#meansibling

[radishsan]

"im more than that." MARI LETS GO

When she’s eleven years old, Marianne goes to ask her mom to shave her arms. Sasha is in the middle of cooking, but when she hears her daughter’s request she pauses and turns to give her an inquisitive look. “Por qué?” Mari is pulling the sleeves of her dress over her arms, staring at the ground, face flushed with mortification that is making her force herself to look smaller. “The boys says it’s weird,” She mumbles. “For girls to have hair on their arms.” Sasha furrows her eyebrows. 

“Repeat after me. ‘I’m more than that.’” “I’m more than–Valentina, come on, I have a date with Orion in like, three minutes!” “I’m not finishing your makeup until you finish, Marianne!” Valentina’s tone is high and defensive and sharp. Her knuckles go white around the mascara she’s using and she has to pause to take a moment to breathe, jaw tightening. Marianne blinks in surprise while her older cousin exhales and rubs at her temples. The light catches the opalesque orb set in her most precious ring. Valentina looks personally pained, and when she looks at Marianne it is with a strange look in her eyes. “Just say it,” Valentina says, tone a little too tight. “Please.” She’s been like this ever since Marianne and Orion went public. Marianne scrunches up her nose. “ ‘I’m more than that’,” She repeats with a sigh, but her own words roll off her shoulders like water on oil. 

Every day when Marianne comes home from work there is a new package at her doorstep. Sometimes shoes. Sometimes perfume, or jewelry, or new makeup, or on one occasion after her phone of five years finally shattered in a freak gnome accident: an entirely new smart-phone. 

Xander whistled at that one. She had to call him over to figure out how to work the damn thing.“Wished I had a rich boyfriend,” He commented, kicking his feet onto her new glass table and fiddling away at the settings on the gadget. He had a cunning knack for technology; Mari had no doubt that if Xander had been born a mundane, engineering would have been his second calling. “Well, to be honest, I just wish I had a boyfriend. But the lavish gifts? Definitely seems like it has it’s perks.” “Forget perks, it’s confusing as hell.” Marianne replies with a whine, collapsing onto the couch with a bottle of sparkling lemonade. She takes a few gulps before offering Xander, who gleefully drains the rest of the glass. “I really, really don’t get why he does it. I tell him not to, but if I so much as breathe in the direction of a pair of shoes or something on the Internet too long he’ll buy it. Why?” Xander snorts, plugging his number into Marianne’s contact list. “Yea, Mari, ask the single person. Everybody knows lonely fuckers give the best romantic advice.” Marianne wrinkles her nose at him. “You’re the best advice for everything else.”His ego appropriately catered to, Xander gives a high pitched giggle and flaps his hand a little. “Aw, shucks, you. Nah but seriously, it’s probably just because he’s your boyfriend and wants to make you feel good.”Mari snorts. “Don’t be stupid, that’s ridiculous.”Xander shoots her a questioning look. 

A slice of strawberry shortcake and a cup of tea, because coffee is never good for her nerves even when it is 3AM and she has a stack of paperwork to go through. “Loren,” She sighs with a wry, exhausted smile, “What did I ever do to deserve you?” “You were Miss Mari.” They reply without missing a beat, and Marianne blinks. 

“I’m marrying tomorrow.” Orion is leaning against her office door, arms crossed, expression half-solemn. He scans over her frame, looking for weaknesses she’s hidden away, finds none. He stays in the doorway. There is a ring around his finger.“I know, Orion,” Marianne says absently, scribbling away at paperwork. There is a ring around her finger, too, and it glints underneath the artificial light bathing her office in a soft glow. “I have a wedding gift prepared, if that’s what you’re worried about.”“You’re alone.” He says.“No I’m not.” She replies immediately.“You could have me.” Orion insists. “I don’t want you.” Marianne shoots back, eyes still concentrated on her paperwork. Orion’s expression grows restless, and he shifts on his spot, spreads his arms out. “I could call it off right now–” Marianne’s pen splinters with how hard she sets it down on the table. Finally, she looks up, eyes glittering a little with impatience. “Listen when people are speaking,” She snaps. Orion twitches a little in surprise. Not all of Valentina’s teachings have sunken in quite yet. 

 "There is nothing about you that would ever make me want you again. I have an entire family here, and I do not need a man or any sort of romantic relationship to be a valuable person, let alone a whole one. I’m worth more than any shitty half assed affection you could give me, so shove your fucking marriage blues up your ass and GET OUT OF MY OFFICE.“ 

Not all, but some. 

[goddammitravio]

Zachary, 70 (Bitter Silence)

After Zachary's eyes glowed red, his dreams crumbled into soundless nightmares.

Before, being unconscious had been a strange limbo-like experience. Zach's dreams consisted of flashes of memories that he wasn't sure were his and occasional whispers that sounded so wrong in his voice. Not really his voice, of course, but a voice using the same vocal chords just a little differently, the syllables harder and less forgiving and the tone just a bit more grating.

But now, with mental chains restraining Zalmon and preventing him from hurting Priss again, it was... well... quiet. Too quiet. The quiet was so loud Zachary thought it was smothering him.

Ironically, having silence in his head made it harder to sleep. He was so used to activity always buzzing at the back of his skull that the lack of it was... well, disorienting. Was the night always this silent and lonely? He looked over at the door, where he knew just across the hall was Priss's room, where she was probably already sleeping, completely peaceful, with extra padding so her wound didn't get too agitated.

The wound...

Zachary stared blearily at the ceiling. "Hey," he murmured to the air, "why'd you do it?"

He received no answer, of course, but that didn't deter him.

"Why'd you hurt Priss?" he went on. "Aren't you supposed to protect her? You're the bodyguard, not me." He shifted onto his side. "If you're the one she really needs, then why did you hurt her? Why..."

Zachary hesitated. Even though he knew he was talking to no one, it was still hard to form the next sentence. "If... you're the one she needs, then why am I here?"

Silence.

"Why do I exist?" he muttered. "You know more than you're telling me or her or anyone. I've always gotten the feeling that you're hiding something. Do you know why we're like this? Why we exist at all?"

Silence.

"Of course I'm not expecting an answer," Zach groaned. "You're chained up, like you should be. You hurt Priscilla and now you have to deal with the consequences." He sat up, swinging his legs onto the floor and standing up. "You probably can't even hear me, right? Well, good. You can stay locked up in my head forever for all I care. You hurt her."

Zachary spit the last sentence out as if it were a string of curses. "You hurt Priss when you were supposed to protect her. Some guard dog you are, biting your master." He looked down at his wrists, clamped tightly in bracers that were his but not really, channelers that belonged to someone else that used his body. "I wish I could punish you more than just locking you up," he growled. "You deserve worse. You deserve a thousand times worse."

For a moment, as Zachary glared down at his bracers, he was filled with an overwhelming urge to rip them off and throw them in the trash. He could figure out a new channeler. Something that suited him, not the bastard in the back of his mind that had sliced into his sister. Something that was all his own, that he didn't have to share with any half-baked personality that didn't think of anything but bloodshed, even going so far as to attack Priss for no good reason at all.

Zachary got about as far as unlacing the leather string on the underside of one of the bracers when the pain slammed into his head like a truck. He didn't cry out, just made a small airy sound and crumpled to his knees, knuckles white, hand shaking. "Okay--okay--I get it okay just stop--" he gasped, clawing at the floor.

As quickly as it had come, the pain receded, and Zachary got up and grudgingly climbed back into his bed, more restless than ever.

"You're a prick," he grumbled.

There was no answer.

[proloser-spiral]

@meansibling tumblr being weird collection

[kohaive]

owed this to @meansibling

a vegetable feeds a growing fruit

[radishsan]

Llyr 36

36. “I can’t live without you.” 

There are fingers digging into Llyr's wrist. She can feel the skin there bruise as clearly as she can hear the voice of the owner, tearful and desperate. 

"Please. Please don't go, Llyr, please, I can't--" 

Llyr wakes up with her entire body drenched in sweat. Her eyes flash open and she gasps and the blankets around her feel wrong, so she shoves them off as fast as possible. One moment later she has her walking stick and is out of the Janus dorm room, shaking, unable to think. Pear flits after her, the sometimes-watchful guardian, rubbing at their eyes and giving a little yawn. "Stairs," They manage to warn sleepily before Llyr tumbles down and wakes the entire house up. "Was it a nightmare again? You've been having more of those recently. Maybe this school isn't the best for--"

"No," Llyr says quickly, voice filled with serious conviction that she's rarely ever shown in any aspect of her life. "I want to--I want to be here." Her stick goes tptp on the stairs and Llyr makes her way down with relative ease. She's had more perilous pursuits than a staircase on the island, but certainly not with the same shivery unease. "I was just--I just wanted a glass of water. It was a regular dream, nothing to be on alert about. You should just go back to sleep, it's fine, I'm--" 

Pear snorts and it's enough to make Llyr flinch before her hand can reach one of the glasses in the Janus cupboard. "Give me a break," Pear drawls, finishing off Llyr's sentence for her and tugging a little at a white tuft of hair as she reaches for the tap. "Nothing about you is 'regular', Llyr." 

It's the truth but somehow it stings just a little bit. Llyr presses her mouth together a little tightly. Extraordinary, but not extraordinary enough. Not enough to be like her brother or her auntcle or--

Pear tugs on a tuft of hair again, this time to get her attention. There is water pouring over her fingers from a too-full glass. Llyr turns off the tap and wraps her fingers a little more tightly around her staff, ignoring the way the moisture calms her down and wielding it into the sink. "It wasn't a nightmare," Llyr reassures, taking a gulp of water. She can still feel fingers around one of her wrists, the skin there tender from a phantom pain long since shoved away in the recesses of her memory. "It was just...just a memory. Something I almost forgot." 

Pear hms. "You should go see T," She advises, eyes watchful as Llyr takes more gulps of water. "The mental restraints must be weak again." 

Llyr doesn't reply. They both know she isn't going to see TB. The idea that Musoke is not the person she has known them as sticks in the forefront of her head and does not leave, the concept of proof left to the dust. Llyr is brave enough to do many things, but she is not brave enough to be a catalyst. Not one that will cripple her Auntcle and send shock waves through everything they've worked so hard to build for the world that they love so dearly. The world that Llyr loves so dearly. 

Keeping one pain means exposing herself to every other part of her that is painful. Llyr knows the descent will be slow, which makes it all the more terrible. 

She puts the glass back in the sink. 

"I--I can't live without you."

"You're smart," Llyr replies, and yanks her wrist out. "You'll find a way." 

Llyr grimaces and presses a hand to her head, a twist of self disgust making her mouth go sour. Who did she say that to? How could she say that? 

"Llyr?" Pear asks, voice filling up with tense concern. 

"It’ll be okay," Llyr replies in a mumble. “I’m not fragile.” 

She goes back upstairs to the dorm room feeling suddenly, terribly alone with herself.

[goddammitravio]

lyn c4 when Bro Steals the Sho...

oliver you binch

[goddammitravio]

raid a2. he starts saying "swaggy"

3 seconds before chanel swoons and french dips him

[goddammitravio]

Maddie b3

anne’s latest design is sure to hit the parisian runways

[goddammitravio]

d2 simon. let's see sum Happy Garbáge Man

the real garbage is the minimal amount of effort I put into this

[radishsan]

dream job: working @the salt and pepper diner

[radishsan]

she Hears Something Homosexual 

[goddammitravio]

Zach d5. spider: THE SEQUEL!!!

when you accidentally walk in on your adopted sister changing

[radishsan]

alex a2 when you make that 11/10 Joke

voila

[radishsan]

bambi but instead of the violin its a kazoo

yin: “ONE FEA”

[radishsan]

viola a3 because i love to torture myself

ur welc

[radishsan]

finch c2,,,,

who is this