapped inside a heart-shaped tomb all the sordid facts consumed disconnected from the past every detail, to the last a testament to normalcy evidence of recovery an exercise in wilful ignorance and distortion of reality buried in this heart-shaped hole the things that haunt your wretched soul the shit you're too afraid to own lest it prove too hard to bear a testament to normalcy evidence of recovery a m

'Flashbacks may consist of images, sounds, smells, or feelings, and are often triggered by ordinary occurrences, such as a door slamming or a car backfiring on the street. A person having a flashback may lose touch with reality and believe that the traumatic incident is happening all over again.' -National Institute of Mental Health Her name was Becky, unless it was Belinda. She was a chubby girl of mixed descent with a smile wider than her girth, if that was possible. It was that cheerful sunbeam in the hurricane that was then my life that convinced me to talk to her, though it helped that she bounced over in my direction as my paperwork w

I cannot do submission Won't wait for your permission So create your own rendition Of this perfect tragedy I know you think I'm lying, But frankly, you're denying All this time I have been trying Not to think about myself My dear, if I had waited, Would I have been less hated? Trust me, long I have debated And to this conclusion come: The mourning time has ended Raise your chin and become mended Your time's overextended And I can't wait any more.

Fearful suggestions Alarming digressions You're twisting my thoughts till they fall to their knees Ill revelation That spinning sensation I'll end this distraught, so you'd have me believe But I can't keep living afraid to see If there could be something more for me Miss Paranoia, you won't have your way Miss Paranoia, I can't let you stay Miss Paranoia, I won't be your prey I'm taking the plunge despite all you say Finally my show Too late to turn back so I'll stand in his spotlight and bask in its shine I'm dancing with zest To this we can attest: It's been too long coming for me to decline And I won't keep living afraid t

Did you think it was okay Just to throw it all away? Did you think I couldn't tell? Did you think I'd not rebel? Did you bid my trust adieu, And with it, run us through? Can you think all on your own, Or are you just another drone? Did you think by going down on them you'd be saved from their despise? Did you not think you'd be next to struggle in their web of lies? Did you think I'd not denounce you when you bent to every whim? I once knew someone stronger; tell me, what became of him? Was it only in my mind? Did my devotion leave me blind? Perhaps you never really cared And I was just a piece of flair No, you just cannot def