#fucking hell what trauma have I signed myself up for here

[punkminyardd]

i finished tsc tonight and my god how do i want to read it again a million times while simultaneously wanting to unread everything i just read????????

[theconstantsidekick]

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (9) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Angst city babyyyy

Summary: Zemo has a revelation in store for the Stark siblings, and suffice it to say neither of them takes very kindly to being betrayed by someone they had once trusted with their life.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma, Canon Typical Violence, Accident?

a/n: My writing speed is that of a fucking turtle.

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (8) | Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (10) | Series Masterlist | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

“Ross has no idea I'm here. I'd like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself,” she hears Tony’s voice ring out somewhere ahead.

“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork,” she can hear Steve’s desperation for truce in his response. 

Y/n can glitch in right now. She’s at the end of the corridor, a couple of steps and she’ll be with them. But not yet. She’s desperate for there to be a solid sign of the truce. She isn’t sure she can watch her brother and the man she loves with her body and soul fight any more. It’s been tearing her apart. 

The truce—even a temporary one—is all she can hope for. And apparently good things come to those who wait.

“It's good to see you, Tony.” Steve adds finally.

“You too, Cap.” Tony responds. A smile breaks out on her face. “Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop the…” she hears Tony say and she knows that is the right moment.

Sergeant Barnes lowers his weapon and the moment he does, she miscalculates by an inch and glitches in just behind him.

“Am I interrupting something?”

The progression of Sergeant Barnes’ gun changes instantly. It’s aimed at her within the second. The response time on the man is beyond absurd. She’d go as far as to say it’s impressive if she weren’t, you know? Whatever, you get it.

Her hands fly up. “Easy there, Sergeant!”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony asks from where he’s standing down the stairs, in front of Steve.

Slowly, with her hands still up, she descends down the stairs to stand between the two most important men in her life. “What the fuck does that even mean? You thought I was going to leave you two alone after the shit you’ve been pulling in the last 72 hours?”

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Steve adds, with a hint of hope in his words. If she were looking his way, she’s sure she could spot the curve of his lips forming the most subtle smile. She absolutely loves seeing that smile… but she doesn’t really wanna look his way, in the general direction of the man right behind Steve.

“I wish I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have a gun pointed at me,” she retorts, eyes straight ahead, staring at the slimy gray walls of the HYDRA facility.

“Are you—” Tony takes a step closer to her, “Are you trying not to make eye-contact with Barnes?”

Her hands are still up as she’s facing Tony, “Yeah, no. I’m trying not to even look in his general direction. I’m still pretty scared of him.” She turns to the Sergeant but her eyes are locked on a spot on the floor that seems particularly interesting right now. “I’m extremely sorry, Sergeant Barnes, I mean no offense by this,” she looks to Steve, “but can you please make him put the gun down, it’s really not helping.”

“Bucky,” is all Steve has to say and instantly the gun’s down. It’s like whatever trance the Sergeant was in has broken. .

“I really am sorry,” she tries to tell him, looking vaguely in his direction. “It’s purely instinctual. It’ll fade… eventually. But for now…”

“I—” Sergeant Barnes tries but she cuts him off.

“We’ll talk about this, but not here and definitely not now.” Sergeant Barnes just nods slowly. Satisfied, she looks back at her brother and her boyfriend, “Let’s focus on stopping Zemo for now, rest we can figure out when time comes.”

With that sorted, all four of them begin making their way slowly down the corridor.

“I got heat signatures,” Tony comments.

“How many?” Steve asks.

“Uh, one,” Tony offers after a moment of consideration.

That makes Y/n halt her steps. Something’s off. She can feel something off. There’s a presence she can’t put her finger on. Not Zemo. Something else.

“What’s wrong?” Sergeant Barnes asks her.

She thinks it over for a second and then, “Nothing.”

As they walk into the vast chamber the lights come on. There are capsules in front of them, attached to the wall each one containing an enhanced soldier from the 1991 experiments. Hazy, yellow mist descends within the capsules. However, the bullet holes on the glass enclosures is what scares the shit out of her.

“They’re… They’re dead,” Y/n notes.

There’s a short crackle and a voice sounds out from the speakers. “If it’s any comfort, they died in their sleep.” It’s Zemo. Her eyes fly from Tony to Steve who seem to be having the same realization. “Did you really think I wanted more of you?”

“What the hell?” Sergeant Barnes questions under her breath.

“I’m grateful to them, though. They brought you here.” Zemo appears in a control room.

Before Y/n can warn him against it, Steve hurls his shield at him but it ricochets easily against the chamber and comes flying back to Steve. 

“Please, Captain,” Zemo’s voice is laced with a smirk. “The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

“I’m betting I could beat that,” Tony retorts, walking closer.

“Oh, I’m sure you could Mr. Stark… Given time,” Zemo taunts. “But then you’d never know why you came.”

“You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” Steve questions Zemo from across the glass window of the chamber.

Zemo, fucking, smirks.

It should terrify her, and to some extent it does. But there’s something in his eyes, something so familiar to her that she can’t believe she’s seeing it reflected back. She’s seen that look in her own eyes in the mirror for decades.

It’s fire. It’s fire and it’s rage and it’s as personal as it can get.

“I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you’re standing here, I just realized… there’s a bit of green in the blue of your eyes,” Zemo notes, and fuck if that doesn’t creep the shit out of her. “How nice to find a flaw.”

“You’re Sokovian,” Steve notes. “Is that what this is about?”

“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No.” Zemo dismisses the assessment so easily, so carelessly, it’s making all the damn alarm bells go off in her system. “I'm here because I made a promise.”

Steve studies Zemo for a second and then,, “You lost someone?” 

His eyes darken.

Y/n knows that feeling, this feeling. She knows it through and through.

Zemo clicks his tongue, then, “I lose everyone. And so will you.” He presses something on the console to his right. Instantly the computer on Steve’s right lights up. Something flashes on screen, Y/n can’t help herself, getting more curious by every passing word of the conversation, she walks over to Steve, to the computer. 

16 Декабрь 1991

She… she’s not sure how to…

What’s happening?

This isn’t—this isn’t…

“An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within? That’s dead…” Zemo’s words are dangerous.

“Anthony,” is all that Y/n can choke out. It’s probably her tone, and the use of his full name that brings Tony rushing over to her side.

She reaches for his hand. Instinctually, Tony disassembles his armor from his hand so he can hold hers.

When Tony looks at the freeze frame of a secluded road and the date on the tape, December 16 1991, his eyes rove with anxiety. “I know that road. What is this?”

As the tape begins to play, the horror unfolds in front of her eyes. She watches unable to breathe with an iron grip on the Iron Man. 

She watches the car crash, she watches Howard Stark plead only to be shocked at the face of his assailant. She watches as her bloodied-up best friend, the person who saved her, the person who gave her a home—the person who gave her a family—is struck in the head with a metal arm. She watches on as Howard’s body slumps, falling to the ground lifelessly. His corpse is then dragged back and placed in the driver’s seat of the car.

Then the assailant moves on to the next target, the collateral damage, Maria. He walks over to the passenger seat of the car where Maria is calling for Howard. She watches Maria plead for help but help doesn’t arrive. Instead, expressionless, the assailant chokes the life out of her. Maria Stark dies. The kindest woman she’s ever known in her life is drained of her life and left like trash at the corner of an unnamed road.

The Winter Soldier then walks up and aims the gun at the surveillance camera and shoots it.

The screen goes black.

Y/n had some semblance of an idea that perhaps yes, Howard and Maria Stark’s death wasn’t an ordinary accident. She’d desperately begged Peggy to look into it, with Thompson and Souza. They had and gave it the all clear.

But in this moment, she thinks—she realizes, perhaps she always knew the truth and was too afraid to look into it. Because if not then, why didn’t she investigate it herself? Back then she’d given herself the excuse that Tony needed her more than the investigation. She’d told herself that she’d be too biased to conduct a sound inquiry. Her feelings would’ve gotten the entire thing too muddled up and messy. She told herself it was the smarter thing to maintain distance. 

That was all horseshit.

She was a scared little kid on the streets of Madripoor once again. She’d lost her family and was walking around without a place to call home and the thought of having to fight HYDRA on top of that would’ve been too much. She’d looked the other way, let things slide, let the murder of her only family slide on account of being a fucking pussy.

And now, she has to confront the truth.

“Did you know?” Tony asks Steve somewhere behind her.

She can’t take her eyes off the now black screen.

“I didn’t know it was him,” Steve answers.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?” 

There’s silence for a few seconds, a long, long few seconds, and then, “Yes.”

That—now that makes Y/n turn.

She only catches Steve’s eyes for a second, before Tony’s punching Steve and reengaging the Iron Man helmet. 

More things happen, the fight’s broken out, she’s sure more shit goes down but something just pricked her in the back of her neck and she’s feeling a little dizzy. Everything feels… so fucking heavy. 

Y/n can still hear the commotion from the fight between the men but it seems distant.

“My apologies, Miss Stark, you imbalance the scales too much,” Zemo’s voice rings out on the speaker. “You’ll be back in the game in just a little while.”

“You ever plan on opening your eyes, sleeping beauty?

“What have you got against my happiness, you cruel, cruel man?”

“I’m not the one who wanted to do this, remember?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re an ass?” She dragged herself out of the passenger seat of the car. Stretching to unfold her joints, she shoved the man next to her just for the fun of it. 

“I’ve got a list of ‘em under my bed, you want to be the latest addition?” He threw back with a smile. Say what you will about the man, but no one can ever deny that Howard Stark had a killed smile. 

“Smart ass,” she chided him without much heat.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something new,” he retorted, hand waved in dismissal. “You ever gonna tell me why we’re here? As far as I recall, I was promised the best bachelor party known to mankind.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t promise jackshit, dickwad. I told you we were going to Atlantic City, the rest you made up all in your head, all by your lonesome.”

“What’s a man supposed to think when his best friend tells him that the bachelor party road trip is going to be to Atlantic City?” He pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket. He put the cigarette between his lips and lit it.

They were leaning on their broken down car, parked on the beach—parked, however would be a generous term. They’d pushed it off the highway onto the beach as a makeshift camp site. The sun was setting ahead of them, slowly being swallowed up by the waves. The wind blew in their faces, as the cars passed by behind them. It made the shit-show of a road trip seem almost worth it… if you didn’t include their car breaking down in the middle and having to push it for a couple miles. Yeah, pretty worth it apart from that one slight glitch.

“I’m your best friend?” She asked, absolutely confused.

Howard just looked at her once before breaking out in maniac laughter. “What sorta question is that?”

“A genuine one,” she told him, serious as ever. “Howie, you serious? I’m your best friend?”

“Yeah, Stark! Obviously you’re my best friend, who else?” He replied, still laughing his ass off. 

“Any fucking body, man. Even Jarvis seems like a more likely option than… me,” she answered.

“That’s some horse shit, Stark and you know it! We live together, we work together, we shit together, eat together. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone’s face as much as I’ve seen yours in the last couple years. You’ve got my last name, damn it. Who the fuck else would be my best friend?” He was looking at her then, genuinely concerned. He seemed like she was asking him if the moon truly revolved around the Earth.

“I… I thought all that—all that’s shit you have to live through cause Peggy dumped me on you,” she provided meekly.

That apparently irked him some. “You think I do all that shit with you cause of Peggy?” He asked. 

She nodded in a simple reply.

That apparently was not the right move. 

He threw the cigarette to the ground, quite angry now, “Why the fuck would I? I’m not a saint and you know it. I never have been. You could count all my good deeds on one hand and all of them had a selfish reason behind it.” He began to pace.

“What was the reason behind this one?”

He looked at her, eyes wide in astonished fury. “The reason behind letting you into my life was that you are by far the only person who understands me. You are the only person I have ever met who’s never asked me to mold myself into something I’m not, while simultaneously encouraging me to be better. You’ve been in my corner, without hesitation and you’ve ripped me a new one when I’ve been wrong. You, Stark, are the only person I’ve ever met who is able to make me believe I am a good man, and understand that I can be better!” He seemed like he was about to blow a gasket. “People see me, see an ass and let me be. You are probably the only person who looks at me and sees the complexities, the entire picture of me as a man. No one gets me, Stark, not even me… Not like you do. 

“At the end of the day, sharing a beer with you, working on cars with you, bitching about S.H.I.E.L.D. with you, that shit keeps me sane. Part of me’s so fucking glad you quit, cause now you’re not gone for days on end for stupid fucking missions. Cause then I get to sit with you and chat about absolutely nothing.” He was still pacing. “You really thought I did all that out of the goodness of my heart? You think I gave you my name cause Peggy asked me to?”

She nodded again, which again was apparently not the right call.

“FUCK, Stark! If I were such a giver I would’ve joined the fucking Red Cross! I gave you my name cause you are my family, damn it!”

“Oh.”

“Oh?!” He raged, not pacing anymore. Facing her, he asked, “That’s all you got?”

She thought for a second, looked over at the man who was standing in front of her, wearing a t-shirt and jeans like any normal dude. The last time she saw the man without a suit and tie was a long time ago, he looked much less of a dick this way. 

“We came here for, i don’t know, for something like a… a last hurrah. I found a place downtown. That and—” she was cut off.

“What?” Howard Stark looked like someone had just punched him in the gut. 

“I found a place downtown,” she told him. “Gimme a week or so, I’ll be out before the wedding.”

“What?”

She hesitated, “I’d be out sooner but I don’t really own… furniture?”

“WHAT?”

She didn’t know how to respond to this line of questioning anymore. “What do you mean what?”

“Is this about what happened? If you’re mad at me, which you have every right to be, let’s fight it out. Punch me if you want, Stark. I’ll take it!” He looked so desperate, it threw her for a spin.

“No! No, this isn’t about that,” she told him, because it’s not.

“Then why else would you talk about moving out?” He didn’t let her answer. He took a couple steps towards her. He fumbled with his words, going back and forth before he looked at her and said, “Look, I understand what I did… I wa—I was way out of line. But I am truly sorry, Stark. I promise you, it will never happen again. I… My head wasn’t in the right place. I thought if I found something—no I don’t know. I thought I could help. You were struggling with controlling your powers, so I thought maybe I could find something to help you with it. I thought I’d tell you if I found something, and if I didn’t then… Then no harm done, right?” He seemed beyond desperate.

“It’s not about that, Howie.”

“Come on! I know you’re pissed at me! Just say it!”

She walked past him, with her back to him and her face to the ocean ahead, she replied, “I am not pissed at you, Howie…”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

She exhaled deeply. “I’m hurt, not pissed.”

“Is that why you want to move out?” He asked, his voice small.

She turned to him then, “What? No! You’re my best friend, dickwad. I ain’t ditching you cause you did something profoundly stupid?” 

“I’m your best friend?” Howard asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck off, asshat.”

He took a step towards her. “No, seriously. I thought, after what I pulled…”

“You were an ass, yes. It was a breach of trust and like I said, I am… I’m pretty hurt… But that’s got nothing to do with any of this.”

“Then?”

“You’re getting married, man. I can’t keep crashing on your couch once your wife’s around,” she explained. “How is she gonna feel?”

“Elated,” he answered easily. Before she could argue, continued, “I think Maria is more excited about sharing the place with you than me. Something about you being a better cook or whatever.” He leaned on the car again, pulling out a fresh cigarette, he lit it.

“Oh so it’ll be you, your wife and the freeloader on the couch? One big happy family?” She was frankly really confused about the entire arrangement.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. I’ve never bought groceries a day in my life, and yet the fridge is always stocked. You’re the farthest thing from a freeloader, Stark. And besides, I’m not as big a dumbass as you think I am, you know? I’m not gonna make her move into my room that shares a wall with yours.”

“Then?” She asked, motioning him to pass the cigarette to her. She took a drag.

“I live in a mansion, you idiot. We’ll move into the master-bedroom, like God fucking intended I’ll turn my old room into my lab, which let’s be honest is already my lab, and we’ll be fine and dandy!” He took the offered cigarette from her hand and took a drag himself.

“Oh…”

“You really didn’t think I had a plan?” He asked with the smirk audible in his words.

She shook her head, “I thought moving out would be the kinder, smarter thing to do.”

“How?”

“I’d be done burdening you and it’d be less humiliating than you finding me a place as a way of politely telling me to fuck off,” she offered.

He looked at her again, “If after all these years you don’t already know that place is your home, then I have been doing something seriously wrong.” 

Somewhere behind them, up the hill on the road, a car was parked as the two passengers were yelling out their names from inside it. It was Jarvis and Maria, calling out to them. She and Howard had called them asking for help once they knew their car couldn’t be saved even with the joint acumen of both friends. 

They both turned at their names being yelled out. Looking back at the site of Maria waving at them, Howard’s head fell. “I really have been doing it wrong, haven’t I?”

She motioned for both of them to park the car and join them on the beach before turning to Howard. “You’ve been doing just fine.”

“I shouldn’t have lied to you about the experiments,” he stood up straighter. “If you want to move out because of all that shit, I understand. I’ll get you a place in New York, not too close but not too far either. And you don’t gotta worry about any furniture or any of that shit. I’ll get it sorted.” He turned over to Jarvis and Maria who were walking down the hill to them. “Hey Jarvis, what was the name of my realtor?” He shouted.

She punched him on the shoulder, hard.

“OWW! What was that for?”

“For betraying my trust and conducting experiments on my blood without my consent,” she told him, his face sobered instantly. So she punched him again.

“FUCK ME! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?”

“Thinking I cared for you so little that betraying me would change the fact that you’re my best friend.”

“What in God’s name are the two of you doing?” Maria asked as she and Jarvis finally came to stand in front of them.

“Oh I was just about to ask Stark if I can punch for thinking you and I were going to kick her out,” Howard told Maria while looking at her with a smirk.

“You’re welcome to try.” She told him.

But Maria intervened, “What kind of nonsense is that? Why the hell would you move out?” Her tone is so stern it throws her off. “You’re family.”

And just like that, it was settled.

Y/n was a Stark.

When she wakes up, all she can hear is Steve’s voice ringing in her ears.

‘Don’t bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?’

‘Yes’

Her eyes couldn’t focus. Try as she might, her head is too heavy for her vision to be anything but blurry. Everything’s too heavy. She tries to stand, but the weight of her bones seem so foreign, she can barely flip herself onto her stomach.

But then, she hears something. The sound of a metal clashing into metal.

And a yelp. Tony’s yelp.

That’s a war cry. 

With whatever little strength she can muster up, she pushes herself off the ground. Stumbling across the hall, struggling to make her way through the  broken pieces of concrete, she gets to the end of the corridor, to the sight of her brother, on his knees, being tag teamed by Sergeant Barnes and Steve Rogers.

Suffice it, all hell breaks loose.

Her armor is up within the second.

Instantly she glitches in front of Tony, between the two super soldiers. Punching Barnes in the throat, her focus lands on Steve.

“Y/n,” Steve tries, stumbling back.

“Steve,” she speaks evenly, as she takes a step towards him.

“Y/n, he didn’t know,” his words are haphazard, confused. He keeps stepping back, trying to put distance between himself and her.

She’s not going to let him go that easily. “Uh-huh.”

“HYDRA had brainwashed him,” Steve says.

Her fists clench. 

“You know what that’s like, don’t you?”

And that—well, he shouldn’t have said that.

The first punch she throws lands straight on his jaw. She even hears it crack.

“Y/n,” he tries again, stumbling back.

“Talking part’s over, Rogers.” The second hit lands directly to his gut. He falls to his knees, she grabs his collar, dragging him upright, she hits him, and then hits him again, and again. As she’s going for another hit, a metal arm wraps around her wrist—halting her in the process.

Turning she faces Barnes. Knees him in the side, waits for him to recoil, for the hurt and lands a gorgeous uppercut. She grabs him by his shirt to keep him from falling. Pulling him back, she knees his other side, elbows him right to the face, once, twice, thrice before he blocks her.

He tries to land a hit to her side but she dodges easily. He’s using his right arm, instead of the metal one. It’s Barnes fighting her right now, not The Winter Soldier. She aims a kick to his temple but is blocked by Steve before she can land it. He pulls her by her leg, ready to throw her to the other side of the room only to get her off Barnes. He thinks she’s targeting him, that Barnes is her focus, the main subject of her anger.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

Mid motion of Steve yanking her off, she glitches out of his hand easily. She glitches in, less than a second later, only a couple steps ahead of him.

He yelps, shaking off his hand. The contact of his hand on her leg sent a bolt of electricity through his hand. She’s brimming with so much power right now, she’s kind of impressed with him still standing. He eyes her. She can see a confusion of determination and.. Fear.

It makes her a little cocky.

With a clenched jaw and a slight tilt of her head, she challenges both men to do their worst.

Steve attacks her from the left side, while Barnes takes her on from the right. It’s hubris at its best. Steve Rogers is holding back because he believes he’s stronger, he believes he might hurt her. Sergeant Barnes is afraid to even have the fight, he’s only fighting to protect his best friend. But otherwise, he’s ridden with guilt—guilt of killing Howard and Maria, guilt of all the people he killed when he was brainwashed by HYDRA, the guilt of torturing her relentlessly under HYDRA’s mind control. Barnes is fighting with his heart, not his head.

Both men have made the crucial and substantial error of pissing her off.

She reads their attacks easily, dodging most and letting Barnes hit Steve by just moving out of the way or using Steve’s momentum to land a punch on Barnes. Their fight pattern is old and boring, just like them. Barnes manages to land a hit to her leg, she gives it back to him two folds by wrapping her thighs around his throat and throwing him through the ground. Steve on the other hand barely manages to land a hit to her gut.

“Ugh!” She yells out, and the man halts instantly.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, more out of habit than anything else.

Fucking idiot, she thinks, before kicking him straight in the chest. He stumbles back and falls on his ass. Furious at his naivete, he’s back on his feat instantly. With Barnes in toe, they jump back in on her.

But she sees them coming a mile away every single time—that’s the curse of fighting with your heart. It makes you predictable… if you know the person you’re up against.

There’s a hold, Steve’s shield against her punches, while the other hand’s occupied dodging attacks from Barnes. Steve looks at her then, right in the eyes before speaking between her punches, “Never thought you’d use it against me when I taught it to you.”

Belatedly, and only once the words leave Steve’s mouth does she realize that the move was his, he taught it to her on a sweet summery evening. They were covered in sweat and it felt sweeter than sin when one thing led to another and he’d tackled her to the ground for a completely different purpose altogether. She can practically feel her blood run cold.

The irony is, she would look back on this moment later and realise, that right now she’s doing the same fucking thing as the boys—fighting with her heart, with all the fire that’s burning inside of that small fragile little organ that her head doesn’t have a fucking chance against it. And unfortunately she doesn’t realize it until she makes the mistake of ignoring Barnes’ left arm. The metal arm.

Barnes lands blow right to her chest, the force of his super strength along with the metal fucking arm courtesy of HYDRA, sends her flying across the room. Her head hits the wall before she falls to the ground.

Her consciousness comes and goes, but she can swear she can hear Tony cursing at what she presumes are the offending party, Barnes and Rogers. But she can’t be too sure, the world seems to be slipping from her, like sand through her fingers.

“I know you always do, but I’ll say it just for my peace of mind—look out for Tony, will you?” Maria asked with such trepidation that one would think she genuinely was afraid the answer could ever possibly be anything except yes… AS IF. 

But Y/n just nodded.

Maria nodded as well and then looking back she placed a kiss on Tony’s cheek.  

“We’ll back by Monday morning,” Howard informed her, a little hesitant.

“Enjoy the fucking Bahamas,” Y/n had replied with a substantial amount of bitterness. She never appreciated it when they—more pointedly Howard—left Tony behind, so the bitterness came quite easily. And somehow it became the last thing she ever said to the two people who (along with Tony) constituted her entire family.

Her eyes open because of the sheer brightness of it. Her concussed brain cannot fathom what could possibly be radiating so much light. Until her eyes focus, then she sees it. Tony’s blast against Steve’s shield.

It breaks her heart. 

Then they’re fighting again. Steve’s falling heavy on Tony. With emotions running so high, she’s sure Tony’s not quite focused on his training. He’s probably relying on F.R.I.D.A.Y. to examine his fight patterns. She wants to help, but her head feels heavy, like there’s a leak in it. Stretching a hand with all her might, she touches the offending leak on the back of her head and apparently it really is a leak, because when she brings her hand back in front of her, it’s covered in red.

She looks around for Barnes then, suddenly very worried for Tony’s safety. She can’t protect him from both of them if she’s injured. But when she spots him lying on the ground, left shoulder armless and in ruins, all her fear fades away and she’s only left with pity.

When she looks back at Tony, he’s turned the tides. Steve’s on the floor on his knees in front of him.

“He's my friend,” she hears Steve say in between heavy breaths. But even on his feet with Tony looming over him, Steve Rogers sounds nothing but determined.

“So was I,” Tony replies… heartbroken.

Tony punches him again, then again and then throws him off to the side. “Stay down. Final warning,” he warns, blasters pointed at Steve.

Steve struggles to his feet, his face bloody and his gate weary. He raises his fists and stares Tony down, “I can do this all day.”

Iron man raises his left palm ready to fire. Bucky grabs his leg and Tony spins, kicking him in the face. Steve grabs Iron Man and lifts him over his head, then throws him down, punches him and bashes his mask off with his shield before striking down hard on the suit's core.Tony looks horrified and glowers fearfully at Steve who pants for breath. Both have blood spattered across their faces. Steve looks back at Tony then shuts his eyes and slumps down.

Later, much much later she’ll realize Steve had slammed the shield onto the arc reactor at the center of Tony’s suit on purpose. She doesn’t know that right now. Right now it’s too late, she sees red.

Slowly and then all at once the ground begins to shake. All three men are confused for a second until it clicks, for Barnes before either of her two favorite men in her life. Barnes is the one who looks to her for an explanation for what could very easily be a natural calamity. The other two follow eventually.

“Y/n,” Steve tries.

But like she’s already pointed out, it’s too fucking late. She’s radiating power, too much of it. Only when the men begin covering their eyes does she realize she’s radiating light, too much of it. She’s on her feet, levitating, inches above the ground.

“Doll,” Steve tries again. He shouldn’t have.

Her hands clench and the building begins shaking.

Steve takes a few steps towards her, with something akin to love in his eyes perhaps but she doesn’t much care for it now. “Doll, you gotta hear me out.”

“No…” she thinks aloud, “No I don’t.” She lets her hands go free, there’s a wave of energy that explodes from her, it's bright and it’s pink and it’s pure unadulterated power. The walls begin to crack, pieces of the structure begin to fall and all she can do is relish the horror in Steve’s eyes as the realization of her strength dawns on him.

The sky above them becomes more visible as the building and its miscellaneous parts fall away, and the sky is a soft shade of pink. She’s moving each and every part of their surroundings, even the clouds. They’re rubbing against each other, thunder crackling above them. There’s heat in her power, just as much as there is inside her. She’s burning with it, she wants to burn Steve with it as well.

How fucking dare he raise that shield against Tony? Against Howard’s son? After everything he did for Steve? After everything Tony did for Steve? After everything she did for him… after all her love?

How fucking dare he?

Her armor is up in a second and she hits the ground. Before Steve can even comprehend what’s happening, she manifests her blade, before he can register it, she’s shoving away Barnes who had stepped in to protect his best friend, before he can even react, her blade is glowing bright and pink inches from his eyes, already at his throat.

“Y/n,” Tony calls out, and his voice is the only thing between her and the death of Captain America at her hands.

It takes everything in her to not give in, to not slide her blade a little further, it’s already cutting in, drawing a drop of blood. She watches it trickle down onto his uniform. It breaks her heart, it breaks her apart. She loved this man, she loves this man, body and soul. She is his, even now. She doesn’t know how to not be his. She doesn’t know how to stop loving him, she is not sure she wants to, even now. But this is the cost of betrayal.

Barnes tries to step in, but he’s quite broken already. Moreover, he’s not her sinner. She glitches away with Steve only a couple steps away. Barnes is about to try again when she presses the blade further in, only by a millimeter but it draws more blood and Barnes backs down immediately. He looks to Tony, hopelessly.

“Y/n,” Tony begins. “Let him go.” His voice is broken and strained as it takes everything in him to get back on his feet. 

“Why?” She challenges. She’s raging, there’s so much inside her, so much brimming just under her skin, she’s electrified by it. The ground beneath her feet is shaking well enough that it’s cracking. They should be running, all of them should be running. Outside they can hear the structure crumbling to the ground, pieces of the building are falling all around them too.

“Because you love him, Y/n,” he tells her easily. There is no urgency in his voice, there is no fear either. He’s not worried about getting buried under the rubble, he’s not particularly worried about Steve either, she thinks. He’s speaking as if he’s just stating a fact, and a fact it is. “You love him so damn much.”

“So?” She watches Steve wince at her response, which wouldn’t throw her off all that much but he hadn’t even flinched when she’d first placed the blade against his throat. 

“So?” Tony throws back, his voice rumbling alongside the thundering clouds. It’ll begin raining any second now. “So it’ll kill you to kill him.”

“He deserves it,” she tells Tony, because he fucking does.

“I know,” Tony acquiesce. “But you don’t. It’ll break you, Y/n. And I can’t… I can’t lose you too….”

She knows he’s right. If she kills him right here, right now, and she could, she really fucking could, Tony would lose her because she well and truly loves this man more than she needs air to breathe. Because with every one of her responses she watches his heart break and while it felt like vengeance, her heart is aching knowing that she caused it.

What the fuck does that even mean? She wants him to hurt, like he’s hurt her but causing him pain hurts her more than it harms him so what even is the fucking point?

What in the fuck is the motherfucking point?

“Fuck!” She curses. 

She looks at Tony, covered in wounds and blood, who, just like her, is raging with anger only kept at bay out of reverence for her. He shakes his head. 

“FUCK!” She yells out, another wave of power pulsing out of her, breaking the entire foundation of the building at once. And then swiftly, she pushes Steve away and rushes over to her brother, shouldering his weight. 

Behind her, she hears Steve take a step towards her, but is stopped in his tracks when an entire staircase falls in front of him, blocking his path. It’s for the best. “Get out,” Tony tells him. “Get the fuck out of our lives, Rogers.” She doesn’t turn to look at Steve’s face at his words. She doesn’t want to know. 

Steve begins leaving, helping Barnes up and shouldering his weight. 

There’s rubble falling all around them when Tony calls out one last time. “That shield doesn't belong to you. My father made that shield!”

“You don't deserve it,” she says it only as a whisper but she knows he can hear it clear as day. 

Steve stops, raises his chin, then drops the shield and walks away with Bucky's arm around his shoulder.

Before the entire thing can collapse on their heads, Y/n glitches Tony and herself outside, near his jet.

It begins raining. It’s not supposed to rain this time of year in Siberia, but with the amount of energy Y/n has let escape into the sky, the clouds had very little say on the matter.

They sit there on the snow, under the rain and watch as the building crumbles to the ground. It’s a fucking mess. 

It’s silent but the animosity in the air is clear.

She knows he hates her right now and she can’t blame him all that much to be honest.

“You should have let me kill him,” she tells him.

Tony scoffs. “You should have let me kill Barnes.”

“Wasn’t his fucking fault he was brainwashed. He probably didn’t even remember till Zemo showed him the fucking tape. But Steve… he knew, and he lied to us.”

“You got great taste in men.”

Her jaw clenched, “You should have let me kill him then.”

“What would be the point?”

She doesn’t know the answer. But the terse tone of his voice is proof enough that a part of him blames her for it too. And well, he should. She could’ve done so much more about it all but instead she chose to fall for the man who lied to them about the death of their family. Of course he hates her. She hates herself.

Her phone chimes. Reluctantly she checks it. “Fuck,” she curses.

“Let me guess, in another 5 minutes I’m about to get a text from dear old Theadore about how he’s on his way ready to rain down hellfire?” Tony questions, clearly rhetorically. When she doesn’t respond, Tony clenches his jaw and says, “Get out of here, I’ll take care of it.”

“Tony,” she tries.

“Get out of here, Y/n!” Is all he says as he gets up and begins making his way inside his jet.

She stands there for a second, soaking in the rain, letting the snow beneath her feet burn her cold. And then she glitches away.

Read the next part here, Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

tag list: @aryksworld @freeflyingphoenix @arikarapli @just-anotherstan @justab-eautifulmess @ceo-of-daichi @roxannejblack @liketearsintherainn @paintballkid711 @starkleila @heyitsmereading @fairlygothparents @euphoria-svt @sidepartskinnyjeans @mini-kunoichi @third-broparcelicito @siwiecola @haleybutnotthecomet @mvaldez7821 @iamspeed16  @ashpeace888 @hopeofwinter @percabethfangirl987 @lilfuturescars @hailqueenconquer

tag list is important now more than ever, i post but very scarcely, please let me know if you want to be on it.

[no-see-um-incorrect]

Simple fear

Sam/Trans!Masc Darlin

A gift for my Darling Brother @prince-damien-of-darkness

TW:⚠️Shots⚠️vulnerability⚠️fear⚠️trauma⚠️

This is mostly fluff but you can never be too careful

Description: Darlin gets their T Shot for the first time in so long! But they have a problem…Maybe Sam is the solution!

Authors note: this takes place after Sam and Darlin’s first “hanky-panky” session but before they move in together 

*Ringing* “Sam Collins” “HEy Sam…” They cleared their throat attempting to swallow their nerves, but to no avail “You OK darlin?” “yeah, I’m d doing fine w why do you ask?” “the voice crack and long pause is very tellin’ darlin’. also, you calling me on a Friday evenin’ ain’t the most normal thing..so what’s up?” pinching the bridge of their nose they take a deep breath “…you know how I told you I used to take testosterone injections?” “yeah..but you couldn’t afford it anymore because you were off the packs insurance. I remember” “yeah well David helped me sort out stuff with the insurance and I can get my injections again..” “well, that’s great darlin’! But um… you don’t sound too happy about it” “Well it’s not that I’m not happy about it. It’s..embarrassing..” “Embarrassing?”

“yeahhh well, the testosterone comes in the form of a shot” “Why would a shot be embarrassing?” “…” “……Darlin I can’t help you if you don’t use your words” “..I’m terrified of needles” “Pardon me?” Sam could hear shuffling around on their end “You heard me! shots, needles, injections. I hate it. I fucking hate it” “Darlin..don’t you have?-” “Tattoos? yeah yeah, I do. BUT they were given to me by Ansel when I was unconscious in high school. Hell throughout my childhood the only way I could get any shots was to be strapped down or sedated” Unbeknownst to them just as they said that. Sam was already making up a duffel bag and getting ready to leave for their apartment

“And you called me because you want me to help you with your shot?” “…yes. AND I know it’s stupid AND I know it’s rush hour but I promise I’ll make it up” “It’s not stupid. It’s a fear and fear is human…..and believe it or not you are human in that sense” They paused for a moment and signed “damn you Samuel Collins” “damn me? for what?” “..for making me be nice to myself” “Yeah truly criminal. Hey, can you let me in?” “what do you mean let you in? I-hold on HOW ARE YOU HERE??” They swing open their front door and see Sam standing there duffel bag in one hand and, a grocery bag in the other “Sam!” they wrap their arms around Sam‘s neck and kiss his cheek. the feeling of his scruff against their lips, sending them into a smile.

“How you holding up Darlin?” “Well now that you’re here. I’m doing fine, Great even~” They pulled Sam closer till their noses touched “Hi Sammy~” “Hi Darlin” “I love you~” “I love you too..what I don’t love is you trying to distract me from helping you. come on let’s have a seat on your couch” Darlin groaned and went back inside their apartment, following closely behind. They both sit on the couch and Sam sets the grocery bag on the coffee table. Darlin looks at it in confusion before turning his attention back to Sam “You’ll get to see what’s in the bag in a minute. Right now, I need your attention on me” There’s that tone they were all too familiar with. Sam gets this way about him when he’s healing/helping his mate. A Way that makes it feel like it’s them and only them. “do you want me to hold you for a minute before we start”

They nod and straddle Sam’s lap resting their head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around them and gently glides his fingertips up and down their bicep

“So what about the shot is making my big bad wolf nervous” “That’s the thing….I don’t know” “Hmm?” “I’ve always been like this. Even when I was little my folks had to take me to a special enpowered doctor so I could be magically restrained” “Why were you restrained?” “You gonna make fun of me” “Darlin have I ever made fun of you for somethin’ like this?” “No…” “Then spill” “….I would get so nervous that it would trigger my shifting when they would give it to me….” Sam takes a minute to process before speaking again “and they restrained you?” “Yeahhh” “ignoring how ethically fucked up that is. What do you want me to do to make this experience better for you?” they nuzzled into Sam’s neck.“This is nice…I like hearing the sound of your heartbeat…is that weird?” “Darlin. if it helps you, it’s not weird…here set up for a second”

they sit upright and Sam reaches for the bag off the coffee table “I know a guy who takes a shot like this only difference is his were for migraines. Sometimes his partner would help him..” he opens up the bag and takes out a small cardboard box, a Pack of tissues, and a box of Band-Aids, as well a the paper pharmacy bag with his mates shot. setting them in the spot next to him.

“I’m gonna have you snuggle in real close. Nestle your face in my neck like you were doing…and I’m gonna give it to you ok?” “Sam I don’t want to see the needle” “You won’t. I promise” they look into Sam’s eyes. Then nod. “alright snuggle in real close get nice and comfy” They adjust themselves. Wrapping their around Sam and burying their face in his neck. giving a few quick kisses whilst getting cozy.

Once they assumed their position they let out a sigh of relief

“you doing alright darlin?” “Yeah” “I’m gonna start prepping the area now” just as Sam promised. Their vision was obscured. Only being able to tell what’s going on from the sound of packaging being gently torn open. which was just barely audible over the sound of soft humming in their ear. They felt him rub a slightly cool alcohol pad in a small circle on their thigh. They knew what was coming and started to tense up.

Sam kissed their temple and ran his hand up and down their bicep just like before.

“I got you darlin,” he says against their skin. Sam hummed a bit louder than before. their muscles relaxed again. Nearly entranced in the sound.

He tightened his arm around them “alright darlin 1…2..-*CLICK*” with only a tiny yelp from his mate. The shot was done. Sam places it in the sharps box he had next to him and quickly cleans the wound placing a Band-Aid over it.

He carefully reaches down and props up the couch footrest. Then wraps his arms around his darlin.

“you alright darlin?” he felt their lips smile against his skin and start kissing all over his neck and jaw. he laughs and pulls them closer “I’m gonna take that as a yes” “Thank you Sammy~” “What are you thanking me for? I just gave it to you. You’re the one who took it” “That does seem to be how it goes often for us, huh?-” “Alright ya menace relax” Mischievous laughter escapes them as they sit up to greet their mate face-to-face “ok. but seriously thought..Thank you for this it means a lot” “A fear, especially one as intense as yours is a really vulnerable thing. I’m honored that you trust me with it” “I wouldn’t trust anyone else” They lean back down to kiss him, his hands wrapping around their torso, pulling them closer. “mmM- I have one more request!” Sam raised an eyebrow slightly caught off guard by the sudden interruption “All right go ahead darlin…What’s your request?” “….can we cuddle some more?” Sam smiles and leans back in his chair “I was hoping you were gonna ask” A big smile spreads across their face as they lay down on their mate's chest. Sam kisses and snuggles the top of their head.

“I love you Darlin” “I love you too Sammy…so fucking much”

——————————————————————

Moral of the story

This is probably bad

I’m sorry if it is

Also sending all the love to my fellow trans masc’s out there y’all are amazing and handsome and brilliant. I love y’all

[mimiribbuns]

I... might not come back to this account, depending. I just feel beyond exhausted and fucking fed up

I don't know if there's something wrong with me. Ever since I was a child, I've been pulled into different religions thanks to my parents or schools like Hinduism, Islam and of course, Christianity. And I never felt any connection to any of them

Not in a. Literal sense. They're interesting religions to learn from (though I gained some huge trauma from Islam and Christianity), but just that everyone else around me were always staying how connected they feel to the divine. How everytime they pray they felt their gods with them.

And don't get me wrong, little me tried to pray and believe too. But I couldn't feel or sense any divinity, and after my life fell to shit I decided to become an athiest up until recently when I thought, "oh, maybe religion can help me again."

It. Did not. Haha.

Don't misunderstand, I don't expect the gods if they're even bothering to actually help immediately. I know that I have to help myself too.

But I dunno man. Everyone else has SOME connection, SOMETHING from their gods that tell them, "hey I hear you, I'm here!"

And me?? I haven't felt shit. I don't feel any sort of divinity and instead of feeling better when starting paganism I feel so much worst.

And really childish I know but I feel so fucking lonely. How can everyone else sense and feel their gods and I can't? What am I doing wrong? I'm trying so hard with what I can have, and nothing works. No matter what I do, how much I try to learn and save and offer what I've got, nothing works. I don't. Sense shit.

I don't know what I'm doing wrong but it feels so unfair. It genuinely doesn't matter what religion I've come across, almost everyone can sense their gods and feel them and I can't. No matter what I do, it just doesn't work.

Am I the problem then?? Am I so fucking horrible that my own creators don't even want to fucking to at least be there?? Any kind of signs!? Nothing??

I dunno, I'm just ranting cause I feel so lonely, I can't exactly go to my friends about this because what the hell am I going to say? "Hey, I feel pathetic and lonely because I'm so horrible no god wants to speak to me or something"?

I dunno maybe I'm just losing my shit. But I feel so pathetic and lonely. What am I doing wrong? Why can't I feel connected to any gods?? How can everyone feel them and I can't??

Its so unfair. I hate feeling like this, I just wanna give up.

I dunno if trying religion was a good idea. I just feel worst and even more aware that I'm so fucking horrible that even my creators just want me to go away. This stinks

[gingerylangylang1979]

Will Carmy become an addict?... Also, exactly what are his mental health (or other) issues?

This conversation is an offshoot of thoughts expressed here in conversation with @november-rising.

I'll start by saying I do not think Carmy is currently an addict or in recovery from an addiction. But, could Carmy become an addict like his dad (was he an addict or just a heavy abuser, we don't know) Mikey, and Donna? Maybe. Also, I hope nothing I write is offensive to anyone. If anyone thinks there is something I'm missing or misrepresenting please share and we can talk about it. I'm open to learning.

The statistic rates for people impacted by another person's addiction becoming an addict themselves is high. I myself had a drug addict mom and an alcoholic ex. I dabbled in drugs but never became an addict unless you count cigarettes and weed (no longer do either). How me and my brother didn't end up addicts despite our experimentation with hard substances is beyond me. All of the prerequisites were in place and I feel like we almost were tempting it like, come on, I know you want to take me, yet, neither of us ended up addicts.

Sometimes I felt it would make things easier. I think it was Lou Reed, maybe, who said something like addiction made life simple because then you only have one problem to deal with. I wish I only had one problem. I tried stuff as hard as coke, meth, and opium. I was a bartender and partied but never became an alcoholic. My brother went as far as trying heroin a few times. But neither of us became addicts. It's insane if you think about it.

Does that mean we didn't/do participate in fucked up self-destructive behavior? Hell no. Most of my life I have battled with trying to "be normal" all the while self sabotaging all along the way. But I never became an addict.

This is why it's so easy for me to see Carmy in all of his darkness and still see how he isn't necessarily someone doomed to become an addict. Nat didn't become one, me and my brother didn't become ones. I see a lot of us in Nat and Carmy. Carmy is way worse off than Nat, for sure. How, I dunno. And I would say I'm closer to Carmy in the melancholic creative way than my brother. So it's kind of a weird blessing that traumatized people who you would think would become addicts, don't, but it happens.

Could Carmy become one? I think if he continues to not address his issues with individual therapy, continues to blame himself, and just continues the same grind he wanted to escape, possibly. But I'm looking more to how Storer and Co. are telling the story as my signs more than Carmy's actual history. I guess I just don't see what the show would have to gain from Carmy becoming an addict. It would be a tragic ending. I'm not beyond them doing some tragic ending but I think it would just be kind of lame and what was the point if it ends with Carmy continuing the cycle and becoming an addict.

I see him and Nat as the second chance for the Berzattos. She is about to be a mom and hopefully will raise a child that doesn't have to witness any of the trauma she did. Carmy is trying to start over and I think as much as he is struggling now and it may get worse before better, I just see too many points of lightness for him to crawl towards/through. And I think this being so inspired by Storer's lived experience, I can't see him wanting it to end in doom and gloom. Chris and Coco are Carmy and Nat to me. They broke the curse. I think because of that he would want the show to reflect that.

Now, what the fuck is wrong with Carmy, in detail. I will start by saying we don't really know a diagnosis. I think common/possibly correct assumptions are a mix of anxiety, depression, and CPTSD. But I've also seen other ideas like maybe he is on the spectrum among other things. I'm not quick to say anything outside of the first three. He could be neurodivergent, but I guess what makes me not want to say that is because when people bring it up there is often this sentiment that it explains everything about him or that is takes precedent over his behavior being a reaction to his trauma. Two things can be true at the same time but I sometimes feel people apply neurodivergence in a way that dismisses how the average person would deal with a series of overlapping traumas.

The same way I see people assign Sydney as being neurodivergent and I'm like, or she could just be dealing with a lot of bullshit and trauma as a black woman? Because shit, I'm similar, does that mean I'm neurodivergent, too? Not to take away anyone who is neurodivergent and they relate to things they see in the characters. I'm just saying be careful to not dismiss common reactions to lived experience as such without more insight. Or sometimes people can be awkward or quirky without it being neurodivergence. Like sometimes it comes across as what we do know the characters have gone through isn't enough to justify what we see.

I will say I could see a case for Carmy having a learning disability. The evidence being his dislike for reading extensively and his very poor math skills. I think it was @eatandsleepwell who pointed out he only likes books with pictures. It's true. Most of his books are image heavy. And a lot of people are bad at math but he can't keep up with basic addition and subtraction (aka dyscalculia). But again, I think we are seeing evidence of this specific condition, not vague symptoms that could occur due to a number of things.

None of this is to say speculation or headcanons are not welcome. But to hard assign diagnosis is another thing.

[aufucker]

It's Just A Routine Mold Inspection

BJ/Lawrence

Noooo CWs I can think of beyond implied unsanitary? And just. Law being Very Strange and Off-putting.

Long boy coming.

When it came to your line of work, you noticed reading comprehension began at "Re-Nu" and ended at "TRAUMA CLEANING" with little mind given to the following like "MOLD" or "WATER DAMAGE".

The looks of wide eyed confusion you and your coworkers would receive as you pulled up to the large apartment complex were expected. A routine mold inspection with likely no routine communication given on management's part.

Fun, you adored repeating yourself over and over again.

You and your team opted to keep your suits sleeves tied around your waists, or at least kept the hoods down, in hopes it would keep folks from assuming some plague had been cast upon their home.

With clipboard in hand that you long had memorized, you slapped it against your thigh like a battalion drum beat.

"Alright, alright, alright. Got a big building and a bunch of doe eyes, so let's keep talk brief; I want teams of two on each floor, knock, let 'em know it's just a mold check, do your thing, get on out."

"If you don't get an answer, jot down the apartment number and call me about it AFTER you finish your floor; building management gave me a master key and maintenence slips and don't want to call us in the morning, am I making myself clear, *Montgomery?*"

Your callout earned a few quiet chuckles and hearty cackles as your coworker quickly looked up from his phone, nearly dropping his energy drink. "Yeah--! I mean, yeah. I got'cha BJ; they don't open up, you'll break down the doors an' shit."

"Good enough, I'll give that answer a solid C+."

"What? I thought that'd be a B- at worst!"

"You best Be Minusing some fuckin' mold man, it's 7 in the morning and they want us gone by 1500."

---

It was all routine and script. It was frankly boring as Hell.

Knock, script, routine, sign, knock, script, routine, sign. No, no one died, no, no one is sick, no, no one got murdered, no, no, no. Knock, script, routine, sign.

Call.

"Hey, hey Yanez, what's up? Need a key?" You always spoke a little softer to Erica, she was an older lady after all.

"No, well... maybe? Do you have a phone number for this unit? I wanna try calling first."

"*Kookum*, you know we don't call. I can open it for you."

You were surprised to hear the voices of your other coworkers on the other side.

"It smells weird."

"We tried knocking, like, fifty times already. Think I heard someone tell us to fuck off, basically."

"The vibes are straight shit, dude. Can't we just forget this one, like... It's one."

Fucking Montgomery.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily to where they could *all* hear you. "Text me the unit and keep it moving. I'll take care of it. 'Smells weird' come the fuck on, Cherry; you were there for that level five hoard last month. 'Smells weird'." You hung up with little grace.

---

You spun the key in on your gloved finger as your eye scanned the door. It was the right unit. You stood in thoughtful silence, ears perked and nostrils flared.

Okay, it did smell weird. Like earth. Not like mold, but freshly turned dirt. Like a Home Depot garden center right at Spring.  You weren't quite sure what to make of it, not in a way that was relevant to why you were here.

Seizing the key in your hand, you knocked on the door, firm and pounding, like a damn fed. If someone was there, they definitely knew you were there.

"Re-Nu Decon, here for a routine mold inspection." You said loudly. You said with authority - something your coworkers didn't really have a grip on.

You only waited a few seconds before pressing your ear to the door, listening. You could hear shuffling, faint and...sluggish. The smell of earth was so strong, you felt like you were pressing against a buried coffin lid.

You backed away, pounding again, "Hey, man. Look, I got keys, 'aight. You don't want me to barge in, I don't wanna barge in. Hope about you open the door so I can be in and out of your hair, okay?"

Maybe a minute passed, you didn't check, but you heard the clicking sounds of latches opening. *A lot of latches.* More than you knew your key could have possibly opened.

The door cracked open and a pale, blue eye met you. It looked exhausted. You seen that sort of look before, hell, you felt that sort of look before. You softened up a bit, giving a patient smile.

"Hey, man. Sorry for bugging you. Mold inspection. Mind if I come in?" You figured keeping it short and sweet would be for the best. "Will just be a few minutes, promise. I'm fast."

The eyes looked at you, but you weren't sure what was behind them. A rather quiet, "Yeah." was your answer.

You entered the apartment, looking at the man who dwelled in it; a lanky blond thing with tired blue eyes that didn't seem capable of looking at it for more than a few seconds at a time. He was tall. But you were still taller. He didn't seem to expect it.

You watched him scratch at the light stubble on his chin in discomfort as you looked around. The place was utterly covered in plants, some you knew, some you didn't, but you found it a little impressive all the same, giving a low whistle.

At least you had an explanation for the dirt smell.

"Any of these plants need humidifiers?"

"Huh? Oh. Uh... yeah... some."

"Got'cha. Ventilation good?"

"Uhm... I... I think so."

You nodded briefly, walking around the small unit as you scanned the typical suspects, the corners, the kitchen, the ceilings. All the while your nose was filled with the scent of earth and nature and

copper.

You could feel his eyes bearing into your back, like they were trying to burrow into your spine when you carefully slid a plant out of the way to check the walls it covered.

"African Mask?" You asked.

"Yeah..." he answered. You think he sounded surprised.

"You got a nice collection, man. How long you been growing?" Swab, crack, shake, wait. Negative.

"Thanks." His words sounded like they were being pulled by ropes. "I, uh... been doing it a while."

This whole damn unit was taking a while. You tried to focus on your work, tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on you. In you. Swab, crack, shake, wait. Negative. It felt like hours of painfully long silence, the rattling of leaves of the plants you moved ringing like static.

You heard him speak. Close. Too close. "Uhm... do you... want some tea?"

Jesus, Joseph, and fucking Mary. You hoped your jolt out of your skin wasn't obvious. "Huh? Oh, uh, no. No thanks. Appreciate it. I'm wrapping up now. You're clear so far. Just gotta check the bathroom."

"Someone's in there." He answered before you could really finish. "It's. Occupied."

You wanted to argue, tell him to tell whoever the fuck was doing their business *that long* to hurry the hell up and get out so you can swab fucking toilets for mold spores... but you noticed the time.

And you noticed how he stared at you. Through you.

1523. You fucking went over. He was looking through you. In you.

"...right. Well. If you had anything going on, I think most of it would be out here. So... uh... yeah. I'm sure the bathroom's fine." It was embarrassing how your words felt like putty in your mouth. The click of your pen felt like a crate of bricks were being dropped as you passed it and your clipboard over to him.

"Just... Sign by your unit number and I'll be out."

It smells like earth. It smells like copper.

You didn't bring anything to test for blood.

Why would you?

It's a routine mold inspection.

[phosphenemoth]

Vent:

Why is everyone always able to be so silent and calm and feel nothing when I have to feel the impact of life shattering me over and over?

Through different people that I encounter daily, through circumstances. Things break me and rip me and tear me open until I bleed. People I don't even know remind me of the past and the pain and how stuck I am now while they silently stare into my eyes and say "it's okay don't cry." It's not fucking okay nothing is okay and nothing has ever been okay I am dying. Don't tell me not to fucking cry! I want to fucking scream.

This is the actual conversation that triggered me:

Care Manager: "Are you depressed?"

Me: "Yes."

C: "How often are you depressed?"

Me: "24/7 every day of my life. I can't think of one moment that goes by in which i am not."

C: "Do you have plans of killing yourself?"

Me: *Trick question. That one will land me in the hospital, and I can't afford to lose 2 weeks from the world and my bed at the shelter* "No. I don't." *I definitely do.*

C: "Do you love yourself?"

Me: "50/50"

C: "What do you mean?"

Me: "Well, how could I possibly? Look at me... look where I am... I am stuck in life, and all of these things are-"

C: "It's okay. Don't cry. There could be hope still."

Me: "I can't see that, but okay"

C: "So, no trauma?"

Me: "What do you mean no trauma?! my life has been full of nothing, but trauma, mental, and physical abuse from my dad sexual abuse from my husband mental abuse from plenty of others afterward and-"

C: "I am sorry to hear about that. Do you take medicine?"

Me: "When I can. I have to ration it out because I don't currently have a doctor and-"

C: "Okay, we can get you a doctor. How long do you plan on being here?"

Me: "What do you mean in the shelter?!"

C: "Yes"

Me: "Considering I have no money and too much anxiety to get a job and need some sort of income to have an apartment then I will probably need government assistance I can't move out with no money and no where to go and-"

C: "Did you have a job in the past?"

Me: "Yes but my anxiety got so bad I just couldn't even show up anymore."

C: "Do you want another job?"

Me: *it's not really that fucking simple I am mentally ill as hell* "well any time I try to fill out a job application my hands start shaking and I can't breathe" *can feel myself starting to have a panic attack at the prospect*

C: "Do you want a job?"

Me: *Gives up on trying to explain why it isn't plausible* "No."

C: "Okay then one thing at a time we will get you a doctor then maybe you can get signed up on SSI. I'll come back and see you next week. I will be in contact." *gets up and leaves*

Fuck that couldn't have gone worse for me mentally and I have to see her again next week. Hopefully, something gives, and I feel better next time I see her, and everything is not feeling like it is going to hell.

[moochi-daisies]

2012. 02.

- 18+, Minors DNI

Content contains: smoking, swearing, drinking, tension and moments

Length: 5k words

- In Summation: Two people fall in love, which would make for a much shorter story if they had better communication skills.

Find the rest here!

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     The bus ride felt like thirteen hours. Time did not magically speed by as much as I expected it to.

I clambered on with my backpack and plopped into my seat, watching the others file on to find their own place. I was the only person under 40 by the looks of it. Lots of grizzled old men shot me concerned or quizzical looks. Others, some polite smiles. Beyond that - none of us said a word to each other.

     In the beginning of the trip I was elated, my heart beating so hard I could feel it all the way down my arms. Nearly bursting out of my fingertips. I jostled my leg impatiently and put my headphones in, humming quietly to myself. I was off on an adventure, to a new place, off to meet new people.

     An experience.

     I savored the moment as much as I could. That is, until the anxiety starting creeping in. Yoongi hadn't replied after I told him I was on the way. Bile churned in my stomach as I considered the long hours stretching ahead of me, giving me all the space I needed to think more critically about what I was doing.

     It was then that the "what-if" game started to play in my head.

     For those who are unfamiliar with the "what-if" game, it's when your brain starts to conjure up every single "what if" that could happen regarding a situation. Some professionals may call it "anxiety" or "OCD" or " a trauma response". But isn't it more fun to think of it as a game instead?

The game itself though, is not so fun. And I suddenly felt very small on the bus. Instead of feeling like a grown woman, daringly headed wherever life was taking her- the sinking fear that I was just a dumb kid crept through my chest.

     As we lurched into motion, the carefree attitude I'd had when I first got onto the bus flitted away and I clutched onto my bag, pressing it against my body like a safety blanket.

What the hell am I doing? I scolded myself internally, What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?

     A ding on my phone jerked me out of my anxiety spiral. A new message from Yoongi glowed on the screen.

     All right. Let me know when you're close by. Watch out for creeps ok?

     The air rushed out of my lungs like a deflating balloon. I hadn't even noticed I was holding my breath until that moment. Just a single message and my anxiety melted away like it had never been there in the first place. We hadn't talked much, but Yoongi had this ability to calm me down with the few words he did choose to say. I didn't know what to do with that. There were people I talked to constantly, and had known for years, that were incapable of doing the same.

     I was generally excitable in the way I spoke, with a sing-song voice that didn't hide the emotions I was feeling. Yoongi on the other hand, was less flowery than I was, but the words he said were deliberate. They had a weight to them that made me slow down and listen.

     I loved that about him.

     He made sense to me in a world full of people that I never really fully understood or felt understood by.

     With renewed peace (and the dissipation of fearful anxiety), I drifted off to sleep. Waking up to take smoke breaks and stretch my legs whenever we stopped.

Many, many hours later, we passed by the sign for his city and I sent him a message:

     Ok, just passed the city sign. Should be a couple minutes now :) I have on a bunny jacket.

     The bus turned off the freeway and onto the quiet streets of his small city. Snow had fallen already and big white patches dampened any sound, which made it was so much quieter than where I had come from. It was also much, much colder than where I had come from. My bunny jacket was fuzzy and soft, with long floppy ears attached to the hood. It was one of my favorites, but not designed to defend anyone against the natural elements. Still, it was what I had. So I zipped it all the way up and pulled my hands inside the sleeves.

     The bus turned into the station minutes later where I saw a car in the parking lot with about 5 people standing around it, smoking and turning in unison to look towards the bus. My heart pummeled its way into my stomach when I recognized Yoongi as one of them.

     Why were there so many of them?

      Come to think of it, I never asked about his roommates.

     What if they all hate me?

     What if they all think I'm some insane weirdo who came all the way out here and Yoongi just said yes because he felt sorry for me?

     Wait-

I am kind of an insane weirdo who did come all the way out here without even stopping to question why Yoongi said yes in the first place.

Shit.

     I looked down at my nails that I had finally quit biting and painted red. Cursing myself for stopping the habit, I tried to find some skin to pick to calm me down.

     Well - it was a little too late to be backing out now, right?

I didn't have time to continue thinking myself into a spiral. If I had been able to feel my emotions at the time, I think I would've been grateful for that.

     The bus came to stop and air whooshed out as the doors opened. Welcoming the outside chill as it swept through in full force. My legs felt unused, maybe even never used, and I tried my best to remember how to walk as I shakily clambered down the steps. Yoongi and his friends didn't walk up to greet me warmly like I had hoped. Instead they all stood together, watching me walk up to them.

     As I got closer I realized it was a group of guys. A group of cute guys. A group of cute, cool guys that were looking at me like I was an alien. The usual nervousness and sense of doom that usually came with being around a group of guys never came despite my anticipation of it. In its place, was something sweeter. An excited nervousness, a curious nervousness, a hopeful nervousness.

Ok...

I was still really nervous.

      I tried to accumulate moisture in my mouth in order to make my voice sound as confident as possible before speaking.

It didn't work.

      "Um hey, uh-" I cleared my throat, "Yoongi right?"

     The guys all laughed and one of them playfully hit him on the shoulder. Yoongi was even cuter in person- just slightly taller than I was, black hair tucked behind one ear and wearing a heavy looking black denim jacket over a zip up hoodie. He hadn't looked at me yet but briefly glanced at me before speaking up.

     "Yeah, ya found me." His response was short. In a deep and low voice that set off a spark within my belly.

     One of the boys, a taller one with a boyish charm piped up to fill in the silence.

     "Give her a hug man, don't make it weird." The boys eyes caught mine and he gave me a wink. He was so handsome that I don't think I registered him as being real at the time. A lip piercing glimmered under the light of a nearby streetlamp. I smiled back sheepishly and my cheeks started to burn from more than the cold.

     A similar flush was mirrored across Yoongi's cheeks, but he moved towards me anyways - reaching one arm out to give me an awkward hug. Our faces nearly brushed together before he jumped back and turned away from me. Every movement being made felt like it was happening under water and in slow motion.

I must've looked like a lost goldfish.

     "Uh, so these are my roommates. Jungkook-" he gestured towards the boy who had winked at me. "Jin-" another tall one with fluffy hair waved, "Namjoon-" the last of the tall ones and the sturdiest looking one, nodded his head. "Hobi-" a sweet looking one flashed a friendly smile and relief flooded through me as I returned it.

     "Tae and Jimin are back at the house, we couldn't fit them in the car." Hobi continued to explain. Yoongi had shut up abruptly after introductions were made, turning to look off into the distance at nothing in particular.

     "There's more?" I squeaked out, feeling sweat bead up under my jacket.

     The boys all laughed again, well, all except for Yoongi. He had turned towards the car and remained silent, refusing to look at me again.

     The pressure to say something was heavy in the air and I tried to stay positive that this wasn't going to be the most uncomfortable trip I'd ever been on.

      "Well, thanks for having me. I know this must be weird but I'm excited for the show!" I half laughed out. The boys, minus Yoongi, smiled warmly at me, a medley of "happy you're here", "let's get going it's fucking freezing" and "glad you made it" came as response. And in unison, they all began moving to get into the car.

      Yoongi still hadn't said anything but opened the car door closest to me, gesturing for me to get inside. I thanked him quietly, trying not to notice how the smell of tobacco and spices coming off of him made me feel. He closed the door behind me and walked around to get into the passenger side seat.

      Jungkook slid into the back seat with me, before Hobi and Namjoon squeezed themselves in on the other side of him. Jungkook laughed, apologizing for the way his shoulder was pressing against mine. I waved him off with a laugh, telling him how anything felt better than being on that bus. If he had had floppy ears, they would have perked up after I said that. It was so clear in his body language that it was almost weirder that he didn't have them. A big grin spread across his face and he wiggled his eyebrows at me before turning towards the others.

      "This girl's just been on a bus for 13 hours! Let's go get some beer!" Jungkook piped up to the rest. And in eerie unison, five faces turned to look at me, earnestly waiting for my response.

I nodded.

And immediately felt reassured that was the correct choice.

Whoops filled the car as we started to make our way out of the bus station parking lot - Yoongi even chuckled to himself before turning to look out the window.

     Once the noise has settled down -Jin, who was in the driver's seat, began asking me my drink preferences. A decision that was taken as a "Go" cue for the other's to start in with their questions.

      How had I heard about the show?

      Why did I want to come?

      Did I also make music?

      What did I like doing?

      What did I do?

     Yoongi stayed looking out the window, one hand up against his chin, seemingly uninterested in any of the conversation taking place around him. I sputtered out responses and giggled at their rowdy shit talking and tried my best to not stare at Yoongi the entire time.

It was like the drive to get the beers happened in a time vortex, somehow feeling like years and seconds at the same time. When we did finally (suddenly) pull up to the gas station/convenience store, Jin hopped out to get gas and the others followed. Focused on carrying out their mission to get the beers.

      "C'mon out and stretch your legs a bit. You must be sick of sitting." Hobi beckoned at me before turning to follow the others.

     I was very much fine sitting and trying not to hyperventilate but then Yoongi got out of the car and walked around to once again open the door for me. So I pushed myself out of the vehicle, shivering now that the shock of meeting everyone was starting to wear off.

     "It's cold here, huh?" My words came out feebly as I looked at Yoongi.

     God, he was so cute.

     He looked me up and down before frowning a bit, and grumbling out his response.

     "Uh yeah, we wear layers here.".

     Oh.

     He must have realized I was making an effort though because he sighed after the words left his mouth, and took off his denim jacket before stiffly holding it out to me.

     "If you didn't bring a jacket you can wear this while you're here." He said, this time while looking at me directly.

I lost track of the conversation we had been attempting in an instant.

     "You have pretty eyes," I blurted out while reaching for the jacket, "Ah, I mean thank you.". Embarrassment was masked just enough by the fact that what I had said was true. He really did have pretty eyes. My own eyes were a dark brown but nowhere near the deep, dark brown that his were. They were nearly black, like little onyx pools. Lights seemed to sparkle and reflect back out of them.

Like there were stars in his eyes.

     Yoongi's lips pulled back on one side into a small smile and Jin, who was standing behind him, chuckled to himself.

      "Shut up!" Yoongi muttered and without turning around, rolled his eyes at Jin, who held his hands up - feigning innocence. Some sort of telepathy.

     I started to relax a bit, the tension in my shoulders easing. The warmth and smell from Yoongi's jacket brought a comfort that washed away some of the lingering fear. These guys seemed all right and were incredibly welcoming to a random stranger that they just picked up from the bus stop. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe this wasn't a bad idea. Hope didn't feel ridiculous for a change, it even felt potentially warranted. I didn't know what to do with any of the feelings that came with that. Luckily, things were moving too fast for me to stew in those feelings.

     Yoongi pulled out a cigarette and raised his eyebrows at me as he offered the pack in my direction. I focused all of my energy on stopping my hand from shaking as I reached for one and put it between my lips. He kept his movements fluid, almost habitual - pulling out his lighter and turning to cup his hand around the end of my cigarette. Lighting it for me before I could register what he was doing.

     Glancing at my shocked expression, he laughed before lighting his own.

     "Pretty girls don't light their own cigarettes.".

He said the words in a clear voice for the first time that night. Blowing out smoke and following it with his eyes as it trailed off into the sky.

      I looked down, smiling to myself, and took a drag of my own.

  "I didn't know that." I said softly.

And comfortable seconds of silence fell between us.

     Crunching footsteps sounded sharp in comparison as Jin came over for a drag. Starting a conversation with Yoongi about something that warbled through my ears like a foreign language. The tiredness from the trip had begun to hit me like wrecking ball now that adrenaline and fear weren't keeping me going. I walked to a patch of nearby snow, listening to the crackling of ice beneath my feet, taking careful steps and watching green blades of grass peek through the broken up pieces of white.

     The loud voices of the other boys broke me out of my trance and Yoongi waved me back over to the car. I put out my cigarette in a puddle of melting slush, tossing it in the garbage can by the gas pump. And when Yoongi opened my door for me this time, I shot him a shy smile as thanks.

     After he closed the door, I saw him smile to himself as he walked back to the passenger seat. With all of the self-control I could muster, I looked down at my lap once he had gotten into his seat. Feeling the weight of the seat next to me dip down while everyone made their way to their seats. Jungkook's muscular shoulder bumped into mine, a wink and kissy face given as greeting once I turned my head to look up at him.

     "So, you came here without knowing anything about us huh?" He asked in a teasing tone, holding a paper bag of beers in between his knees.

     "Yeah, ha, pretty wild decision now that I think about it." I mumbled. It didn't feel bad that he was teasing me, but the realization that I was so unprepared for this trip kept poking at me like an invisible splinter. My deflated response didn't go unnoticed however, and a tattooed hand palmed the top of my head - fingers scrunching up my hair as a gesture of reassurance.

     "You're gonna have fun, don't worry. We're lots of fun, aren't we Yoongi?" Jungkook lowered his hand from my head and leaned forward to nudge Yoongi, wrinkling his nose as he smiled.

     "Shut up." Yoongi said, not looking back. And the boys all laughed.

I must've looked noticeably confused at this. Because a voice, deep like Yoongi's but smoother, spoke up from behind Jungkook.

     "Yoongi's like that, but he must like you if he said you could come." Namjoon's face peered around Jungkook's wide shoulders. The dimpled smile on his face and soothing way he spoke felt like a hug, and I smiled back at him before Yoongi's first response to me floated through my mind.

     "Wait- you guys were all okay with me coming, right?" I asked the car- suddenly aware of how little Yoongi and I had discussed my coming here.

     There was a moment of silence as Yoongi's head swiveled around to look at the others. A sharp look of, "don't you fuckin' dare" clear across his full moon face.

     Hobi, who was squished between Jungkook and Namjoon broke through the silence with a cheery voice, "Yeah, of course! We're really glad you want to support the show. Yoongi's been working so hard on it!" And the brief moment of tension fizzled, six pairs of shoulders relaxing as the rest of the guys broke out into jumbled praise for Yoongi's work on his music.

     I wasn't trying not to listen, but I couldn't stop staring at Yoongi. Did he say it was okay for me to come without telling everyone else? In the pit of my stomach, the understanding that I may not get the answer to that question became impossible to ignore. "Let it go for now", I remember thinking. And pulled up his jacket up to cover more of my face, sinking down into my seat for the rest of the ride. Settling, as I focused on breathing in the warmth and letting a "what if" game of "reasons Yoongi said I could come" drift through my mind.

     After some time had passed, I don't know how much, the car slowed down as it pulled up to the house and I jolted out of my tiredness while everyone filed out onto the sidewalk. It was a two story house that looked like it had lived through some history- paint peeling off the wood, a good handful of shingles missing from the rooftop. It wasn't run down by any means, but it wasn't new either. It was like it had spent it's time really being lived in. Loved in. A space for family. A worn down ambiguously colored couch sat on the front porch and the light inside glowed yellow through the glass mosaic on the front door.

It was beautiful.

     "Welcome, welcome!" Hobi threw his arms up with an infectious energy as I made my way up the front porch steps. I giggled and paused to curtsy for him, before tiptoeing inside behind Yoongi. Once we had all piled in, a soft "oh" escaped me as I looked around.

     Inside the home was like a paradise of comfort. A giant couch took up most of the living room, covered in pillows and fuzzy blankets. A TV was propped up on a heavy wooden dresser that housed several game consoles, wires spilling onto the floor beside it. A variety of art pieces splattered across the walls and art supplies were tucked around in different cabinets and boxes. Books piled up in various corners and shelves, some were even peeking their way out from under the couch.

To my right was a hallway, which led to Yoongi's room and the bathroom Jin explained to me. Two wooden staircases, one going up and one going down, were also in that hallway and they led to the other boys rooms. An open doorway on the right side of the living room led to the kitchen. I couldn't see it, but the nearly orange walls softly glowed and shone out into the living room like an indoor sunset.

     The exhaustion shot back through my body at the sight of it all. Maybe it was the realization that this was a safe place. That I had travelled all this way and was going to be staying in a place that felt more like home than my own ever did. I slid down to the floor with a thump, gaping at everything around me.

     The boys looked down at me and gently laughed, "You can sit on the couch you know..." Jin joked before slipping into the hallway. "TAE, JIMIN! SHE'S HERE!" he yelled and my mush of a brain tried its hardest to comprehend that there was still two more people to meet.

     Jungkook had plopped onto the couch after pulling the beers out of the bag and called me over. Namjoon had disappeared off to his room and Hobi had walked into the kitchen - rattling sounds that echoed out into the living room followed shortly after. Yoongi had walked immediately to his laptop and started messing with some music programs on the floor near the couch. They were home and living their lives again. Only this time, I was also there. A feeling that I couldn't make smaller no matter how I tried to rationalize it.

     Pulling myself off the floor, I staggered as gracefully as I could to the couch and sank down into the cushions. It was softer than I expected and knocked me off balance - my torso flopping down so I was laying on my side. The top of my head was pressed against Jungkook's thigh but the energy to move or feel embarrassed had been entirely drained out of me.

     "Oh my god," I laughed, feeling delirious, "I could just fall asleep right here.". And I felt Jungkook's hand patting the top of my head, ruffling my hair as he laughed with me. "Aw, little sleepyhead." he said sympathetically.

     Yoongi's voice cut across the room, annoyance clear in his tone. "You could just go to sleep in my room, you don't have to stay out here.".

And I jerked myself upright, feeling my throat close up with constricting nerves. He was letting me stay at his place and barge into his life, the last thing I wanted to do was make him mad. I looked to Jungkook, unsure what to do. But all I got in response were big doe eyes, puffed out cheeks and a beer.

     "No, I'm okay. It's really comfy in here, you guys have a nice place." I mumbled out with burning ears. I cracked open the beer and didn't have the nerve to look at Yoongi. Was I sleeping in his room? With him? Yet another thing we hadn't discussed. This was beginning to feel like a fever dream.

And at the same time, it was too real to feel like a dream. They were too real for it to feel like a dream.

If that makes any sense at all.

     A thunder of footsteps interrupted my thinking as two new boys ran into the living room. One, an absolute cherub of a man and the other looked like he belonged in an art studio. The cherub stepped across the room to lean down and hug me, "I'm Jimin! You must be our very special guest, welcome to our humble abode!".

     The artist followed after Jimin, bowing a full 90 degrees before theatrically posing like a hand model, "And I'm Tae. Charmed I'm sure.". He wiggled his eyebrows at me and we both laughed. I responded with my "nice to meet you's" and "thank you for having me" before looking more closely at Tae.

     "Hey! We have the same beauty spot!" I exclaimed, pointing at my cheek with one finger and his with the other. He briskly strode over and sat next to me on the couch, grabbing my hands and pulling them to his chest. Looking deeply into my eyes he finally breathed out a line meant for romantic drama's, "I knew it. You must be my soulmate..." and I couldn't help but play along.

     "Oh my darling, I never dreamed this day would come but here you are - right before me!" My voice shot up an octave as I dove into character. Fluttering my eyelashes until my eye twitched.

      Jimin and Jungkook chuckled while Tae smiled widely at me, giving me a nod of approval before reaching to grab a beer.

     "I like her Yoongi. She's fun." Jimin threw out while grabbing his drink. Yoongi grunted in response without looking away from his computer. Unsure of what to do, my eyes drifted over to the workout bar hung in the doorframe between the living room and kitchen.

     "Hey, what's that for?" I asked as calmly as I could, taking some sips of beer in hopes of selling the "normal girl" act. Jungkook's eyes lit up and he bounced off the couch, Jimin gracefully (and immediately) flopping down to take his place. "It's for cool shit like this!". The exclamation was followed with Jungkook pulling himself up on the bar, demonstrating what I imagined to be every single possible variation of a pull up. I don't know what got into me, I couldn't even do one pull up. But I set my beer down and stood up before saying, "That's really cool, but can I try something real quick?" And Jungkook dropped down, smiling excitedly while he moved back to the couch.

     I reached up and grabbed the bar, jumped with tucked knees in order to flip back and lifted my feet up so I was able to hook my knees back over it. Once I was secure, I let go of the bar with my hands and wiggled my fingers, "Ta-da!" I beamed. And the three boys on the couch erupted with supportive applause.

     Hobi came running out of the kitchen only to shriek with surprise as he nearly collided with my dangling upper body.

     "Wow! Okay, are you hungry? I'm making ramen. Anyone?" he pushed my torso to the side like a curtain to peer out at the rest of the group.

     Yoongi raised a thumb and the others affirmed before Hobi nodded to himself.

     "Ok, someone go check if Jin and Namjoon want some. How about you?" He squatted down to look up at my face and I nodded. The sudden realization of not eating anything all day sent a wave a weakness through my body and after Hobi moved back to the kitchen, I unflipped myself. Trying not to sway as I waited for the blood to leave my head, blinking out sparks behind my eyes.

     While Tae had gone to check on the other boys, Jungkook and Jimin had started a conversation that I didn't want to interrupt. So I grabbed my beer, one for Yoongi and walked over to where he was stationed. If he noticed me nervously settling next to him, he did an excellent job not showing it. His focus was glued to the screen and he hadn't budged from his position on the floor since he got there, shoulders hunched over and lips pursed in a concentrated expression.

     I sat in a version of child's pose, propping myself up on an elbow before handing the beer to him and taking a glance at his computer screen.

     "Here you go. Thank you again for all of this, I, um. Is this what you're working on for the show?" I felt like I had never put words together in a sentence before. He grabbed the beer from me without taking his eyes from the screen, opening it with one hand to take a sip before setting it down.

     Unnecessarily hot of him.

     In response to my question, he nodded and continued with his work. Maybe if I had been less tired I would have been worried about him not wanting me there. Or that I was invading his space or distracting him from his work. Maybe it really was just my delirium but, a comfortable silence fell between us again. I had no idea what he was doing but I liked how he looked while he worked.

Until the sudden awareness of our proximity to each other rippled through my body like an electrical current.

     The heat coming off of him radiated through both jacket layers and settled deep inside my chest. I pretended not to notice his knee in my peripheral vision or how his hands looked moving across the keyboard. I sat up to drink more beer, to try and get some space and unintentionally brushed his shoulder with mine. A jolt shot through denim and fuzz, sending shivers down my arm and into the pit of my stomach. We both remained motionless, staring straight ahead until Jin and Namjoon came shuffling out of the hallway.

     They both looked down at us, Jin smirking and Namjoon smiling gently. Like they knew something we both didn't. I bit the metal rim of the beer can and felt my cheeks flush without knowing why.

     "Look at you lovebirds." Jin cooed, laughing when I covered my face with my hands. Too scared to look at Yoongi I stood up and swallowed down the rest of the beer. Fighting for my life to keep from looking at him, I stuck my tongue out at Jin and shook the emptied can, asked a question of redirection - "Where should I put this?" and he reached out to take it from me.

     "I got it. How about you get another one and chill out, you're the guest after all." Jin raised an eyebrow at me before walking into the kitchen and I looked to Namjoon confused. A shaking of his head was the only reply he gave before walking me back to the couch. On the way, he gave Yoongi a poke with his foot but Yoongi didn't budge.

Instead, his grip crinkled and dented the beer can as he glared straight ahead.

     It was luckily only a few minutes later that Hobi and Jin came out with the ramen for everyone. After dispersing bowls and new beers we all quieted down to eat, aside from little jabs being made here and there. Hums of appreciation for the food and burping competitions carried on while Yoongi stayed where he was.

Just to be clear here - it didn't bother me that he was doing his own thing, in fact, I admired it.

      It bothered me though, that nobody had given him a new beer or a cushion to sit on. It couldn't be comfortable to sit like that for too long. Checking in on him felt so instinctual and impulsive, I couldn't help myself or recognize it as strange considering how little I knew him. I didn't even stop to question it. As quietly as I could, I walked over and placed a beer by his side, taking his empty and now mangled can back with me. I trekked into the kitchen and found the recycling, taking in the odd antiques hung around the walls, the different pictures and polaroid's stuck to the fridge. These weren't just roommates living together for financial reasons or to fulfill a contractual obligation. This was a family. One that I had never known or experienced before.

This thought lingered with me after settling back down but I still found myself glancing back at him within seconds. He was shifting back and forth on his knees trying to find a comfortable position.

     Turning behind me, I grabbed a pillow and walked back over to him.

     "Here." I held the pillow out and he turned to look at it. Yoongi paused for a moment, before nodding and taking it, placing it under himself and adjusting his position. His thank you was quiet and deep, and I tried to keep it in my mind, replaying it as I found my way back to the couch again.

     When I got there, 6 smirking faces greeted me. I didn't even think about them noticing. Goddammit.

     "Cute," Jimin said, "I can see why he wanted you here.".

     I threw my hair over my shoulder and huffed indignantly,  "I don't know what you mean in the slightest.". But the fight wasn't in me for long enough to contemplate what Jimin had said. Excited, new, nervous, scared - there was no kind of energy that could keep me awake any longer. And as soon as I sat back down on the couch between Jungkook and Tae, I started to fight to keep my eyes open. The sound of conversation and the coziness of the house lulled me to give into sleep. Muscles in my neck gave out and I dropped my head onto Jungkook's shoulder. My head felt too heavy to lift so I stayed there. And Jungkook didn't move away or flinch or tell me to move. He simply adjusted his shoulder to alleviate any strain on my neck.

This is nice, the thoughts floated through freely, I'm glad I'm here. I'm glad I came.

     "Ahem.". My eyes flickered open at Yoongi's fake coughing sound. He was standing up, grimacing at me with his hands pressed into his hoodie pockets.

     "We should really get to bed now guys," He said, staring directly at the place my head was resting on Jungkook's shoulder. "C'mon.".

     And with that he turned and walked away down the hallway.

     I glanced around at the boys on the couch who were looking at me with raised eyebrows and poorly concealed smiles.

Okay, I guess he means he and I are going to bed now. Nervousness fluttered in my chest, dampened by sleepiness and the beers.

     "Do you want me to help clean up or anything?" I fumbled both the question and while standing up. Rattling the cans on the table and steadying myself on Jungkook's shoulder. One of his hands reached out to grab my waist while I found my balance, earning a "what the hell dude" look and head jerk from Jin. He quickly dropped it and I pretended not to notice as I made my way around the table.

     "You're the guest little lady, don't worry about it." As he said it, Jin shot a wink and finger gun at me. I winked and finger gunned back, thanking them all again and saying good night before turning to the dark hallway.

     Exhaling as deeply as I could, I walked towards the open door to Yoongi's room. Straining my eyes in the dark, I took in the sight before me, watching it expand as my vision adjusted itself. More art covered the walls than in the living room, a guitar and keyboard were in the corner with an amp and loop pedal, chords swirling around each other on the ground. A mattress lay on the floor next to a big window, moonlight was shining through it and spilling onto the blanket, turning it a moody shade of blue.

     Yoongi stood by the mattress, looking at the floor even in the darkness.

     "Which side of the bed do you want?" He asked with an exasperated tone that would've gotten to me if it had done a better job masquerading his consideration for my comfort.

     "Um, by the wall please." Was the only appropriate response I could manage to come up with. The one that didn't include all of the reasons why. I threaded my fingers together after getting out the words, the thought of sleeping next to him forming knots beneath my ribs.

     He nodded, barely visible and quickly muttered, "Ok, go get washed up then get in bed. I'll go after you.".

     He held out my backpack for me and I quickly grabbed it, turning towards the bathroom in a rush. I was grateful for the opportunity to go on autopilot. The moment to breathe and have space to myself. To process, even for just a bit, even for just a few minutes. As I stood there brushing my teeth, the person in the mirror didn't look like me. There was a pink flush on the cheeks, the hair was messy, strands tucked haphazardly and parting in an unfamiliar direction. Maybe it always parted that way and I just never noticed before.

     Splashing cold water on my face, I looked at my reflection one last time.

     She's whoever she wants to be, I thought before nodding to myself like it was some sort of affirmation.

     The voices of the other boys zoomed in and then faded as I walked out of the bathroom back to Yoongi's room. He didn't say a word to me when I came in, just marched directly to the bathroom, leaving me standing alone in what felt like a sanctuary. This house alone felt like some special corner of the universe, a place where being yourself wasn't chastised or persecuted but celebrated and supported.

     And Yoongi's room to me, felt equivalent to a secret garden within that special corner of the universe. A place where things were grown, cared for, nurtured. A space where things were created and loved. I must have been standing there longer than I realized because Yoongi came back in only to huff at me.

     "Why aren't you in bed yet?" He asked it like I was an idiot.

     I shook my head to clear it, "I'm sorry, I was just thinking..." I trailed off without finishing the thought and made my way into the bed. Facing the wall, I felt the weight of him laying down next to me and my heart skipped a beat. He tossed a heavy blanket over me and said a coarse goodnight before falling still.

     I rolled over, realizing too late that he was closer than expected and my body hugged against his back. We both jumped before he scooted away from me. And I remember feeling grateful that he stayed turned that way in that moment, because I froze, staring at his back in the darkness. I was in awe I guess, that this beautiful person had let me into his special place in the world. That his friends had accepted me so genuinely. That all I had to do was ask and here I was.

    His voice broke through the silence and I held my breath, clinging on to every word.

     "I'm happy you're here.".

[nightmaredxydreams]

theres no way i have this.

look, heres all the proof you need. im whining about not having DID lmao

who truly has DID and does that? no. body. thats all the proof you need

people who truly dissociate suffer from it. i dont. i love the numbness from my body that experiences so much discomfort (not even chronic pain not even pain like all other DID systems have just fucking discomfort, mostly caused by autism hypersensitivity) i love the feeling of being detached from my own flesh prison ugly undesirable embarassing body. i am fucking faking im prob psycho or sum shit lmaooo

i dont even dissociate that badly. other real DID and even OSDD systems be out here so dissociated they dont even fuckin know their name and feel like nothings real all the time. i never forget my name or personal information, i just forget what i just thought or zone out daydreaming or sum shit and say "whoops! i dissociated sorry" or if im lucky, have few seconds long derealization in little few day long episodes. i dont even fucking dissociate for real. definitely not enough to have DID

i never had severe trauma. i was too disabled and shielded. fuck, the disabilities i was born with prob mimic DID. brain damage to the hippocampus, a majorly affected part of the brain in DID put two and together lmao. who knows how psycho the brain damage made me. im autistic and intellectually disabled, all people with intellectual disability are perverts they get arrested for sex crimes more than other people lmfao ofc i was hypersexual at 3 there was no sexual abuse i am too ugly to be sexually abused or even desired ofc im faking being sexually abused to make me feel better about myself lmfaooo i just cant live with the fact i was born a worthless undesirable unfuckable ugly pervert

if i had DID i wouldnt fucking remember when i was 3 who tf u kiddin

im sensitive to yelling and the least little "threatening" tone or touch or even fucking hand signal. if i was really sexually abused id be triggered by sexual shit, not the least little thing like a trauma free scared little baby

if i had DID id switch out more, especially when triggered or in situations where it would help. idk if i even switch out, i prob js fall asleep, wake up and do shit in the early stages of waking up i dont remember. instead my alters are just back there and do nothing when im being retraumatized and i have to call out mentally loudly to get any alters to respond anymore. then just trying to communicate with them gives me a headache from hell. proof enough my alters are delusions and im some psycho. most of my "alters" are just vague faces with voices and not much of identity. most of them fade away. just like delusions.

i feel like im worthless unless i was sexually abused. my whole worth depends on it for some fucked up reason. i will get defensive toward the two people i live with who say it didnt happen, they arent honest all the time but when they say theres no chance it happened bc i was too shielded even tho i have memories of being alone w him (no abuse memories bc fuck no) i believe it and feel iffy when i even wonder if i was sexually abused. when i think about any other form of abuse i suffered or trauma i have, i feel like that means i wasnt sexually abused. i have no memories of it, i never did until someone pointed out that my hypersexuality at 3 was a sign of sexual abuse so i went diving for the memories myself. then what i got were a few random half ass flashbacks to the sexual abuse. if i was really sexually abused i wouldve had flashbacks to it waaay before i made myself remember. everyone else with ptsd, did osdd etc does

other people with DID feel broken and suffer because of their trauma. they remember it somehow and suffer from the effects of it. i just suffer from wanting to have the trauma to be valid, not knowing if the trauma happened and having things trauma victims have but no memories of the trauma. the only flashbacks i have are to things i deserve, things that other people would agree i deserve and arent anywhere near as traumatizing as it can get for a real sexual abuse survivor. things that dont cause DID and rarely cause ptsd. i have cringe ass trauma. i dont have valid trauma.

i dont really have DID and i wasnt sexually abused. i just held onto the idea as an excuse for me being a worthless, born broken, jealous, delusional psycho pervert who will never amount to anything, never matter enough to get a job, marry or have a family, never mattered enough to be smart or do normal kid things because of my disabilities, never got to be cool and wont be, am trying to be cool and matter when i never will, am so ugly my body doesnt deserve love and sure as fuck wasnt sexually desired as a little kid how fucking sick of me to even want that to matter, and dont matter because of my disabilities. im sorry for faking it all. no wonder my denial was so strong, it was never real anyway. now im gonna do some major fucking harm to my ugly waste of space and resources body and kill myself. im fucking sick and tired of living in hell from my own brain torturing me saying im worthless and not valid and more i cant say here. good fucking bye.

[seeingteacupsindragons]

So, I'm stuck in the end of revision hell, and as I talk myself through the ending of this book, and

What choices and options I have

What elements of the Story So Far they'll tie back to

What pieces in the story I can reuse here to great effect

What the implication of all my choices are

What would really seem interesting

What would have the biggest dramatic impact

My coping mechanism is

"Thinking about the stories you like and the authors you admire having this conversation with themselves about their work."

It's just a little funny to imagine.

Miyoshi and Takeuchi talking over The Final Problem:

Okay, but how do we put William's birth name in there? He could sign the letter that way? But no, what if we just don't tell the reader because that's not the important part. Did Victorian London have birth certificates? And how would he know--What if Louis's was there, too? Why would we use Louis's? Doesn't he still...need it?

Fuck we don't have time to get them to Switzerland. It's just happening in London. It's fine. We already established John's books have lies.

How do we establish this guy from the back is Sherlock? Lmao let's make a joke about the ponytail. Oh, perfect.

Tsujimura-sensei, discussing volume 6 of Jeweler Richard:

If we finally deal with Seigi's family trauma here, it'll be this wonderful full circle thing and mirror him to Richard. I should. Maybe include a line about the mirror. You know. To make sure people really get it. But you know, actually resolving 20 years of trauma is going to take way too long, even with people all on Seigi's side and his Good Dad versus the Bad Dad bit, so the ending is going to feel weird. I can do a future story? It'll set up the next book, too. And it can show Seigi having dealt with this stuff so I don't have to actually write him dealing with it. That sounds like a good idea. It'll give the readers closure. Yeah, let's do that.

Sarah Monette, the end of Corambis:

Looks, Felix and Mildmay were not in a healthy place back in Melusine and they're never going to be, and okay, Corambis hasn't been great for them, but it doesn't have all the baggage. Look, Felix has been shown to like teaching and actually not be abusive when he's teaching, so we can make him a teacher so he's not dealing with all sorts of shit that keep dragging him back to unhealthy mental places. So he can just. Heal. I've got the bits here I need to show how he could be healthy and happy. I just haven't used them yet because that's not the story. But they'll be useful for a good ending here.

And such like.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

JJ and the Other Order - Part 3/3

Part 1 here l Part 2 here

tws for violent fighting, past trauma made current again, blood and torture, abuse, and mentions of domestic violence

Anonymous asked:

(Hey Marvin, was hoping to write a poem for you to offer some strength... Turns out I'm not much of a poet? Hold steady, shine bright, you're the clearest star at night... I don't know. That's just one hell of a thing you've offered. We're with you, Marvin the Magnificent.)

Marvin grins at you as calmly as possible, tucking the gun away. “Thank you. I… do find myself glad that you’re all here again. That you don’t mind seeing us, even if it’s not always sunshine and rainbows, here on the other side of the things Anti did to us. I think you’ve all seen us at our absolute worst. It’s strange, really, that you’d want to come back at all, years later. I didn’t expect it. Thank you.”

He turns to see the others joining him at the stairs. Jackie smiles at him and steps up above him, touching his shoulder as he passes.

“Alright, guys, no big speeches - let’s get upstairs and get this done. We’ve faced scarier jack-asses than a magical orphan with a god complex.”

Quintrell gives Jackie an extremely pointed look.

“Jackie,” signs JJ. “Not always appropriate to call people orphans.”

“No? Why not? No, tell me later. In any case, stick close to each other. We can’t let them fool us into attacking each other on accident.” He reaches out to touch JJ’s hair fondly, humming. “Will this make you hallucinate? I didn’t think about that.”

Marvin winces. He’s not sure JJ’s brought that up with Adrienne. Jackie forgets when there are people around who aren’t, well. Them.

“I’ll be no worse than anyone else,” replies JJ calmly. “Maybe better, since I’m used to having to parse through things that aren’t real.”

“Okay, then, that’s good. Everyone’s ready? Come on.”

Jackie leads them back up the stairs.

Anonymous asked:

Rationalizing with Cedar plus JJ showing him how bad it could get definitely seems like it would change his mind. Quintrell, I believe you when you say he’s still in there. He’s been through a lot of grooming and abuse from what it sounds like, and things like that confuse a human’s worldview a lot. Make sure you all can reality check him in a way that brings him back to himself rather than in an aggressive way.

“Maybe that is the best way to think of it,” mumbles Henrik. “Like… Chase, near the end. Completely fucking lost, but still in there. He just needed a chance to see reality again.”

“Okay,” says Marvin. “So we go in as graciously as possible.”

“But don’t let him hurt you, if you can,” whispers Quintrell. “He’s hurt enough people.”

Jackie pushes open the door to the upper level without further fanfare, and they’re back in the bathroom, and then back in the hallway.

Everything looks normal. Jackie beckons them onward.

“Now, that’s quite enough!” a voice calls out, and Adrienne tenses, straightening up. “You all stay right there.”

“Cedar!” she calls back. “It’s time we talked, come out.”

“Mateos already told me what you did! If you’ve killed Creighton - ”

“He’s fine, come off it.”

“He’s raised us since we were kids, and you’re turning on him now?”

“I’ve told you a thousand times what I think about him. Now it’s time we really talked, I mean it. Come here.”

“What do I do with you now?” You hear him ask himself, voice falling. “You’re just one of them.”

“Cedar. We don’t have to fight.”

“Unless you’re going to let Creighton go, that’s not true.”

“Just come here to me,” she says. “Fuck’s sake, Cedar.”

There’s a long pause on the other side of the hallway.

“Come here - alone - and talk to me, then.”

Adrienne swallows, shaking her head. “You know I can’t risk you doing something to me. You’ve come close before, on his orders. No. I’ll stay with Jameson, or I won’t come at all.”

The silence extends again - and then there is a shimmer in the air, less like a heat wave, and more like something moving that you just can’t see. Adrienne grabs JJ’s arm.

scunneredzombie asked:

Be safe, help each other stay grounded if he tries to put thoughts in you. You’ll always be too many to handle!

“Let’s just go to him,” Adrienne says, pulling JJ forward. Jackie holds out a hand in warning.

“That other one is here, too, if he’s spoken with Cedar. You can’t go forward without watching for him.”

He hefts his staff and strikes mercilessly across the length of the hallway, checking for invisible magicians. If all you have to do is touch to make the illusion go away, Jackie isn’t worried - he loves to hit things.

“So the corrupted one is your ally in this, then?” calls Cedar. “You led my sister astray.”

JJ doesn’t even pull his arm out from Adrienne’s to speak, letting her hold onto him. “He’s here to help me with things I had to do one way or another, Cedar. You used to agree with me, you knew things were wrong here.”

“I can start with him, then,” says Cedar.

Jackie swings out and connects with something, and he yells as it grabs his staff and kicks him in the stomach, stumbling him. He reaches up to catch Mateos’s blow - but instead of the dark-eyed magician, he looks up to blue and green.

“Now, now, darling,” says a voice much too familiar, even all these years later. “You are going to get yourself in a lot of trouble with all that, Red.”

“Cheap shit,” Jackie snarls. “You’re dead. And you never get to fucking touch me again!”

He lashes out, but the false Anti is leaping back, and he glitches out of existence, and then back in - a half-dozen versions of him, surrounding all five of them, armed with knives.

“I can see your nightmares,” says Cedar, from somewhere they can’t see. “And Mateos can make them real.”

“No, Jackie’s right, you can’t scare us with this,” Marvin snaps. “He’s gone, and this is all fake.”

“Not all fake,” says Cedar. “One of them is real.”

“I’ll fight all six,” says Marvin, lashing out with fire, driving Mateos’s doubles back. Henrik’s just as steady beside him, gun held low, eyes bright with focus.

But JJ’s eyes are closed, his hand wrapped up in Adrienne’s arm, and it’s as she turns to look at him that the view from the camera closest to him changes entirely.

You’re in a shed, on a mountain in Peru. It’s quiet, and dark, with only slats of gold light striving their way through and falling against the ground. Anti stands beside Jameson, looking perfectly human, even pretty with long hair and silver earrings. “There you go, pet,” he’s saying. “Doesn’t it feel good to let the monster out?”

At Jameson’s feet, Genesis is covered in flowing cuts. She hangs low in her chains. She’s never done anything wrong to him.

He is covered in her blood.

Jameson presses down on the weight of Adrienne’s arm in his own, turning away from the false Genesis. Cedar emerges from the walls of the shed, towering over Anti and Jameson alike, much taller than his sister. His eyes glow gold as molten iron.

“You came here trying to be her hero,” he says, voice quieter and harsher at the same time. “Trying to make things better for other people, is that your reasoning? Who are you to help anyone? All you are is a torturer pretending to fit in with the rest of the world.”

JJ never lets go of her arm to say a word, but he looks up at Cedar, mouth tight.

“You had your chance to make peace with Dapper,” Cedar says. “But I see what you really are - still just his Carver. And this part of you will never find any peace at all.”

JJ closes his eyes, but it doesn’t block the images out as Cedar begins to pull back old thoughts, memories, fears - you can see him coated in blood a dozen times, see corpses, see innocents tortured into screaming, see his brothers begging him to stop.

“Take your hands off my sister,” Cedar hisses. “Or I will show her exactly who you really are.”

JJ does not let go.

Anonymous asked:

You are strong Jameson. You are a good person who is loved by many. You were manipulated and abused into what you’re seeing right now. You will always be Jameson Jackson, and you have slapped evil in the face before.

“Jameson, where’d you go?” Adrienne puts a hand on his cheek and his eyes flash open, searching for her in the whirlpool of torture and death. Cedar shouts something you don’t catch, and then she’s suddenly standing beside him in a room slicked in blood, and she gasps and tries to pull him away, though the vision does not move.

“What is this?” she cries. “Why would you show him this, this is horrible. Stop it, Cedar!”

“He’s no better than Creighton,” comes her brother’s voice, shouting now, but tremulous; he sounds terribly young. Adrienne shakes her head.

“That’s not true, he - ”

In the memory, Anti pierces through the eye of his victim with a nail, cackling, and Adrienne shrieks, hiding herself against Jameson’s chest. Her horror seems to unnerve him worse than the memory, and he grits his teeth, something silver flashing through his gaze.

“Cedar, stop!” she screams.

From the other viewpoints, you can see Marvin grabbing both of them, trying to pull them out of their heads, calling reassurances to them. His attention is yanked away moments later as Henrik appears to collide with something real, lashing out as he’s grabbed.

“I’ll throw you all back into everything you ever escaped from,” says Cedar, appearing at Henrik’s side and getting a grip on his arm. “It will be easy. I’ve rarely met anyone with so many nasty memories to choose from. When I’m done with you, your minds will be so fucking broken they’ll throw you in asylum and leave you there.”

“Get off my brother,” Jackie howls, as Cedar shoves Henrik to the ground with a burst of gold in his eyes. Before he can move forward, however, one of the Antis is on him, and he turns into Mateos the second he touches Jackie - a silver knife still gleaming in his hand, slicing towards Jackie. Jackie grabs the blade with his gloved hand, and despite the extra protection, blood is flooding down his wrist moments later. Mateos shoves his weight at him and Jackie yelps, his hurt wrist wrenching.

Anonymous asked:

JJ, I think you need to use some of your power now. I think if he’s so obsessed with showing you your past, you should return the favor.

Marvin rushes to help Jackie, and Adrienne looks up at Jameson again, panting. “Can you do that now? Can you show him something?”

JJ looks around blindly, trying to ignore the victim at his feet. Where is Cedar? If he could get his hands on him, he could focus, and try to show him what he needs to see. But it’s so hard to stay oriented when he’s in his own past, and also the present, trying to bring his power to bear for someone else.

Anti’s pulling on him, chattering to him about what they’ll do next, and JJ feels winded and sick. He tries to get out of his brother’s grip, so Cedar changes the vision, and Anti’s strangling him instead of playing, shoving him back against the wall. Adrienne screams again and lashes out at him, managing to make the illusion weaken. Anti steps back and starts circling them.

“Did these things really happen, Jameson?” she asks, putting herself between him and Anti. “They didn’t, did they? You didn’t do things like that.”

He looks down at her and his mouth parts, as though he might speak for the first time in his life just to reassure her, but no words come out, and his free hand falls limp. She stares at him, her own mouth parted, her eyes wide, and she’s so present, then, so there to him, blocking Anti from his view. He grabs her face and she grabs his, as though moved by a parallel instinct.

Neither of them speaks, but for a second, locked together in a past countries away, her eyes light up gold with her power: not translation, as she has been told her whole life, but understanding, and she sees him.

scunneredzombie asked:

Are Jackie and Henrik okay??

Marvin practically tackles Mateos away from Jackie - you see the moment he flashes from invisible to visible again, trying to slip away, but Marvin’s got his hands on him too quickly. He doesn’t even pause to use magic, just starts striking, and Mateos yelps as Marvin rains a barrage of punches down on him, and then, when his hand flies out, Marvin bites him, hard.

Jackie’s cradling his injured hand, but he gets back on his knees and tries to grab Mateos’s knife. There’s a moment where all three of them are grappling with it, and it gives a lurch of power, leaping up to cut someone - all you see is the dribble of blood that comes down, but neither yells aloud.

“Truss him up like you did with Creighton,” Jackie calls. “With your vines.”

“Trying,” Marvin pants. “Just working through - a pretty vivid hallucination - of you dying.”

“What? I’m right here, Marvin, I’m right here. I’m okay.”

Marvin sobs and laughs at the same time, eyes burning with blue light.

Henrik’s laid out on the floor at Cedar’s feet, grabbing his head.

“So, you wanted catharsis?” someone asks him, and he can’t tell if it’s Cedar or Anti. “Pretty stupid for a genius. You’ll never get it, Henrik. You’ll never get the chance to kill the monster. You just have to live with his memory.”

He’s locked in a closet. He’s wrapped up in barbed wire. He groans aloud.

Cedar leaves Henrik there, stepping over him and towards Jameson and Adrienne.

Anonymous asked:

You can do this everyone. I believe in you. Quintrell tell him about the damage he’s done. JJ can show him how bad it could get. Communicate to the lost part of him that was horrified by what he did.

Jameson and Adrienne seem unaware of everything else, just for a moment, as words pass between them without either of them speaking or signing one. It leaves JJ flushed red and Adrienne bright-eyed and hopeful, and when she reaches out to touch the wall of the cell that they’re in, it disappears, and they’re in the hallway again, still together. She turns to her brother and sees Henrik left behind him.

“Cedar, you don’t have to fight,” she says. “Creighton’s done for, we’ve got him dead to rights. You don’t have to be his slave anymore. It can just be over. We can both start over!”

Cedar looks panicked as Mateos is subdued in the corner, but she calls to him again before he can intervene.

“You don’t have to hurt people anymore.”

“We’re better than people,” Cedar snarls. “We’re more than other people - more important, more powerful. There’s nothing wrong - ”

“You know there’s lots wrong,” she says. “You’ve always known that.”

“Creighton has taken care of us - ”

“When was the last time he even said a kind word to you?” she shouts. “He treats you like a weapon, Cedar, don’t be his anymore. It can stop, we can go home, Jameson won’t retaliate against you. Cedar! It was Creighton all along. Our parents - he wanted control over you, when your power emerged. It was always Creighton.”

Cedar looks struck in the face for a second, but he’s denying it just as quickly. “Is that what you think? Adrienne, fuck! It’s not true, he wouldn’t.”

“You’ve never seen him do worse?”

“Just stop talking!” Cedar cries. “You shouldn’t have done this, what will we do without him, what will we do? If he wasn’t right, then what have I been doing? Just stop talking!”

“Cedar!”

“I said shut up!”

And Adrienne, for the first time in her life, feels her brother use her power on her. She falls back, covering her mouth, unable to make herself speak.

It’s only now that Jameson lets go of her arm and stands in front of her, eyes alight.

“Don’t try anything,” Cedar snarls. “Sit down.”

JJ winces and nearly falls to the floor, but he manages to stay upright. Cedar’s expression only darkens. “You want to try that again? You want to fight me? There’s no one alive who’s ever been able to. I’ll make you cut your brothers up the same way you cut up everyone else, you fucking - ”

A gunshot goes off like a dozen cars backfiring at once, and Cedar screams like a wounded animal.

Henrik pants from his position on the ground as Cedar crumples. “Memories,” he growls. “Now live with the memory of me in your leg for the rest of your life, arschloch.”

Anonymous asked:

cedar you wanna listen to your sister maybe???

It’s Cedar’s turn to writhe on the floor, sobbing and gripping at his ankle as the blood starts to flood. Adrienne makes a noise, but still can’t seem to speak, and she doesn’t rush forward to help him, either.

“No, no,” Cedar screeches. “It’s all coming apart, everything. I want to go home. I’ve been good, why are you punishing me when I’ve been good? I do everything I’m told. This isn’t happening!”

Anonymous asked:

Fuck yes Henrik, man you deserve to take down at least one monster. Live with that memory, Cedar. Learn something from it. You are not invincible, you are human just the same.

“Yeah, how’s that for catharsis?” Henrik hisses.

He’s shaking hard. He can still feel the wire in his face, his scars aching, but fuck it. He survived it once. He pulls himself to his feet, the gun still clenched in his hands.

“You try that again and I’ll kill you,” Cedar rages, staring up at Henrik with pure hatred in his face. “Stay away from me!”

With the full force of his power, Henrik turns ashen and steps back against his will, shaking his head.

“Why don’t you point that in the other direction?” Cedar hisses, and Henrik’s mouth parts in a silent gasp, the gun shaking in his hand.

Jameson kicks Cedar directly in the head, shattering his concentration in half.

Henrik’s able to stop, but instead of pointing the gun at himself, he drops it. Without the safety on, it goes off again, and somebody screams, but the bullet impacts the wall. Henrik falls to his knees in shock, grabbing his chest.

Anonymous asked:

oh my god guys. alright this is going.... great

henrik are you okay

cedar just. stop for like 5 seconds man. there's really not much more that you can do right now

-🪷

Henrik is tracing the trajectory of his gun with his eyes, following it to the impact spot in the wall, only a couple feet from Jackie and Marvin. They’ve managed to knock out Mateos - don’t look too closely, because they might have strangled him a little gruesomely - and now Marvin’s shaking against Jackie’s side, holding on to his brother.

“I’m good,” Henrik manages. “JJ… would have… would have reversed something bad anyway. Right? Fuck.”

Jameson pins Cedar to the ground, pressing him down hard, his eyes full of warning. Adrienne comes to stand tentatively over them, touching JJ’s shoulder. Cedar’s still cringing and showing his teeth, but getting kicked in the head and shot can start to weigh on anybody’s passion.

“It’s okay, C, it’s okay,” Adrienne says breathlessly. “Stop trying to command them or we’ll have to stop you, do you understand? What were you thinking, you could have killed him…”

scunneredzombie asked:

Cedar, if you can see this then listen. You need to listen to your sister. I think you know, even just a bit, that you have been groomed into this role, into this hate. He killed your parents in order to make you his and he’s been controlling you since. You used your power on your sister, Cedar. You are acting like a monster. But you are only a monster on behalf of another person. You need to make a choice here - do you love your abuser more than your sister? Does your sister matter enough to change yourself? That’s your family, Quintrell is your family. Creighton is the killer of your parents and abuser of your sister.

“What, you think I’ve been here secretly b-beating myself up over everything I’ve done?” Cedar wheezes, eyes rolling as he looks around at all of them, at you. “You think I haven’t enjoyed it? You’ve never had the high of being able to make everyone around you do exactly what you want. Creighton’s trained me. I don’t care if you think I’m a weapon - what I am really is a god, and everyone else is an ant.

"Creighton didn’t kill our parents, Adrienne. He found the people who killed our parents, and he sent me out after them. If that’s why you turned on him, you can still un - un - ” He groans around the pain in his leg, tears leaking out of his eyes. “Can still undo this. Our parents were loyal to the society, and outsiders - like this fucking corrupted changeling you’re letting cling to you - they’re the ones who attacked them. They’re the ones who have always wanted to hurt us. I have tracked, commanded, and tortured those outsiders every chance Creighton gave me - and loved every minute of it.”

Adrienne’s shaking her head at him, her fingers wrapped around JJ’s shoulder. She looks at Marvin for a second, eyes huge - but he looks back at her and nods back at her brother, directing her down to him again. She breathes in deep.

“If he told you that, he lied. He always wanted your power on his side. You know him better than I do, Cedar. You know what he’s capable of. And I know you have had doubts, ones you’ve whispered to me where he couldn’t hear. I know you’ve looked away when he’s hurt me, because you couldn’t stand it. I know you’ve tried to get away with not doing things he’s told you to do it. We can find a better way, Cedar, really. It’s not over. You don’t have to be this way. You could have some peace.”

Cedar licks at his mouth, face getting paler. “There’s no such thing as peace.”

Adrienne sets her mouth and turns to JJ. “Go ahead,” she signs at him. “Please.”

From the way he looks back up at her, she thinks he sees her too.

Anonymous asked:

You sound like a bigot Cedar. That’s what this cult is. Bigotry and hatred. ‘Outsiders’ don’t exist, every single individual person you’ve hurt was a person just like you, like it or not. He’s made you into a real dickhead, bud.

“So, what, then?” Cedar pants. “You can’t take my views, can’t admit that there are people in the world who are just better than others, so you’re going to kill me? Adrienne, you’re going to let him kill me?”

It would be more demanding if his voice didn’t break. She shakes her head at him. “They’re right. This isn’t who you are. But - no. I’m not going to kill you. I would never want to kill you. You’re my brother.”

He looks at her in astonishment, still losing tears to the pain and the terror of the situation. “Don’t let them hurt me, Adrienne.”

“He’s not a corruption, Cedar. He’s an antiseptic.”

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up for a second, but he lets it be.

the-earnest-system asked:

Chase was able to fight him too, though I guess now that technically never happened. You’re all used to fighting off mind magic, he’s never dealt with that before, apparently. He’s got nothing on you

“Get off me,” Cedar tries.

“Dude,” warns Jackie loudly. “I’ll do worse things than kick you in the skull if you try and tell my brothers what to do.”

JJ throws his head for a second, taking in a deep breath. It seems like a moot point - Jameson won’t listen to him. You’re right, of course. They’ve had practice in resistance. It brings back terrible memories, but… that’s all they are. Memories. And JJ’s the one who’s in charge of those, not Cedar.

Anonymous asked:

Ok, ok, things getting calmer. A, does Cedar still need to be able to talk, or can we gag him while you talk or something? For everyone's safety?

Henrik’s already pulling the first aid kit out of JJ’s bag, which is nice of him until he wraps the gauze around Cedar’s mouth. “Should I wrap his leg now?” he asks, without enthusiasm.

“Give him a moment,” Adrienne says. Henrik steps back.

Adrienne sinks to her knees beside Cedar, her hand staying on JJ’s arm.

“Baby, what are you planning?” calls Marvin anxiously, getting to his feet. “Be careful. Timeline stuff - it’s dangerous, and you’ll exhaust yourself worse. Are you sure this is what you have to do?”

JJ smiles up at his brother - and winks with a silver eye.

Anonymous asked:

Paths like this will lead to magical fascism, and this way of thinking will lead to never ending pain for you and all the innocent blood you take - People who wanted nothing but a home, people with the human right to safety. Cedar this mindset will only lead to pain. You will never have peace if you continue to do this. Quintrell is offering you a chance at peace. Appreciate it. I hope Jameson shows you how much you are fucking up.

It’s several minutes later that Cedar is crying on the floor in his sister’s arms, turned completely away from you and buried in her stomach. Henrik finishes wrapping his leg grimly, cleaning blood up with a wipe.

“Think he learned his lesson about magical fascism?” he asks.

Adrienne looks up at him, slightly dazed herself, and definitely exhausted. After a moment, she nods. Henrik squeezes her arm warmly. “Then he could still find that peace you were talking about.”

Jackie and Marvin are tending to JJ in the room the hall leads to, having set him in a big armchair that is now stained with the blood running from his nose. Jackie’s holding a tissue up, helping him stem the flow, while Marvin sets a glass of water down beside him and touches his leg. “Going to be okay, there, kiddo?”

JJ nods, sighing out.

“It really did turn out to be that fucked up,” Marvin murmurs, glancing back down the hall at Cedar, Adrienne, and Schneep. “Like, at first I figured, okay, typical British white people shit. But that… the cameras are right, this was some serious cult hatred, and Creighton was older. He could have been doing this a long time, and no one was able to stop him. Except you, I guess.”

Marvin looks back at his little brother. “You’ve known about this for a long time, huh?”

Jameson nods again, holding his hands up in a shrug.

“How long have you been working on this plan of yours?”

“Months… well, for years I’ve been thinking about it. But it took me a long time to get to a place of stability. It was just so horrible to know it was going on and, like you said, there wasn’t anyone able to stand up to him alone. I just was able to find all the right people to help me.”

“JJ,” says Jackie, wiping at his nose. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

He looks up at them guiltily, twisting his hands together for a moment. “Look… I needed to do this alone. And I know that you think that’s stupid, but - well, Marvin did it, didn’t he? When we first got free, and you were having a hard time - you left us all and found the Lapwings. And that’s - that’s part of your purpose now, being a part of the magical order in your country. Helping lead it, repair it, make it better. I know you guys worry about me quitting jobs so much, but I just didn’t have any feeling of purpose there. And the organization that helps me get jobs is great, but so many of the people I work with will always just know me and treat me as the psycho who can’t talk, and who gets to work here for the tax break.”

“JJ,” warns Marvin softly. “Let’s be nice to ourselves.”

“I know, but I just - there was a problem and I needed to fix it. And I didn’t want to do it with your help, I’m sorry. I wanted you to see me as a leader. As a man. I can be capable too.”

Marvin looks stricken. “Of course you can. Have we made you feel - ”

“You guys have all gotten so much better about it,” JJ cuts him off. “But I have lived for a long time with that feeling that I can’t do it alone, and I… I needed to set this up myself. And I did bring you in when I needed you, you can’t be mad!”

Marvin looks like he could, in fact, be mad, but he deflates instead, reaching out to cup his brother’s face for a second. Jackie pats his head like he’s a cat.

“I think you were kick-ass today, James,” he says. “And if you do decide to lead this order, I think you’ll be a great leader. I can respect you as an adult, but you are also, permanently, my babiest brother.”

“Oh, joy.”

Jackie starts kissing his head exaggeratedly, and JJ shoots you a look of exasperation. Marvin grins and lets him go. “I’m going to go get Max and Chase, and bring that fucker Mateos downstairs to the cells.”

“Have Henrik wrap up that cut first,” Jackie tells him.

Marvin covers the scratch down the side of his chest, having torn through his shirt. “It’s not so bad.”

“Henrik, go, now,” says Jackie firmly. “There, see? No matter how adult you are, I still get to boss you around sometimes.”

Anonymous asked:

We're with you, Jameson!!

“Thank you for that,” JJ signs, as Jackie releases his nose and sits down beside him. “For being here, just because I called. It means a lot. And now, I do want to lead here. Marvin is right. This should never have been allowed to happen in the first place. There was no oversight from anyone outside, and when the ‘outsiders’ were mistreated, they had no one to complain to. I think it’s time that we start talking about communication and unity internationally for magical orders. Marvin will help me establish a relationship between England and Ireland - I know, who would have thought? - and then I want to spread. Even in Singapore, when Anti attacked and killed so many there - we should all care about each other as magicians. There’s so few of us in the whole of the planet. These tiny groups with powerful leaders are dangerous. We’ll make change.”

“And Mateos?” Jackie knocks his head at him. “I’m concerned you can’t keep him permanently in a cell.”

“No. I believe he’ll run into trouble with the law as well from the evidence I’m compiling, but he will have to be dealt with on our terms. When I’ve got my strength back, I’ll offer him timelines too. He can go home to his wife and kids if he likes, but if he causes me trouble, I’ll make sure he knows what I can do to him.”

scunneredzombie asked:

You all did so well at this. JJ you’re the best person I could think of to lead! I know you feel that everyone still sees you as weak and small - as all the stuff Anti ever called you. But I hope you can see how powerful you are & always have been through leading. You’re really badass Jay, and you’re so amazing as a free man!

JJ lights up, a shy dusting of pink coloring his face. Jackie looks down at him proudly for a moment, clucking his chin. “Hey. You know that even if you never did a bunch of bad-ass magical shit or lead a country of sorcerers, you still wouldn’t have been weak or small, right?”

JJ smiles wearily. “Yeah.”

“Even if you did just work at that aquarium for the rest of your life, or if you couldn’t work, and we put you back on disability, that’d be okay.”

“I know, Jackie.”

“And if you have a problem here, Jamie - if your psychosis becomes a problem or if there’s just anything you need - you can ask for help, or you can quit and come home, or anything, and you’ll still be an adult, okay? Same grace you give Henrik when he can’t work.”

JJ waters up for a second, biting his mouth. “Okay, Jackie.”

“I know you can do it. But it’s okay if you don’t, too. That’s all. Okay, give me a hug.”

JJ complies, and they wrap together. Jackie murmurs something to him and rocks him for a moment, holding his head.

“And now, my wrist is really annoying me, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to go sprint in a couple circles of the building before I start screaming.”

“As you do.”

scunneredzombie asked:

Check in real quick, how is everyone and who has what injury?

Max and Chase come rushing up the stairs moments later, with much the same questions. Chase’s face is dark red with crying, and his mouth starts trembling again the moment he sees his twin narrowly skirting a pool of blood.

“Schneep!”

“Chase, why are you crying?” Marvin asks.

Chase nearly starts again. “I’m so sorry, I should have gone with you - I heard the gunshots and thought - I should never have left you alone, I - ”

Henrik gets up to hug him, patting his back. “We’re okay. Only bad guy got shot. And for good reason.”

“Are you sure? You’re shaking.”

Henrik just clutches him harder, shaking his head. “Don’t ask me now or I’ll get stuck.”

It’s what they call it when Henrik stops talking or responding. Although it’s been progressively less frequent since he first came out of the fugue he was in after Anti’s torture, it still happens.

“Marvin, you alright?” Max asks, a little harried.

Marvin looks tired, too. “He scraped my chest up pretty good. I really think it could have been worse, though. We all had visions, but he didn’t command me and Jackie to do anything.”

“And Jackie, he’s - ”

Jackie goes racing past them. “Hi, tiger!”

“He’s good.”

“Yeah, just double-hurt his arm.”

“Oh, great, he won’t be jittery at all for the rest of the week.”

“Pretty sure he’s going to crash for - ”

“About three days? Yeah, we’re going to have a lot of cozy time in bed after this.” Max winks at Marvin. “Hey, I can take care of him too.”

“Oh, you had to prove that before I let him move in, don’t forget.” Marvin shrugs at the cameras. “Jackie’s independent too, but if you think I was going to let him move in with someone who doesn’t even give him a weighted blanket when he’s melting down, you must take me for a fool.”

Adrienne is helping Cedar up onto one foot, and they all pull back in surprise, but Cedar doesn’t try anything. His face is dull and tormented, his eyes fixed on the floor. Instead of tall, he just looks gangly now, and younger, but weighed down.

“Just going to sit him down,” she says. “We’ll get a cab and go home to my apartment. Couldn’t bear to stay in this place.”

“Are you alright, Quintrell?” asks Chase.

She smiles tightly. “Mind your damn business.”

Chase cracks up, shaking his head. “Fine, whatever. Take care of yourself. We can stay in touch, can’t we?”

“Don’t see why we would,” she says. “But I guess maybe sometime, if you’re in town, we could meet up.”

“Sure thing,” says Marvin, amused. “Hey, uh, I’ve still got your…”

“Keep it,” she says wearily. “I don’t want to ever see it again. And, um… thank you all… very much. I wanted to do this for so long, but I never would have been able to, without…”

She glances at JJ down the hall. “Without all of you. Thank you. For giving my brother back to me, and setting me free.”

scunneredzombie asked:

Jackie mentioned food before this - And I think you all deserve the biggest greasiest take out meal you can order

“So,” calls Adrienne, and they all turn to see her translating for JJ. “He says he didn’t want to be too demanding socially or whatever, but just in case everything turned out okay, he did reserve a whole rooftop at a restaurant near Max and Jackie’s.”

Marvin cracks up. “A restaurant while we’re all looking like this?”

“Who’s going to stop us?” Chase grins. “We can cover up the blood.”

“He says you really don’t have to if you’re just tired or want to crash,” Adrienne adds. “He was just trying to think of ways to end the day nicely, if things went okay. You can definitely get something to go if you prefer.”

“Jackie!” shouts Max.

Jackie comes running up to him again, panting. “What?”

“JJ got us a private place at a restaurant, but he says we don’t have to go. You want to go home and get take-out or do you want the restaurant?”

“What kind of restaurant?”

Adrienne looks at JJ. “Indian food?”

“Yes!” shouts Jackie, so loudly Chase winces. “Unironically, not joking because my husband’s Indian, that’s the BEST FOOD EVER. Do you think Anti ever got me naan?”

“I will get you all the naan you want,” Max offers.

“If it’s private, let’s fucking do it.”

“I’d be up for it,” says Marvin. “Actually, I was going to ask if we can all kind of stick together tonight anyway. I’m, um. I’m kind of shaken up. Max and Jackie, do you think…?”

“We’ll stay in the guest room,” says Jackie, wrapping his arm around Max’s waist. “We can all take care of each other tonight.”

“Thank the Lord, I’m not ready to think about anything,” sighs Henrik. “Let’s go get food.”

“As long as you let JJ pay for it, he says!” Adrienne calls.

Jackie squints. “We’ll have that argument when the bill comes.”

Anonymous asked:

'Ey Quin, in all seriousness, you've got some people here who have some experience in some of what you and your brother are going through. Keep brushing off as you'd like, but they (and us, if we're on!) can be a resource. Take care of yourself!

And goes double for the boys, well done! Time to also take care of yourselves!

Max, Jackie, Chase, Marvin, and Schneep meet JJ, Adrienne, and Cedar in the hallway. JJ grins up at them. “Will you guys wait for the car upstairs? We’re going to have our first meeting of the British magical society for, oh, five minutes.”

“Top secret,” Adrienne agrees.

“Yeah, I need the sun on my face,” agrees Jackie, already moving past. Chase pauses to touch JJ’s shoulder fondly, and then all five of them give them their space.

Cedar’s slumped back in another armchair with his eyes closed and his foot suspended. Adrienne turns to JJ, suddenly looking on the verge of collapse.

He smiles back at her softly, just as tired.

“Going to be okay tonight?” he signs.

She closes her eyes and breathes in, out, in, out.

“Tonight,” she whispers. “I’m going to feel every feeling it is possible for a human being to feel, and then five more.”

He laughs. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us?”

“Oh, I couldn’t force you all and him into the same space again, and I won’t leave him until he’s… himself again.”

“The others are right, that’s all. You’re not alone in this. Even the most ridiculous parts of it.”

“Right.” It’s her turn to laugh. “Yes, I… I saw.”

There’s a moment of stillness between them before JJ lifts his hands to sign again. “You know, even my brothers don’t know the full extent of the things I went through with Anti. You’ve seen a lot today that I never told you about. If you don’t want to see me again, I’ll understand.”

“Jameson,” she breathes out.

At this point, you’re pretty sure they might have forgotten that Marvin left a camera next to the armchair where he’s sitting.

“I did see a lot, and I also saw… every moment you fought. And everything you’ve done to fight since. And…”

She pauses herself, eyes watering, covering her mouth. She almost retreats from it, for a second, her expression damming up, but then she lets it go again, looking at him with big eyes.

“I happen to think you’re incredible,” she whispers, and he starts turning pink again, looking down at his lap. “And I hope Cedar can be like you now. Can recover. Can be better. But even when you were with your monster, you never hated anyone the way Cedar does, and I - I just think - ”

His hand reaches out, and she takes it. For the second time tonight, she looks up at him with gold eyes, and they communicate without words.

She breathes in. So does he. They breathe out together.

“That, um, file,” she says.

JJ blinks.

“You asked about it. I know where it is. Let me grab it real quick. Come on, you can just wait here.”

She brings him outside a room and leaves him by the door while she steps inside, both of them out of Cedar’s view for a moment. She re-emerges with a stack of papers for him, and he puts them in his backpack without looking at them. They look at each other for a moment, and he brings his hands up again.

“I don’t mean to overwhelm you, when you’ve had too much to think about tonight already,” he says. “But, I happen to think you’re incredible too - ”

It makes her smile, and then frown because she smiled, and then smile again. “Jackass,” she whispers.

He laughs and presses on, stepping a little closer to her. “Adrienne, do this with me. I need a translator, but you know this society too, and you understand so much that I don’t, and I… need your help the way you needed mine to do this.”

“You’d really like me to lead with you? I’ve been in this order since I was a kid and nobody ever gave me responsibility.”

“That’s just because Creighton was scared of you.”

She looks lighter now, smiling at him. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” he says. “I didn’t want you to feel like I only cared about one thing.”

“What thing?”

Jameson pushes her back against the wall and kisses her, and she grabs him by the hair, and they both wrap together like one person, just for a moment, suspended in time.

yayyyy okay so I will just leave that there for tonight and then tomorrow or this week (I have Memorial Day off so probably tomorrow) the brothers and Max will all go have a lot of naan and talk and take care of each other. so that will be the last scene, but there should be time for wrapping up lots of different things, and it can last as long as we still have questions or things to talk about with them.

thank you so much for today! It was definitely the hardest section to write because I was worried about the mind stuff being tricky, and I might have had to really torture the boys there, but I think everyone kept a level head and things were resolved about as neatly as they could have been. I hope you enjoyed.

Anonymous asked:

(Yaaaay also, thank you Bee!! I can imagine it being a hard section to write, so much of it was in the boys' heads and also from an outside perspective, but it went really well and was awesome to read and be a part of!! Looking forward to cooldown time and naan and samosas for the boys :) )

thank you!! glad it was fun! It helps a lot that this audience feels very low pressure so I appreciate that. I wish there was good Indian food in my town so I could actually eat Indian food while writing about them eating Indian food lol. highly recommend for anyone else

Anonymous asked:

I’m really proud of all of you. Definitely crash for a week after this, a lot of triggering stuff happened.

“It was awesome, Max, he totally threw Schneep down and I was too busy with the other guy to get up and kick his ass, but he started going after JJ and Henrik just pushed himself up and shot him, just no remorse, he’s always been that way - ”

“Jackie, sh, there is a cab driver. And be gentle with your wrist!”

“Marvin hasn’t used his powers like that probably all year, have you, Marv? Oh, what’s wrong?”

Marvin leans against the window, turned away from Jackie and Max, holding his head. The adrenaline’s wearing off, leaving him feeling a little sick.

“Marvin?”

“M'fine,” he manages.

“Are you lying?”

“A little.”

Jackie quiets and looks at Max, who shrugs back at him.

“Still want to go to dinner?”

“Yeah,” Marvin croaks. “That’s all I want, some food and a drink.”

“Okay, honey.”

Marvin smiles faintly. He always calls Jackie honey when he’s overwhelmed. He’s glad they all got tangled up in this together, at least.

JJ’s in another car with Chase and Henrik - they decided not to risk public transport a second time. “Should I not have dragged you all into this?” he asks eventually.

They look at him from either side. “Course you should have,” says Chase. “We’d all walk through fire for you.”

“And we knew we didn’t have to come along to any part of it we didn’t choose to,” Henrik adds. “We’re glad you’re safe, James.”

JJ puts his head down on Chase’s shoulder and closes his eyes til they get to the restaurant.

scunneredzombie asked:

Lots of adrenaline going on for sure back there. Food and drink will help you calm down & recharge, but then all of you remember to rest and take a few days off work. Some of you seem a little retraumatized by the sudden extreme danger, so make sure your brains get reminded that you’re safe!

The rooftop of the restaurant is cool and lit with strings of bright gold light, like a chain of fireflies in the darkening air. Their server is swift, unobtrusive, and decidedly amused by Jackie practicing his Hindi with him. Pretty soon they’ve got drinks fizzing with ice and steaming hot plates of food spicy enough to distract them from just about anything. Jackie’s buzzing, JJ’s pre-occupied, Max is content, and Marvin’s trying to maintain an acceptable volume level for everyone while Henrik and Chase chatter to each other at the end of the table.

“What did you show that guy anyway, JJ?” Marvin asks.

Jameson looks up at him, sticking a samosa in his mouth. Some of the crumbs fall into his beard and he brushes at it before replying.

“Ghost of Christmas Future,” he offers, and Marvin laughs. “A little of what could happen on his current trajectory, a little of what could happen if he went home with his sister… but then I was just thinking about their parents, and… I saw this timeline where they hadn’t been killed. Just for a minute, I pulled them both over there. And they were able to hug their Mum and Dad one more time. See that they were proud of them, that they never wanted them to become like Creighton, that they would have helped Adrienne to make positive changes. That they would have helped Cedar to be… not a monster, and just their son.”

“Shit, Jay,” murmurs Marvin, glancing at him askew. “That’s… quite a gift. The sort of thing that can really change people’s lives.”

Jameson shakes his head slowly, sighing out. “But will they ask me again, someday, and I’ll have to explain that it’s too dangerous, and that it takes too much out of me? Will they spend time, now, wondering about what could have been, instead of what is? And what if I had snapped something on accident?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and Marvin watches him muse, spinning his straw around his drink.

“Marvin?”

“Yes?”

“Do you… remember anything about that spell Anti did to you in Colombia?”

Marvin’s face falls instantly, drawing back from the table. “Don’t ask me about that.”

JJ’s mouth pinches and he shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been thinking lately that maybe this is… too much for me. For one person. Too much power.”

He looks down at his hands, and then away again, shaking his head.

scunneredzombie asked:

What do you mean, JJ? That spell could have killed him so I don’t think doing magic like that would be any sort of good…

“Yeah, that shit was fucked,” says Marvin shortly. “I still trace some of my health issues back to that. It couldn’t help with this. And it hurt Anti and me both.”

“I just feel like it might be better if there was some way for me to… siphon some of this off,” JJ says. “I really have done things that have changed the world, and whether or not they were for the best is difficult to say.”

“When you snapped the timeline, you protected Jack from Anti. He was never able to find him again.”

“Yes, and Jack also forgot about us. Even Dark forgot about Anti, who thought of them as an ally and then some. Is that right? I didn’t even do it fully intentionally, I wasn’t even on the right meds then, I - I just wanted something and it happened. It’s too much, Marvin.”

Marvin puffs out a long, slow breath, mulling it over. “Well, darling, I don’t know. We can ask around. Even if you could give some of your power to someone else, though, they wouldn’t be any safer than you.”

He scoots forward to pat his back, trying to grin reassuringly. “You’re a good man and you’re well under control these days. I would be happy to help keep an eye on you. But I really think you might be the safest person in the world to carry this.”

Jameson smiles sadly back and nods. “Thank you. If you could reign me in if I ever needed it, I would feel better.”

“Anything for you, pet.” Marvin steals a forkful of his curry and grins.

scunneredzombie asked:

Is there a reason you feel like you don’t deserve it Jameson? If anyone in the world has to have such a big power, my first choice would be someone like you. You’re so intelligent and kind, so loving with a soulful way of viewing the world despite every bad thing done to you to try and change that. With great power comes great responsibility and all, and you are quite a Peter Parker type.

“Thank you very much,” says JJ, smiling. “That’s sweet of you. It’s more that I’m not sure anyone should have this much power. Feel like I’m carrying the nuclear football.”

“That’s a little dramatic,” says Marvin. “Whether or not you should have it, you do. There’s no getting out of that. The spider bit you whether you like it or not. And you’re handling it just fine. Okay?”

Jameson grins at his plate. “Okay. If you say so.”

“I do. And I’m always right, as we all know.”

Jackie scoffs from the other side of the table. Marvin flashes his grin over to him. “Got something to say, tough guy?”

“You’re so full of it,” says Jackie. “‘Always right,’ my ass.”

“I will fill your chicken with nettles.”

“So, it’s been a full four hours now,” says Chase, checking his watch. “Are we still fighting?”

Henrik tilts his head at him, sighing and slumping back in his chair. “No. Let’s just talk about it.”

“I don’t know, man,” laughs Chase. “I’m not sure I want to hear your opinions on this any more.”

Henrik plays with his glass of water, letting the ice clink. “Even if I admit I might be… a little jealous of Ash?”

Chase lights up, shaking his head at him. “You bastard. Only took you about two fucking years. Dude, I make lots of time for you, don’t I? I just - ”

“It’s not that,” Henrik holds up his hand to pause him. “It’s not because she gets your time or your focus or already knows what you like as well as you do. It’s because she’s what I said - she’s normal, and I’m never going to be. Hearing Cedar talk about outsiders - I guess I learned that from Anti, that outside people weren’t safe. That normal people are boring and can’t understand us, and we need to keep our distance. And that’s what I’ve done. I’ve spent the time since we got away from Anti just… trapping myself in the house. Like you said, in my safety bubble.”

Chase groans. “No, Schneep, I - I shouldn’t have said what I said. I should have supported you when you said you wanted to go to Peru. Of course you have to do that, and if you can get out of that bubble, that’s great! The truth is, I’ve been, uh. Feeling sensitive about Ash because… last month, Stacy gave me my wedding ring back, and now I’ve been thinking about the future a lot. And how you don’t like her, and maybe that means I should end things. You do know me better than anyone. And if you’re going away for six whole months… what if you’re not here to help me figure out what I want?”

Henrik looks at him, aghast. “No, I… I just wish I… I wish I could be a normal person, that’s all. You can decide things yourself.”

“I don’t want you to be anything other than who you are. And I don’t know, can I? I’ve made some terrible fucking decisions about girlfriends and friends in the past. Sometimes, I only feel safe at home too.”

scunneredzombie asked:

You can make your own decisions Chase. Taking away all your own choice is how Anti abused you, he wanted you to feel helpless. Every decision you make for yourself and every way you be your own person is a victory over that abuse.

“Chase,” calls Jackie. “Give me more rice.”

“Come here and get it, dork,” Chase taunts. Jackie comes over to them and steals the rice perfunctorily, pretending for a moment that he’s going to shove Chase’s face into it.

“What are you guys talking about?” Jackie asks, peering at the cameras. “Making choices.”

“Yeah, talking about girls and international volunteer work,” says Chase. “You know, the usual. I want to be able to make my own choices, just… I get nervous. Doesn’t everyone?”

“How’d you decide you were ready to marry Max, Jackie?” asks Henrik, setting his chin in his hand.

“Wanted to. Never wanted anybody else. Knew he wanted to, too. Had the rings already, easy. Easy decision. He’s good to me, I’m good to him, we like to sleep in the same bed. It’s harder now, though. It’s almost like bigger decisions after you get married.”

“Like what?” asks Chase. “You guys still thinking about moving to London?”

Jackie frowns. “I’m not supposed to talk about it because it’s personal. He knows I overshare everything else.”

Chase and Henrik laugh.

Jackie looks back at Max, and Max is smiling at him fondly, eyebrows pressed slightly together.

Anonymous asked:

You did well today everyone. I hope the food is good.

Do you think Henrik going to Peru is going to happen? I hope you two feel a little better about it, as hard as it will be. I really think getting out and fixing people up again will be really good for you Schneep. Avoidance seems to be your brain’s response to distress or triggers, so working through that by being out and helping others is a good idea.

“Yeah, I avoid,” Schneep mumbles, picking at his food. “I avoid and hide in my room, and then everybody worries I’m depressed and makes me pancakes.”

“I make pancakes when you’re happy too,” Chase protests.

Henrik chuckles. “Look. Ever since you got the job in town, I’ve wanted to be there with you. To get my credentials back in order and be able to go be your doctor again, because I know it’s what you wanted. But I am not up for that, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I think I need to go to Peru, to be with people who aren’t my siblings, but who understand some of what I’ve been through. Who can help put me out in the world again. Help me help other people. I’m just… really, truly sorry I haven’t been able to be there with you at work.”

Chase nods, looking away. “You know, Schneep, when I first started working, you still weren’t able to leave the house at all, really. I honestly thought, at the time, that you would never work in medicine again, maybe never work at all. And I think I got too excited when you did start working from home. I’m really proud of you for the work you’re already doing. And I’ll be really proud if you go to Peru too.”

Henrik sighs out, rubbing at his head. “Thank you. I just want to be on the same page as you again.”

“We can be on the same page. We can text everyday, like the cameras said. Maybe I can come out with you for the first week, what do you think?”

“Would you really?”

“I’d love it, Henrik.”

Schneep gets up to hug him, pulling them into each other, where they fit together just right. “You’re sweet, thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, zwilling. Now good luck telling Jackie.”

“Oh, great.”

scunneredzombie asked:

Are you a little better with food in you, Marvin?

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

He sits back, watching the others get engaged in a conversation about pickleball, which, apparently, Chase’s coworkers want him to try. This evolves into complaints about how hot it gets around here, discussion of whether it would be weird to use Marvin’s mirrors to take a whole vacation sometime, and ideas for the fire brigade’s community awareness event, which Jackie is adamantly refusing to help Max plan.

Marvin doesn’t feel like talking.

“Sometimes I really don’t think I’m improving at all,” he mutters to you, taking a long drink. “Sometimes I really don’t.”

scunneredzombie asked:

You are though, Marvin. You aren’t in such a bad way you’re constantly triggered by your family being near you, you’re leading a magical organization, you were brave enough, and had enough healing to, offer to kill someone to spare them what you dealt with. Improvement is not a line, it’s a squiggle, and it’s just as messy as one. You’re happier and more lovely in so many small and big ways, but because you see yourself every day all the improvements are in your blind spots. To us, with such a time jump, it’s very apparent you’re getting better!

Marvin’s face clears a little, shifting in his seat. “Is it?”

He examines himself for a moment. “I know I look better. Not just literally, I present better, I mean. Pretty good about panicking in my room instead of in public. Pretty competent leader. Pretty powerful.”

He slumps again, rubbing his hands together. He lets his fingers grow flowers, blooming into his palms and around his wrists. “Maybe this is just a down day. But I guess there have been some things not going so well lately. Just been tired a lot.”

His brother-in-law is picking his way towards him, evidently having picked up on his mood. “Hey,” Max says. “Doing okay?”

“Fine,” replies Marvin wearily.

“You need to go home?”

“When everybody else does.”

“Jackie thought you maybe saw some bad things, with the magician.”

Marvin drinks again, face darkening a little. “I wish guys were nicer, Max.”

“You don’t have to see that one again, Marvin.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Anonymous asked:

What did you see Marvin?

“Just - just while we were pinning that jackass down, he was making himself look like Jackie. And I was strangling him. It was hard to distinguish who was who, and - and I could just feel that same itch in my head again, that itch where Anti would get in. How can people be so cruel? Anyone? I always want to believe that Anti was just so otherworldly and plan evil that nobody else could compare. But there are people who do cruel things every day. It’s terrible. How am I supposed to get out of this… fucking cycle of feeling awful when there’s awful people around every day? That whole organization was so twisted. I would never do that to my people. I can’t imagine.”

Max leans down to murmur something to him, rubbing at his shoulder. Marvin just buries himself in his drink, something stronger than soda.

Anonymous asked:

I relate honestly, Marvin. I also feel personally responsible somehow for evil people, and knowing that people are being hurt just like I was every day is horrific. You need to shift your focus smaller, if that makes sense. Focus on your family and community’s safety and joy. Try to be so kind and overflow with so much love to those around you that it makes up for the evil elsewhere. Shine bright enough that those in pain can take shelter and warmth. The cycle will always try to drown you, but if you’re surrounded by love and light and support.. it makes it easier to feel ‘fine’ instead of awful.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Max agrees, sitting down beside him. “You do a lot already, Marvin. You help the magicians in your country out all the time. Aren’t you tutoring like four kids? Only one of them your niece?”

Marvin smiles weakly, nodding his head.

“And now you can help JJ with this other order. So you saw some bad things today, and bad things keep happening in other places. But you do lots of things to put light back in the world too. Even just in this family, you still try so hard to take care of everyone.”

“Anti made that my job,” Marvin whispers.

“No. You did that before Anti. Don’t let him take it from you. Just keep being a light. Not everyone’s cruel.”

Marvin sighs, glancing over at Max. “If I tell you something, can you not tell Jackie?”

Max frowns and looks over at his husband, teasing and grabbing at JJ on the roof, apparently trying to steal his fancy jacket for whatever reason. He looks back at Marvin after a moment. “Just this once, I think.”

“You know that guy I was going out with? Taylor?”

“Yeah, we went to lunch that one time. He seemed cool. Are you getting serious?”

“No.” Marvin clears his throat. “Two weeks ago he punched me in the face.”

Max’s face creases and then stills. You see him stabilize himself, breathe in. Then he reaches out to pull Marvin into his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Marvin.”

Marvin clings to his brother, hiding in his shoulder.

“You didn’t tell anyone?”

He shakes his head against Max’s shirt.

scunneredzombie asked:

Oh Marvin, I’m really sorry. Was it only the punch, has other stuff been going on too? Are you okay/safe?

“He hasn’t bothered me other than that,” Marvin mumbles. “He doesn’t know where I live, of course, because of the whole magic house thing. He threw me to the floor and… yeah. But it didn’t even hurt. The bad part was that I was just Blue, again, in that moment. I didn’t fight him at all. Just laid there until he stopped shouting. And I’m a fucking fire-wielding magician, and I was just - ”

“Marvin, don’t do that.” Max holds him steady, trying to make him meet his eyes. “Don’t ever blame yourself for what he did.”

Marvin shakes his head again, ignoring the others starting to give them looks.

“I didn’t want them to know,” he whispers. “Jackie would be so angry. And I’m so ashamed.”

“There’s nothing - ”

“I know!” Marvin grits his teeth. “Logically, I know, but I still… feel… bad.”

the-earnest-system asked:

Sometimes blaming yourself is easier because the alternative is that something bad happened and it was completely out of your control. Even when you logically know the latter is true

Marvin’s whole face tenses, and his eyes well up. “Fuck. Get me in the jugular, I guess.”

Max laughs weakly and clutches his back, putting one hand in his hair, and for a second Marvin feels totally cradled, like when Jackie used to try and hold him close enough that Anti wouldn’t even see he was there, and they’d hide all night, together.

“It happened and it was bad, and now he can’t touch you,” Max tells him. “Neither can the other magicians, or Anti. It wasn’t anybody’s fault but theirs. And I need you to sit with that truth, okay?”

Marvin whimpers. “Okay.”

“Did you tell your therapist?”

“No.”

“Start there, will you? And maybe think about if you want to tell one of your brothers, in a while, so somebody knows. I don’t want him coming around again.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” chokes Marvin.

“What do you need right now?”

Marvin’s eyes flicker around for a moment as he swallows. “I just wanted you to know.”

“I know. The cameras know. Everybody’s just glad you’re safe.”

“Thank you, Max. I think you’re going to be such a good dad.”

It’s Max’s turn to darken, pulling back from Marvin slightly. “He told you?”

“He said he was allowed to tell one person.”

Max is smiling now, despite everything. “I think we’re finally both ready to do it.”

Marvin kisses his cheek. “You are.”

scunneredzombie asked:

You were not Blue, you’re still always you, bud. But your brain did have a major trauma response. It’s called ‘fawning’, and a bit of ‘freeze’ too. Appeasing, surrendering to what they do, appealing to and submitting to the abuse. You learned it was the best way to neutralize danger when you were Blue, and your brain does it in response to any danger now. It’s not your fault and it’s not you being weak at all. It’s the way your mind is protecting itself in the moment.

“Hey.” Chase is coming their way, bringing Marvin another drink. “I just caught the tail end of that, but I do the same thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I freeze. Half the reason I’m not an ER nurse.”

He leans down to hug Marvin too, because it feels like the kind of night for that. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Do you think we can all just watch movies on the couch tonight? Just together?”

“Course we can.”

Marvin sighs. “How can somebody as powerful as me still freeze up when I could kick the ass of anybody who tried to hurt me?”

“That’s what he taught us, like the cameras said,” shrugs Chase. “But we move forward anyway.”

By the time they’re all done eating, pulling each other into conversations about nothing and screwing around on the roof they have just to themselves, the lights of the city winking around them, it’s started to feel almost like a normal night, and maybe that’s for the best.

Max rubs Jackie’s back as he starts to crash, his head drooping over the table, no longer up for talking at all, but smiling and holding Max’s free hand under the table. Henrik and Marvin are drinking a little too much in one corner, feeling better with a buzz they rarely allow themselves, while Chase shows JJ the latest pics of the kids at the table, picking at the last of the korma set out for them.

“Well, do we head home?” asks Henrik.

“All together,” JJ signs, smiling at his siblings.

“I’ll call a couple cabs yet again,” agrees Max.

“And the cameras?” asks Chase. “Do we… turn them off now?”

Everybody pauses, glancing around at you, and there’s both hesitation and memory there. How many nights have you ended with them, days like this one or even much worse, days when they had nobody else to confide in but each other and the black eye of camera that could talk to them from far away?

“No,” says JJ finally. “We can at least take them back to the house. And when they’re ready, they can… hang up, so to speak. They’ve done a lot for us today. We don’t mind talking a little more. We don’t mind having you back again.”

When they end up strewn about the living room of the magic house, you’re there in the middle of them, watching Fantastic Mr. Fox and listening to them chatter on every side, about nothing, about everything, about the future and the past.

You are welcome to send any asks you like til the weekend, and I’ll wrap things up then or when I feel like everybody’s said everything they want to say. Thanks <3

Anonymous asked:

I hope you do continue to give light Marvin. You shone bright as a star long before Anti, and I can’t see you ever dimming.

Marvin smiles to himself, standing in the kitchen for a moment and looking over his brothers, arranged around on their couches. The house is so full of plant life it seems to breathe with it, the night stars are visible through window on the ceiling, and the cats are slipping through everyone’s legs and rumbling their satisfaction up at them.

“Small confession,” he says. “I was the one who didn’t think it was such a good idea to turn the cameras back on. Sorry. I guess… when we turned you off, I wanted to leave everything Anti in the past. I’ve always done that, trying to push the others to let go of things. And I wanted to let go of you too, because I wanted you to think of me in the sun like I was that day, feeling so much better. I didn’t want you to know that sometimes I still have really hard days. Sometimes I still relapse to bad habits or pick out a guy who treats me like shit because the adrenaline does something to me, I don’t know.

"But I think these days I’m ready to admit that this is going to be a journey I’m on for the rest of my life. Not just recovery, but discovery. Progress and new projects and new insight into myself. It’s hard sometimes, but I do want to keep shining. And I’m never alone, because… they’re here, growing with me.”

He gives you a soft smile in the dark of the kitchen, the TV light illuminating him in white, just for a moment.

“And a group of strangers across the world, who cared about us when no one did - and still do, inexplicably, impossibly, wonderfully. Thank you, for that. For everything. It was nice to reconnect. Now I’ll think of you all too, wherever you are - shining your light to the people around you, helping out somebody in need, with your great capacity to care for someone just because you never want anyone to feel alone. I see you, starlight.”

Anonymous asked:

Hey Henrik, I hope you know how loved you are. I hope you know that these dorks would love you just as much if you were still hiding with dissociation, love you just as much if you could never work, just as much if your recovery takes longer on your journey. I know being ace and feeling unloved for so long probably combine in nasty ways, it did for me. Its isolating, scary. But you haven’t been alone this whole time. Your story isn’t a love story, but there’s love in it, on every page. I really hope you make some friends and get a piece of yourself back on that mountain. You deserve to know how spectacular you are again. Dok needed to forget for survival, but I hope you, Henrik, love yourself so much Chase teases you for your ego for the rest of your life. &lt;3

Henrik’s curled up in blankets in their loveseat, petting Noodle heavily, making him vibrate with satisfaction. Henrik stares down at their cat for a moment before smiling up at you, eyes soft.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I do sometimes wonder if they’ll all get married someday and then I won’t be as important to anyone. But things change, and change, and change, and still… they take the time to care for me. To love me. To tell me I’m important. I will never be alone. I will be brother, uncle, friend. My family expands, I fear the changes - and then there are just more people to love, who love me back, who are a part of me, and I a part of them.

"And I do hope to make friends. I - I plan to make friends. I will. I’m tired of hiding away. No more doom and gloom. I’m ready to be in the sun again.”

He pauses, tilts his head, squints. “Although, with lots of sunscreen. Peru is right on the equator, and I am very white.”

scunneredzombie asked:

Thank you for letting us see you again, you are all so beautiful and doing so good. Even in the dark times there will be singing… Even when you’re having lows and hurting, you’ve all grown so much and found pieces of you that were taken. When I look at you, I only see Jackie, Marvin, Chase, Henrik, and Jameson - the things Anti tried to make you into never mattered. Your brains made you shelters and safeguards under those names, sure, but not a single one of you ‘died’. You’ve always been you, just you. And I’m very glad you have the safety to be yourselves freely now!

Everybody’s about fallen asleep by the time JJ gets up and grabs his backpack, signing something about going to put on pajamas. As he rises, he glances around, grinning at Jackie half-buried against Max’s chest, Chase and Marvin covered in popcorn bits from the war they started over the remote, and Henrik drowsily petting Noodle. They’re all bandaged up now, tired and sore, but full, cozy, together.

No, they did not die. Here they are. And JJ, who has caught glimpses of other possibilities in dreams, in fragments, he knows that that is a lucky thing, a beautiful thing - and that you were a great part of it. It’s why he couldn’t leave you behind today. They were created under your gaze. Shouldn’t you witness every rebirth?

Jameson wanders back to his room, putting down his pack and beginning to take out the things he brought: a well-used medical kit, snacks, an extra camera, an old gold knife once melted down to the hilt, and that file that Quintrell gave him, marked with the symbol for the British Magical Order. He pauses to open the file, glancing through it and setting it down on his desk, only then remembering that your camera is still there, looking at him.

“Ah,” he says. “You’ve caught my last mystery. But that we must save for another time. It will take a lot of discussion between all of us to decide what to do. If you see him, though, say hi to him, okay? Being able to keep him safe was the greatest thing I ever did - but I took his creations from him, too, and the more time goes on, the more I begin to feel it must be remedied.”

The first page inside the folder has a familiar face smiling at you, marked at the top with the words “Class Twelve Magician - Non-Native Resident - UNAWARE, DO NOT ENGAGE.”

Beneath it is Sean’s name and contact information, including an address in Brighton, just a mirror’s journey away.

“That will have to be all for now, my friends,” Jameson tells you. “I better get my brothers to bed. Take care of yourselves, won’t you? What would your cameras say to you if they could watch you through the dark times? I think they would tell you to be very kind to yourself. And that better things will come, and come, and come, every time the darkness seeps in again. And have you eaten? And have you slept? And do you know that nothing you have done makes you unworthy of peace and affection and a warm cat in your lap? Those are the things you’ve always told us, no matter what.”

He’s looking away now, looking up at the stars through his window, and you can tell his mind is already drifting to other things. To the future, to his brothers, to the order he will lead and the people he will care for, to his first real girlfriend, who might let her kiss him again if he’s gentle, to everything that could be and will be and stretches before him like a path through meadows and mountains.

“Yes,” he signs distantly. “I’ll have to let you go. It’s bedtime, and then morning will come, and so, so many things with it. Isn’t that exciting?”

They turn the cameras off one by one. In the living room, they are hugging each other good night, and Peanut is licking the popcorn bowl.

End continuation.

Thanks so much for reading. I loved writing this and for @lehhoh7822 to compile it was such a great gift. Thank you!!

[danmeiconfession]

I hate transmigration. I used to like it but I don't not anymore. I feel like after the craze of so many danmei and other works using transmigration especially quick and world-hopping transmigration I started to despise it. I honestly started to feel like the characters they are playing are actors and the ML's fall for it and sure they reveal it but like I felt like it was a lie. I can't explain well but I don't have much interests in stories of characters being in someone body especially stories they have no connection with because they are outsiders for lack of a better term and them acting as the host for points to survive. What stakes are there for me to read if these characters know the future and then oh whoops here we go again they suddenly changed the course of the story and got the villan or ML to fall for them. I hate the family drama which is something I really like in original stories but knowing that the MC just has no care because we know they aren't connected with the family and ML and a lot of the times they're a cannon fodder in a dogblood drama but the feeligns they exhibit on the outside is so fake just makes me quit as a reader. Like system stories be doing that so much lately that the one story I read that didn't had the system I fucking liked it because they weren't bound to follow through their course. I hate stories that just have that stupid system who are so cruel to their hosts for no apparent reason to motherfuckers if I were there I'd rather they'd send me back because no benefit in the world will I allow myself to be degraded and talked shit to by the system and fictional characters I read from a book once.

I hate sickly beauty MC's too. Just putting it out there.I'm a face con but damn it is that all there is to you fainting dizzying spells lol?

Also these systems just be for real liars because the MC only joined them for benefits like living in a world they want to choose or to go back before they died. But, it's a lie I theorize these systems just be pulling shit because these psyco MLs be jumping across every world who the fuck signed up for that? The MC's be doing their due diligence and work hard as hell to earn points just for me to find out their access was denied.

I'd love to one day see a series where an MC so aware of this stupid system crap they just rather go back to their resting place instead.

Another trope I hate: I fucking hate danmei MC who willingly allow themselves to be walked over I get trauma but what person wouldn't punch their white lotus siblings in the face for it? Especially the men they choose just makes me roll my eyes you want to die fine but choose a finer man or make them regret making you a substitute.

.

[killyjae]

Just some stupid Christian shit.

I'm a Satanist, and I've been a Satanist for pretty much 10 years now. I live in an extremely red state, and one of the worst ones. This is a real shithole that practically everyone I knew fled as soon as we all graduated, except for my ex who is just as psychotic as I am.

Anyway, I go to a pentecostal church sometimes just for fun. I'm respectful because the person who takes me was helped by the church with her addiction. She feels like god saved her, yada yada yada, good for her. No one there knows I'm Satanic, and the friend I go with is gay and he's probably the only one who knows I'm a lesbian. I keep my Satanism a secret because I could get in very big danger from the rednecks here who bring guns everywhere and pray for a second civil war. We all know religious freedom in this country is bullshit.

A couple weeks ago at that church, my friend cried because he was suddenly afraid that he would be judged by his painted nails, and he approached one of the reverends, and I followed. I intend to hear everything these people have to say. The reverend told my friend that he paints his nails because the gentiles and the devil pressure him to. Gentiles, pressuring a cis man to paint his nails in this society? Really? And they all, as a hivemind, told my friend that he needs to stop that and devote his life to serving god, and all I could do was silently watch and give no input, because rebellion is the biggest sin of them all to the church. They demand total obedience. I got to show my friend support when we were alone, and I brushed the ordeal off because, frankly, that's the shit I have to put up with 24/7 in this area. This is the norm for me. It wasn't until today that I realized how actually fucked up that was.

They claim to be a sanctuary, but they'll hound you if you're so different as to paint your nails. I won't even say what they told me about my septum piercing I wear with pride. I took everything they had to say with a fake smile. I've played this game my entire life, they can't hurt me. I will only smile and take it unless resistance is absolutely necessary, like if they were to hound my friend over something bigger, like his gayness. Then, I'll proudly stand against them in their own home.

I've gotten tame in my game against the church, now I just lie and smile, but when I was littler, I acted out against it. Now I work behind the scenes, but it was insane as a child. In a completely extremist Christian area with a small population, I was truly the one and the only one who actively said this wasn't right. I was regularly beaten as a child for my disobedience by everyone, so I was used to it. If it was the devil pulling me away from the church, so be it. The devil was pulling me away from my abusers, then. I was constantly told to fit in a box everyone knew I couldn't fit in, and if I didn't force myself to break myself to fit, then I was beaten and damned.

My psychosis which came from constant ongoing trauma was my punishment for my sin, a real sign that god hates me. I was only a child. A bunch of ungodly things happened to me at the hands of adults. I was only a child. And it was my fault. I'm broken and everyone hates me because I constantly rebelled. All I needed to do was obey to have a good childhood. But we know better than that. I think it was pretty hard and badass of me as a child to pretend I was a prince, I don't really know what for, and to take a marker to every Bible I was given, and write my own rules. My life is my own, and I'll gladly go to hell. If Christians go to heaven, then I want nothing to do with heaven. I am what I am, and nothing will stop that. I'm a rebel, and I will never fit your mold.

[wings-of-flying]

finished lockwood & co! thoughts time!!

the more comprehensible ones first. the visual direction on this show is fucking genius!! some highlights include: lockwood's outfit (i want that coat), actually being able to see shit during the nighttime scenes, the design of the house, the choice to make lucy wear blue all the time, the stupid little uniforms that kipps and his guys wear, the design of the ghosts, the dream sequence in like episode 2 (?), the red room, etc.

also i called joplin being bad from the second she opened her mouth, i think it was the music that clued me in. hate her. the show did a great job making me extremely uncomfortable when she was around.

i love lockwood. asshole in a suit, and he's got trauma that causes him to be cold and arrogant and distant? sign me the fuck up! he looks good with his own blood running down his face (and i can say that bc his actor is 20)

i knew norrie was gonna die (or something similar) the moment they started talking about future plans in ep 1. still broke me when it happened. the 3 years earlier sequence was probably the most intense introduction to what i thought was gonna be a somewhat typical ya tv show i've ever seen

love that the show doesn't pretend to be self aware, and in fact leans into a lot of tropes and clichés bc it works! if they were too afraid to be seen as too cheesy it would've ruined the whole show, so i'm really glad they weren't

flo <3

i really like the writing. it felt very natural to go from one arc to another, the characters felt tangible, their actions completely within reason for who they are and what they've been through. could've fleshed out winkman (?) a little. he felt a little flat, though maybe he'll make a comeback in another season

they're fucking children. this whole world is fucked. they make children fight fucking ghosts. fucked up world. hope that if they make more seasons this will be addressed in depth. they hinted at it here and there, but i need them to have a full a-plot conflict about it. i haven't read the books but i'm assuming this is a thing that happens in them (and if not they really fumbled the bag)

sorry thinking about flo again.....

thinking about lockwood again. he needs to be bashed in the skull with a 2x4. maybe that'll make him normal. i love him <3

god george reminds me of michael from be more chill. no clue if you've seen it, or listened to the soundtrack, but they're the same person

since we're on the topic of george, that guy is so fucking autistic holy shit! so is flo. autistic in two different directions

i'll probably have more thoughts in a few days, once i've allowed myself to process the show in it's entirety. meanwhile enjoy... whatever this is :3

yessss!!!! so glad you enjoyed it, i'm literally so insane about it at the moment!

all the stuff about the costumes and set design and lighting is just like!!! hell yeah!! we can actually see at night, which is great because that's when the majority of it's set

the characters are all so so great and i love them and they have so much depth and interesting things about them!!! have you picked up on lockwood's socks yet? they start off pink and then as the series progresses they go to blue to match with lucy!!!

and the world building!!!!! you've probably gathered by now that i'm a sucker for good world building and this show!!!!!! has it!!!!! i really fuckin hope we get another season so we can see more of it (but also i'm gonna read the books soon so i'll know if the shit's all addressed)

george is so so autistic. and i get what you mean about flo, very true tbh

how did you feel about the slow burn romance? because i'm obsessed with it! how their hands always touch for a little too long etc

also i can fix kipps. yep. i can make him better. he grew on me towards the end and now i love him. pathetic man. falls exactly in my type

AND YES!! the intro shit was so!!!!! it was just!!! ahhh!!! norrie and lucy 100% had some gay shit going on. and it was so tragic and ajaavqghshshshs

the skull!!! i love/hate it! it's just so funny and silly and evil and manipulative!

and yeah with joplin i had a feeling from when she started talking with george. i was literally calling out 'grooming! grooming moment!' whenever she was with george. and the ending with the bone glass!!!! omg i went insane!

the winkman shit was terrifying, especially the auction. literally gave me goosebumps. but it was all worth it for the locklyle scene with lucy calming him down when he had a panic attack!

anyway as you can tell i'm not normal about this show

[insufferable-talkstuck]

hey callie (if that's your name), i hope you don't mind me submitting an entire essay of sorts so that you could, you know, classpect me. i've seen the stuff you've been posting here on this blog of yours, and i can't help but like it. so uhhh, let the trauma dumping begin, i guess? i'll try not to take this too far, so i'll give you something more palatable to read. if i do, feel free to call me out for it like you did over mentions of politics that other people did.

so...how would i describe myself as a person?

dude, i wish you had a format like a list of questions or something. is this dumb for me to complain about because by being this open-ended, you're giving other people the choice to say what they want to, with those choices ultimately providing a subtle kind of information that may or may not make your readings/analyses more accurate? probably. am i going to complain about it anyway? well, i just did, even though i'm not usually one to actively complain. that translates to absolutely, by the way. all this text is just a transcript for my thoughts while writing this. no wonder this has gotten out of hand so quickly. but look on the bright side: there's more for you to analyse. fuck yeah to that. :)

back to the question: one thing i can say about myself is that i go on tangents and can get sidetracked easily (see the above paragraph for explicit proof). i'm also a very secretive person, especially in regards to my problems and my inner world. when it comes to that, i can't help but feel like i understand them better than how the external world works. to compensate for this lack of understanding, i tend to, figuratively speaking, wear different hats depending on the situation. usually, im quiet and lay low as i keep an eye on what goes on around me, which i attempt to grasp by myself. other times, i do the exact opposite when i feel like i'm supposed to, mostly in attempts to get others to like me. i'm either too much or too little for the people around me to deal with. hell, i guess i could say i'm wearing a different hat right now through the way i'm typing in this ask, and that's mostly because i'm that fucking terrified of being able to be identified via typing style alone even if i'm anonymous. a person's gotta cover their tracks while admitting personal shit, you know?

so to cope with the fact that i find it hard to make friends due to all this, i've gotten used to isolating myself and being self-reliant, to the point where i straight up pretend to be stoic, cold, and boring to talk to out of well, a lot of things. these things include how i'm constantly terrified of social interaction, i'm afraid of hurting other people through whatever shitty choices and words i decide to make or say, and i can't help but feel worthless all the goddamn time. it even goes to the point where i tell myself that i should be so proud to be so "independent and badass" as a motivator to keep getting away with this despite having this deep, contradictory craving to have meaningful interpersonal relationships in my life, which i tell myself is stupid and that any attempts i make at it are bound to be a waste of time and effort to avoid dealing with it all together. and i suppose that also makes me a hypocrite by default. that's a big yikes on my part.

i also guess that according to some people i used to know, there's a side of me that can be best described as sassy, blunt, with a disposition of innocence and sunshine. i mean, i'm probably being incredibly sassy while typing this all out, aren't i? (which is intentional) if you find it hilarious (like some of my friends did), then i'm glad to hear that the interspersed shenanigans i've been pulling as i prose on endlessly about my flaws have made someone laugh. however, i don't fully buy my sunny, pure disposition as part of who i am as i can't help but feel that only developed as a way to avoid conflict, especially by preventing any sign of my problems and stress from leaking into the day-to-day conversations i had with them at the time. however, there were occasions where both my positive and/or negative emotions got so overwhelming to deal with that i accidentally snapped in front of them. even though i try to prevent those kinds of occasions from happening at all, i regret every single time i lose my composure like that without meaning to due to how i felt rejected every time i did that. and well, in my eyes, rejection scares the everloving shit out of me as well.

i've also been described as a "robot" and a "cryptid" on previous occasions and well, i don't entirely know how to feel about those kinds of descriptors. but i'm not complaining about it because being any of those things sounds badass to me when trying to be positive about it.

so yeah, i'd say that im a person that's damn good at usually playing the role of a stone-cold, sassy hardass with nothing interesting to offer beyond that while wishing it were the truth.

and well, i feel like i've talked enough about myself to feel the need to not mention anything else, so that's where i'll end this. like, i'm usually private about my interests, especially the ones i'm the most emotionally invested im (which can go to the point where I lie about them out of embarassment) and my aspriations in life are something along the lines of "i want to do all this cool shit, but i realistically don't have the energy for all that and worrying about what other people need from me is more important anyway."

hope you got something out of all of this. it was nice for me to type it out, even if all i did was talk about myself. but that's the point, right? and hopefully, i don't regret saying any of this. sorry if this was a long one to read, i hope that doesn't bother you too much.

Witch of heart

my name is Calliope, on this blog, nicknames are appreciated tho i find them sweet.

ah hem, you must excuse me, i am a little rusty, for i have not classpected in a while. But i "tried" my "best" here so take it however you will

you managed to talk about yourself while also avoiding talking about yourself. people majorly view themselves as.. a collection of titles, a community they're members in, interests, morals and their overall attitude twords the world. but you only talked about personality, which is certainly a rare case. No music or art that you're into? do you sit infront of a mirror all day and pass your time on..... self reflection ? you did say your interests are private so, maybe they're too private for even the classpect blog to know. how sad

i assigned you a witch of heart because, you're certainly a steriotypical heart player, from the way you're speaking. i do think I could manage assigning you a blood player with more information... perhaps hit my inbox again soon.

i struggled a bit for the class but then it was obvious, you change heart, you manipulate it to your given situation you put on a... hat. ( why did you say a hat of all things? )

✷ sometimes i add in a little bonus when the answer is too short, my guilt is practically eating me alive for responding with such a short classpecting sesh to such a big ask, but you did use a whole bunch of words to talk about nothing so, not exactly in my pay range to fix my reply, I will say i think you're the first person I don't think I could find a moon for, you could go either side but not in the sollux way, just in the: I think it took you way too long to wake up way

[bitternest]

Recently started doing admin on iseries. Please share any and all Big Blue horror stories 🙇🏻‍♀️

iseries

Oh nice. I took classes on AS/400. So that's where I'll start. Let's see if I can do this without doxing myself or my prof. See, she was one of those highly skilled people with a skillset that is nearly out of date, which is to say AS/400 and COBOL. The thing about having a skillset that is nearly out of date is that you can basically ask whatever the hell money you want in order to work, especially if the technology underpins, um. Most of the world's banking systems. You can also basically do whatever the hell you want if you're a professor. So this... irascible old lady would regularly take 3 month contracts in the middle of term for $50-100k and... no one could stop. Good luck replacing a 60 year old IBM guru. And also, like. That's your bank. The one with your money in it.

So yeah. Iseries ain't the worst place to be. Buff them skills, network with some folks and learn to negotiate.

Second story is. Well. Here's the thing about IBM. From your first internship to when you finally "make it" as an engineer, it's drilled into you that your only viable way to advance is how many patents you can submit. Skilled engineers can take advantage of this and bang out a ton of patents for the company pretty quick. The problem is, not many skilled engineers apply to IBM. And a lot of "lifers" do, because IBM will implode around the time of the US government.

This means that a lot of politically-, bureaucratically-minded engineers are constantly looking for competition internally and are constantly fucking each other over. This is the trauma factory. We hired one guy who managed to get out and he was a nervous fucking wreck, took the most defensive positions on everything and was basically incapable of long-term planning. When he could actually code (he took a management position), he actually cranked out some decent stuff. But his mannerisms and performance was the beginning of a "don't hire from IBM" policy.

The rubber stamp on that policy was an interview I was in where less than halfway through, the engineer basically told me that I didn't know what I was talking about on a piece of third-party software, which obviously cooled the room substantially. I gently informed him that that was possible but unlikely and moved the interview on to other topics, but the man clearly had his blood up and eventually basically got HR involved, who joined the call. At this point I'm dying of second-hand embarrassment for the guy and when the politicking back and forth and trying to squeeze in all sorts of slights on my part in, it finally came back around to said piece of third party software. At which point I asked if he knew how to use github, which let me tell you got a flinch from HR. I asked him to navigate to the code repository and look up the commits for basically the whole-ass docs directory. My name was signed to at least a third of them.

He disconnected. And that was my experience with the knife factory.

Which nicely brings me the final story of the night. From the first dude I heard that the internal Pull Request process for legacy code (so like. 65% of it.) is viewed as "at least we're not at Oracle." Because Oracle's PR times can go as long as 18 months. IBM's were closer to a year for things in, say, AIX. For non-tech folks, an especially busy public repository might take two or three months to review, especially if the subject isn't a priority. The absolute longest I've ever had to wait was six months. A year, for a completely internally managed repository? I cannot IMAGINE the bungling going on there.

So basically what I'm saying is don't work for IBM.