#not know how much longer I can stand the thought of being here; my agoraphobia has been terrible and
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tabula rasa; keep moving forward
I’ve made some friends on tinder so far; some want to play board games and some want to get in my pants. But I’m talking to this kid [21; obviously not a literal kid, but it feels like there’s over a decade between us] about his depression in how the public unconsciousness is poisoned. (Speaking of which, I need to get back to writing the smut I was drafting while drinking. The guy’s getting pegged while he talks about parasocial relationships being deliberate creations of class based society; used to alleviate the rising temper of the inevitable clashing mentalities prevalent among the public unconsciousness. Obviously I’m not gonna do it justice in any way in a tumblr post, so I’ll keep it top myself for now.)
And as all the thoughts raise through my head, agreeing with him on how neoliberialism’s schadenfreude is morally decrepit, I’m reminded about our discussion(s) about tabula rasa and what it means to be one’s authentic self. Yeah, sure, ALL the kinky shit we talked about was fun, but it was always the intellectual discussions that I’ve missed most. Sure I may have been the moody sarcastic asshole at time, but I was always sincere with my interest in discussions & our intertwined betterment; no matter the topic.
So I guess that’s another reason why I’m reminding myself to keep moving forward like I used to tell you. I’m finally replying to my new therapist. it shouldn’t have taken me this long, but I’m so exhausted that I’m just now getting around to it.
Why am I even writing this? You don’t read it, and it’s already inside my head. I guess it is good to get it out, even if it makes me feel psychotic (I should probably get my psychiatrist to up my anti-psychotic, shouldn’t I? ...I jest; moistly, er, I mean mostly.)
[This is where I’d insert the sound of an hour long groan that you can’t tell if it’s the byproduct of a bad pun or from something else I might say; I’m hyper-aware except for when I need it most after all.]
#the amount of thesis I could write with a bottle of cheap ass screw top rose; a little bit of adderall; and maybe a little weed... man I#really wish I had the mental capacity to go back to college; part of my interest in a state job is the free state school classes; gotta go#to FSU like I(we) said I(we) would; right? well hey if you ever need a couch to surf (or bed but I doubt you'd want that offer) in Tally#it'll always be available so long as I'm stuck in this hell hole of a transphobic state ...fuck me up the ass (or have your bf do it) I do#not know how much longer I can stand the thought of being here; my agoraphobia has been terrible and#my ''husband'' has only marginally gotten better at being verbally abusive; she has a lot of points but she attacks me so harshly that all#I can really do is dissociate ...jk I've gotten a LOT better at picking my battles and knowing how/when to respond; if you thought I was#good at listening back then; well Im#noticeably better#(I was gonna use some arbitrary metric value but I'd rather let my actions speak for theself; and its not liek you have any interest in my#actions or my thoughts ...you've yelled at me enough times about all that already ...honestly I would've rather you apologized for all that#instead of ''everything'' that happened in our relationship; guess what: I've never kept score rather a catalog of things I'd want to talk#over if the time ever presented itself; fuck it I need to go get some sleep; trying to decide what kind of nightcap I'm in the mood for now#that I've gotten better at kicking bad habits; I've been slowly working sicne my heavy relapse(s) in summer of '20; anyways allonsy! KMF!!!#I need to get caught up with DW now that they've apparently brought David Tennant back)#personal#keep moving forward#I need to stop this absurd obsession when I know it serves no healthy purpose
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From Eden: Three
Warnings: noncon sexual acts, mentions of mental illness, grieving, trauma, panic attack; tags to be added throughout series
This is dark!Bucky. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The mc suffers from agoraphobia. After a new neighbour moves in across the street, her home becomes even more of a prison.
Note: I know it’s been a while...
Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!
As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3
Transcript:
Sunday
When Dr. Tisha and Lorena left last night, they were still angry with me. I didn’t care much as both of them lectured me again over that man. I told them the same things I had before. I don’t want to know him.
They suggested at least that I save the money I made for a day out. Lorena said it would be good for me to try to go into town and do some shopping myself, for myself. The thought made me choke but I just smiled and said, “we’ll see.”
Now I’m awake, early again. I keep hearing things in the yard. I tell myself it’s a raccoon or something else, maybe even a bat! One got in the house last year and I locked myself in the bathroom until I was brave enough to grab the broom and chase it out. Looking back, it’s sort of funny.
I looked out the window but I just saw shadows that made me nervous. The bird bath was eerie in the dark and the shed looked decrepit. I thought I saw something move along the wall but I’m sure it’s only me being tired.
I did try to go back to sleep but then I started thinking about things I haven’t thought of in a long time. About the things I told Tisha I never want to think or talk about ever again.
Then I thought about grandma and mama. Why did they have to leave me?
Later
I was in the garden when it started to rain. It started with a big crack of thunder and I almost screamed at how scary it was. It came so fast I barely got inside before I was soaked through. Then I giggled at myself as I stripped out of my muddy jeans and wet tee shirt.
When I was a kid, I used to love to dance out in the rain, or just stand and let it wash over me. When my mother died, it stormed and I sat in the downpour until I got sick. The drops hid my tears and numbed the pain of that lonely ten-year-old. I’m older now but sometimes I still feel like a kid.
I watched the sky darken through the window and the smell of the rain in the dirt was comforting. I made tea and kept watching. The sky would flash, a cacophony of awe, and I felt as if I was living in an old Hitchcockian shot. I liked to think there was a camera there to catch the perfectly framed scene, the frightening and frantic swell of the storm that reflected the suspense of the human catastrophe about to take place.
Then the horror was no longer just in my mind. I cleaned my cup and turned. As I passed through the dark hall I saw a shadow flash at the window of the door. I gasped and rushed forward to check the latch but the figure was gone. I peeked out and there was nothing.
Now I’m still awake and I think I just got carried away with my imagination. I’m watching The Wizard of Oz but the colours aren’t as bright as they used to be. At least, they don’t seem like it.
🖊
Monday
I don’t remember falling asleep. It must’ve been late, or early depending how you look at it. I woke up to the blue screen as the VCR had stopped and rewound the tape. It was still dark, the sky hungover from the wild night.
I made blueberry tea. It was too sweet after I let it steep for too long. I watched the morning birds bask in the full bird bath and slowly the sun began to shine down. It’s brighter now and I’m going to try to fix the shed window.
🖊
Tuesday
I couldn’t write anymore yesterday. Not after what happened.
I can’t.
🖊
Wednesday
I
On Monday, I
He was here.
I was hammering the board back into place and I hit my finger into the nail. The metal left a painful blister and my knuckle split and bled. I cried out and dropped the hammer as I held my hand and tried not to tear up.
“You alright?” he asked and I looked at him, afraid.
He was at the gate. Had he been there, watching me? I nodded and wrinkled my nose in pain. I couldn’t bend the top of my finger. I hid my hand and left the mess on the ground as I rushed to the front door to hide inside.
“Hey,” he called as I whimpered, dumbly trying to turn the handle with my hurt hand, “you’re hurt. I can help.”
I shook my head as my finger throbbed. I looked at it and cringed. It was really bad.
“I just want to help.”
“Why are you here?” I watched the door creak open and didn’t look back at him, “why are you bugging me?”
“I was just walking by and I heard you,” he said, “I know how to set your finger… or I can take you to the hospital.”
I didn’t want to go to a hospital. The thought makes my stomach hurt. I hate hospitals.
“I can deal with it.”
“You’re bleeding a lot,” he insisted and I was getting really annoyed.
“What do you care?” I don’t understand him or why he kept bothering me and hanging around my gate!
“Well, I won’t lie to you, your friend, Tisha, she told me to keep an eye on you,” he said through the bars, “so yes, I was watching you.”
“She’s not… not my friend,” I was so angry. Why would she do that!? She doesn’t even know him, I don’t know him, “she’s my doctor.”
“Can I help you with your finger? I’ll stop watching but you need to get it set and soon.”
“I don’t care. I got nine others.” I was mean and didn't care.
“Then I can call your doctor? She gave me her number in case--”
“No, no,” he couldn’t call her. She’d be mad at you and she’d make you go to the hospital, “don’t call her, please. Just… stay here.”
I went inside and with one hand, I searched under the counter for the dinged old white chest. I pulled it out by the thin metal handle and went back outside. The way he watched me made me nervous even though he was so calm.
“If I let you in, you have to leave right after,” I said as fearsomely as I could, “and this is the only time you’re ever coming in.”
“You’re shaking really bad, that must hurt,” he looked at my hand and ignored my warning.
“Do you get it!? You have to promise to leave after.”
“Sure, just let me help,” he nodded.
unlocked the gate and slowly opened it for him. We sat at the patio table as he searched through the old box of first aid gear. He took out gauze and found two straight sticks from the garden. He tested their strength and sat back down.
“Give me your hand,” he said.
I reluctantly put my hand on the table and hissed at the pain in my finger. He cleaned it carefully and I looked away as he went about his task. It hurt less not seeing it. When he finished wrapping it up, I pulled away and stood.
“Good, now go,” I pointed to the gate.
“That won’t be good for more than a day,” he stood, “I have some real splints at my house. I could come back-”
“I told you, no,” you jabbed your hand towards the gate, “out.”
He was quiet and he looked around. His jaw set as he considered the thick garden and his eyes narrowed.
“The flowers are doing good,” he said.
“Please, leave,” I begged, he was making me nervous.
I was still shaking but not from the pain. I remembered that night, it wasn’t just one, it was several, and they laughed as they stood over me. They were smaller than him, just teenagers, like me, but they still hurt me.
“Go!” I shouted, “go! Go! Go!”
He grabbed my shoulders as I began to hyperventilate. I hadn’t been so worked up in a long time and I could stop as the fit began. I chanted the word over and over as my body shook so violently and my voice became only deep and painful breaths. My chest burned so bad.
I didn’t remember what happened after that. I only remember him in my house. I was on the couch and Dr. Tisha was there too.
When I could speak again, I asked her to make him go. She ignored me and said that he helped me, that he had kept me safe by calling her.
But I saw his smile and how he looks at me. I saw the way he paced around the house and noted every inch of it. I watched him as Tisha fed me chamomile tea.
She didn’t want to leave me alone, she said. She thought I should go to the hospital for my finger and for a mental evaluation. I sucked up the panic in my chest and told her I was okay, that I remembered the exercises and it wouldn’t happen again. I could tell she didn’t really believe me.
“I’ll stay with her,” Bucky offered and my eyes rounded.
“I’ll be fine,” I told Tisha before she could respond.
“You’re not fine,” she said, “in good conscience, if you won’t go to the hospital, I need someone here to monitor you.”
“Lorena--”
“She’s off-the-clock. I can’t expect her to come here right now, she has other clients.”
I frowned and crossed my arms and crushed my injured finger, “why can’t you stay?”
“Well, I left a session for this and I have others waiting on me. I would stay if it was an option. Listen,” she sat and spoke to me like I was a child, “this man is a public servant. He is a good man, in fact, I think he’s a lot like you. Now it would be wrong of me to go into detail about his experiences but I have it on good authority that he knows better than even me what you’re going through.”
I shook my head and pouted, “I won’t hurt myself. Not again.”
“I wish I could believe you,” she said, “but recently you’ve shown some serious regression. If you keep arguing with me, I will be obligated to have you escorted to the hospital and kept for seventy-two hours...
Or Bucky can stay until Lorena comes by tomorrow and I can return.”
“I didn’t do anything. I got nervous.”
“I won’t ask again.”
“Fine, fine, he can stay,” I gave up. The thought of another hold at the hospital was enough to make me give in. I couldn’t do that again.
So Bucky stayed and I didn’t sleep. Again.
And I didn’t write and I can’t anymore. I don’t feel good.
🖊
Thursday
There’s a lot to catch up on but I don’t want to write about it. I never want to think about it again.
Bucky’s gone, Lorena and Tisha made their visit on Tuesday, and I’m fine.
I’m fine.
🖊
Friday
feel him still. He’s watching me. I know he is!
He was in my house, he slept on my couch, he walked through my halls. I smell him still and it makes me sick.
I see him through the gate, he doesn’t try to hide anymore. I called Tisha for my daily check-ins. I’m back to those again. I told her he was watching and she told me he was only concerned. She said I was exaggerating. She thinks I’m crazy!
The walls used to protect me. I used to hide behind them but now I just feel trapped.
He’s watching again. I see him through the window. He’s at the gate, his metal hand on the bar as he searches for me. I’m going away before he sees me. I’m turning out all the lights and locking the doors.
🖊
Saturday
The gate is broken again. The face of the lock fell off and one of the bars is bent through several others.
The lower hinge is busted and I found footprints in the dirt. There are tulips missing from the garden, the pink ones. I got those bulbs from grandma, her last gift to me. I’m sad.
The doors are still locked and all the curtains are closed. I can’t even turn on the TV.
Later
He was in the house! I know he was! The window to my bedroom was open and the blankets on my bed were all messed up. I woke up on the couch as I usually do. I feel asleep reading a book with only a candle. The candle was out and the pages of the book were bent.
I got up to go to the bathroom. I felt weird. My shorts were damp with sweat. The house is so hot with the windows shut. I stopped when I noticed my bedroom was open, I always closed the door.
It’s really hard to write because I’m still shaking. It wasn’t just the window or the blankets. There were pink tulips on my pillow.
I know it’s him. He’s playing a game with me, a game I don’t like.
I’m scared and I hear someone in the garden. I can’t remember if I locked my bedroom window. I was so afraid, I can’t remember.
I can’t remember.
I can’t~~
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#series#from eden#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#mcu#marvel#winter soldier#captain america#agoraphobia
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I'm so tired of roleplaying with people who don't put half the commitment I do into our threads and muses. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm a weirdo or like I don't belong for that. Any other hobby and people wouldn't care if I took it seriously. Why is roleplaying different? How can I keep going like this if I'm getting rudeness from all sides? I can't even go outside my already tiny bubble and find more partners, because I always see people putting roleplayers like me down and it's exhausting.
"Why is roleplaying different?"
Well, Anon, I know that was a rhetorical question, but I have some thoughts on that. To the surprise of no one!
I strongly believe that this is an issue with how fandom has come to dominate roleplaying. As I've said before, it really wasn't always like that. Of course, you always had canon characters and almost all RPers were invested in a fandom or two. The difference was that online RP was once viewed much more like tabletop RPGs are.
When the RPC became a near-total offshoot of Fandom, a lot of shit changed and very rapidly...and within Fandom, a lot of shit was changing very rapidly as well at that time.
RP has always been something looked down on (though, at least no one ever accused written RP online of being literally demonic like they did DnD, or made correlations to murder sprees like they did LARPing, so there's that) as strange, not the good, understandable sort of dorky.
Part of that is almost certainly because of the difference in the way society views writing vs the way it views hobbies like gaming - writing is seen as an intellectual pursuit and a job, gaming, even at its most negative points of view in wider society, has been seen traditionally as a downtime activity only.
But. RP was not looked down upon from within Fandom or in roleplay communities themselves like it is now.
When the whole experience of fandoms themselves became extremely mainstream and open, it welcomed in a ton of shit ideas and behaviors that were not previously prevalent. It changed RP, too, along many of those same lines.
When your hobby is considered objectionably weird by people within the fandoms you love and RP in and that makes you a sort of lowest-tier fan, the viewpoint of RP to RPers becomes something lesser than a valid hobby. When RPers are the same people who engage with Fandom monetarily, anything not monetized is passively consumable content, including RP. And RPers are trying to both deflect shame and struggling with wider society's mixed messages, that now hit them everywhere online as well. Shit like, "you don't have to monetize your hobby, it's okay to just make really good cross stitches of memes for yourself" and "if you're not paying me, you have no control over me."
We seriously do not view RP as a proper hobby anymore, that's why. There are many factors to that, those are just few, but that's the ultimate answer. It's not seen that way because it's not valued in the same way.
I think much of the problem with muns losing their entire shit over anyone else approaching the hobby differently, dare I say...more seriously, is related to a lot of complex psychology about self-esteem, control, and anxiety. So many people here struggle with serious self-worth and confidence issues, and I think to many of them, whether they realize it or not, when they see serious RPers, they feel like that's an inherent judgment and a danger to their own enjoyment. Because RP, as writing, is a skilled hobby - the more you practice it, the more skilled you become with it. Meaning that someone who approaches the writing seriously is going to be at a higher skill level.
Enter the way we're training to think about writing again - when they see someone who is very practiced, skilled, and confident with their writing, the learned idea is that they're somehow superior in a nasty, personal way.
I most certainly do not think that makes it alright, it isn't, and I'm not very tolerant of it.
It's absolutely alright to engage with RP in any way you see fit. If that's extremely casual, it's a minor hobby for you, that's great! I'm so happy you're enjoying yourself, and I mean that in no facetious way. But not when that is the only form of it respected and accepted. It's just as alright to have RP as your primary, serious hobby!
The only way we can all enjoy a hobby with such great variance within it is by respecting each other's variables, not by vilifying them. It's recognizing that, no matter how much you enjoy the mun and/or muse, they're not engaging with the hobby in the way you are, it's not a good fit to write together. (Please, begging y'all to be friends with those who are different, not enemies, shit's sake. You've not got to write together to be friends!) Instead of labeling them and being hateful. Different =/= a threat.
And, to go off a bit lol y'all demonizing serious RPers really don't get that there are some intense tones of ableism and more going on in that narrative of yours, huh?
Not that anyone requires a reason to be serious about any hobby, but when people pick a hobby like RP as their primary one...you should probably have the maturity to consider why that is. Could it be that they focus on a hobby they can do from their homes and that requires low physical involvement, and has a degree of separation from direct socializing, for a reason?
Serious RPers tend to be limited in their ability to pursue other hobbies. Mental and physical health, region, finances, and ability to spend time outside of the home are all very common limits for those who "take RP too seriously/are addicted to RP."
Maybe take five seconds away from your own issues to consider that the person you're shitting on for something so minor as a difference of importance of a hobby might be the full-time caretaker of a special needs child, having to remain home and on a very small income. They might be chronically ill or suffer from agoraphobia. They might live in an area with no hobbies of interest, affordability, or at all...or they might live somewhere that is incredibly dangerous for them.
I honestly do not know where these people have been that they've been aggressed at by serious RPers, but that's usually the excuse. (I'm not saying it has never happened or does not happen, before anyone goes there.) The idea that serious RPers are extreme elitists who are demanding that other muns do what they do, how they do it. That they expect other muns to be online and RPing all the time, that they be "available for entertainment at all times" at the cost of real-life matters. Having the expectation that threads not be dropped constantly or that a writing partner not leave for months with no contact is neither of those things.
In over two decades of RPing across almost every platform type that has existed, I have literally never seen that be either a singular RPer-type problem or one that serious RPers are even more likely to deal in. I've seen the opposite, actually. Which is not a condemnation or a statement that all casual RPers do this, just what my experience has been. And one that actually stands to reason based on the way they view and engage with RP - quick replies, quick entertainment, and very low commitment to threads, muses, or other muns. Of course, it's annoying to them when a more serious RPer is unwilling to do rapid-fire style quick, short threads from an ask with them, but is writing the lengthy replies they already owed instead.
That's probably a factor as well, in here among a plethora of misunderstanding/unawareness of differences - for many serious RPers, it's not easier and more fun to write short, quick threads. So, what a casual RPer is seeing is that they're willing to put all this extraordinary effort into a massive reply to someone else while their easy, fun, quickly done thread is waiting in line.
Misunderstandings and unawareness breed hostility, period. And there is a hell of a lot of those things in the RPC.
What serious RPers are expressing are either boundaries/expectations or frustration. Not a demand that you be around all the time, but an expectation that you leave them alone if you're not also a serious RPer who will be committed to threads and muses. Not hostility and elitism, the frustration that it's already difficult to find muns who will work out before you add in the majority rule of casual RPers.
It's incredibly disheartening, frustrating, and honestly, a bit anxiety-inducing to constantly be the weird one, always have few choices, and to be at risk of being Problematic purely because you take the hobby seriously. You can't vent without someone jumping on your ass to remind you (even if you said numerous times that "real life comes first" and "people can do what they want") that omg, people have lives, people can do what makes them happy, it's just RP.
It's so upsetting when you think you might have found a good writing partner, then, you see a PSA they've reblogged about how it's a "hobby, not a jobby," and "no one owes anyone anything, ever." Excuse me, as that last one is a direct quote, let me redo it so it is verbatim: "no one owes anyone here anything - EVER !!!"
I said I wasn't very tolerant :)
But seriously, exactly what you've expressed is why I'm not...it's another form of controlling others instead of trying your best to control your own experience, and it's often extremely hateful. I'm not tolerant of anything like that, it's no longer supporting preferences at that point. When your preference is the only one that will be tolerated in the community, it's not a preference anymore.
It's something that makes others feel isolated, afraid of harassment, and depressed. It is a hobby and it isn't supposed to make you feel like that!
And, no, absolutely the fuck not lol the "answer" to this isn't that you're taking it too seriously and need to take a break. I'm so tired of seeing that shit tacked onto RPH responses and vents and PSAs. You're not saying that RP is making you feel this way, "just take a break and come back when you agree with everyone else" isn't a solution.
Of course, if you do feel like your time here has become so upsetting? Yeah, obviously, you should try to find some other things to supplement your downtime that make you feel happier again. Engage in some other forms of writing just meant for yourself, or that can be published as fics. Spend some more time on a game you enjoy for a while, or get invested in a new one. Learn to shape bonsai or make no-knead rolls. Whatever would make you happy as a hobby when you're not here.
Other than that, however, well...we're not going to be implying on this blog that you're too serious and need to take a hiatus until you have no emotional investment in your hobby. That's insane. I'd not say it about hiking, martial arts, dog obedience competitions, hobby farming, or painting either.
I wish I could think of some solutions as to where you could look that wasn't like this, but it's definitely the majority of the RPC. It doesn't help that, due to this, serious RPers have a tendency to quietly stick together and not venture out into the RPC. They're just not incredibly easy to find.
I will say that they tend to be:
novella - if you're not here for serious RP and sticking around for a while, you're not going to invest the time and energy into particularly lengthy writing
older RPers - I would say that twenty-five is probably the youngest, with early thirties to late forties being the majority
in fandoms with a large adult base of fans - even if it's a franchise friendly to, or even meant for, younger fans, if it has a particularly active adult fanbase, it's a better chance of finding serious RPers in it
as above, old fandoms - fandoms that have been around for a long time tend to have more serious RPers in them
fandomless OCs - tend to have a higher chance of being written by serious RPers than canons or heavily fandom-involved OCs
RPers who do not do a ton of advertising for their muse(s), but when they do, they don't advertise them based on activism points or trends
slightly more likely to not have an emphasis on highly aesthetic blogs, graphics, icons etc. - they use a modified basic tumblr theme, low on graphics, their aesthetics are not on-trend, for example
anti-content policing/"write what you want" style muns
muns with more extensive rules pages - they plan to be here for a while, they take writing, RP, and their muse(s) seriously, so, it's a bit more important to them to head off problems before they start
those with older characters/FCs - be that literally in age or the character being one that has existed for a long time
"stay in your lane" style muns - if they're opining on fandom or the RPC, they must really be angry about something
those with numerous and detailed headcanons - for example, their response to a HC meme ask like, "what's your muse's favorite ice cream flavor?" is going to be treated seriously, not simply answered with "mint chocolate chip because my bby is gross"
As usual, not a complete or perfect list. I don't fit some of the things on there! It could give you some things to look for when trying to find other serious RPers, though. It's based on observances from someone who was never a casual RPer, even as a minor (me, obviously), and maybe it could at least keep you from continuously running into hostility about your approach to RP.
I've honestly considered making a list of some sort expressly for RPers who are on the more serious end of the spectrum, but...in a RPC back when things were dominated by serious RPers, I did that sort of thing with a RPH I had, and it still got labeled as being a list for and by Elitists. I don't know that anyone would want to put themselves out there for potential harassment on tumblr, you know? It was a joke then, just having a group of RPers label you as an Elitist. Here, you get told to kill yourself, and none of us need more of that shit, right?
Try to hang in there, Anon, I know it's upsetting, and I'm so sorry that something fun has gotten to be like this.
Try to understand that these people are coming from a place of irrational defensiveness, often in response to bullying themselves at some point or feeling bad about themselves. That doesn't make it right, but it does make it easier to not take to heart.
And keep at it! In my experience here, once you find a group of people you fit into, it really is...A Group. Especially among RPers who are ostracized, they stick together, they promote each other, and they're very happy for their mutuals to become your mutuals. Once you find them, it unlocks so many opportunities for the interactions and type of RP you've been missing!
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the elevator incident.
50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 7. Lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise. Pairing: Klaus Hargreeves x Reader Word Count: 1,629 words Warnings: Swearing, panic attack, agoraphobia/claustrophobia, nyctophobia, implied child abuse
There are very few things that the Umbrella Academy is not allowed to do during a mission, but taking the elevator is one of them, right behind pulling your punches and letting Benny’s tentacles smash you against a wall.
Why? Well, according to dear Dad, the “risk of getting stuck” (and Klaus remembers how Dad had looked straight at each one of them, as if they had already broken the no-elevator rule) during a “crucial point in the mission” is too great. Plus, stairs are often much faster, so he expects everyone to “use their brains” and take them when available.
(“But what if the floor’s really high up?” Allison had ventured to ask.)
(“Then it is your own fault if you cannot make it in time,” was Dad’s simple reply – and Klaus had winced, because that was definitely directed at him and Ben.)
Anyway. No dilly-dallying on elevators during a mission. End of discussion.
Which brings Klaus and you to this predicament.
“Look out!”
The elevator is right there, for goodness’ sake. And the bad guys are over there with their rifles, so Klaus decides, after only a brief moment of hesitation, that he’d rather take the risk of getting in trouble than a bullet in the head.
With a cry, he dives headfirst into the metal box.
He slams into the back with an awful thud, then scrambles to his feet and lunges for the buttons panel. Shit, which one is the closing – no – god, just – Klaus looks up at you and then slaps his hand against as many buttons as he can, yelling your name.
“Get in!” he shrieks. Your shield isn’t going to last much longer. He hits the panel faster, eyes glued to you as you back up, just a few more steps, closer, closer – “Hurry, hurry, hurry –”
As soon as you’re close enough, Klaus grabs the back of your collar and yanks you inside. Your force field flickers. Three bullets fly through and hit the wall behind him before the two of you throw yourselves against opposite sides of the elevator, dodging the spray of artillery as the doors slide closed.
Klaus squeezes his eyes shut and slides to the ground. Bullets riddle the door with piercing clangs until the machine finally leaves the third floor.
“Klaus!”
Hands grab ahold of his face. He lets out a gasp and opens his eyes to see you squatting in front of him, your mask off and your gaze firm, face shining with sweat.
He quickly reaches up to grip your hands with his own, still panting. “Are you alright? Please say yes,” he croaks.
You nod. The feeling of being absolutely and utterly useless back there hits him like a truck. This is why he’s always the lookout. His powers are shit when it comes to fighting and protecting, not like yours.
“I’m fine, thanks to you,” you answer, helping him stand up. “We’ve got to get off as soon as we –”
The elevator jolts, cutting you off.
Klaus’ breath catches in his throat as the two of you come to a halt. His eyes skitter around the space for the first time since he got in, and suddenly, he forgets all about the gunmen and his uselessness.
Elevators have no windows. Elevators are small. Elevators can get stuck.
The lights flicker.
(No no no no no no no no no)
Darkness. A shudder rushes through his body like a million ghosts.
NO. Klaus blinks his eyes desperately in an attempt to bring back the light. No no no. They can’t be stuck here in the dark. But he can’t see anything, and he can hear his breath speeding up and he’s stuck and he’ll be in this tiny space for hours, no no no, he feels desperately for the cold metal doors and tries to pry them open – no – no – no – not again –
“No!” He thrusts his fists against the doors. “Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!”
It’s not working. Oh, god, what if people had died in here? He doesn’t have any pills with him, he needs his medicine, what if the voices
(listen to us klaus listen)
come back? Throat closing up, he begs again, frightened and pathetic and small, hitting the doors as his knuckles start to throb.
“– aus? Klaus!”
You drag him back and he squeals like a baby, kicking as you pull him tight against you.
“Let go of me!”
You release him. He crumples to the ground and curls up.
“Sorry,” he hears you mutter in between his pounding heartbeats. You sit in front of him. He gulps in a deep breath as the toes of your shoes bump against his, and then you speak up again, quieter. “Klaus …”
What, he cries, just say something, please anything nice please please
“… Do you want me to talk?”
He tries to say yes, but a whine escapes through his nose instead. Thankfully, you understand.
“Breathe.” Your normal brusqueness is almost completely gone, save for a familiar rasp in your voice. He presses his face harder against his knees. “You’ll be okay. Help is coming, so we just have to wait, okay?”
“We’re stuck,” he forces out.
“You’re with me,” you reply. “I’m right here.”
You continue talking, soft and gentle, and the tremors in his nerves begin to – very slowly – ease, just a bit. You’re here. He’s not alone. His siblings will find both of you soon.
Eventually, he discovers that it’s getting a little easier to breathe. He keeps his eyes shut tight, though.
“Klaus?”
He sniffs. “What?”
“Let me see your hands.”
His grip loosens around his knees. You graze his fingers before grasping them lightly, palms calloused and damp.
“What’re you …?”
You lift his hands up, and he feels your breath on his sore knuckles. Then you brush your lips over them in what almost feels like a kiss.
Klaus opens his eyes, startled.
You’re not a touchy person. Not even after a year of joining them on missions. He knows because he’s tried. You don’t crave affection in the same way he does; his hugs still render you stiff and cheek kisses are out of the question, no matter how strongly he’s felt the urge to do so the past month or two.
But you had kissed his hands. And come to think of it, you had held his face earlier and tried to hug him too.
He still feels awful, but not as much as before.
“I thought you hated me.”
“I don’t hate you.” You shift, and your knees touch his. “I’ve never hated you.”
“Even when I …” he sniffles grossly, “when I want to hug you?”
“No.”
Oh. That must mean you like him somehow, right? Klaus swallows, keeping his head down as his next question slips off his tongue. “Then can I hug you right now? I – ha – feel like shit.”
You pause. Disappointment seizes him, but then he hears you nod. “Yeah. You can.”
Klaus hobbles slowly to his knees and wraps his arms around you before you can take it back. The hug is limp and in an awkward position and certainly not one of his best, but you return it and pat his back, and it’s exactly what he needs.
“Thank you,” he whispers, tears wet on your shoulder. “You’re a real superhero, you know that?”
“I’m really not,” you say. “But … you’re welcome, Klaus. I’m glad you’re better now.”
“Not as glad as me.”
It takes him a few minutes to calm down some more. Once he feels up to it, though, he and you start yelling for help.
It feels like forever, but finally, the doors screech open, and Luther and Ben’s faces appear through the large gap near the top of the elevator. Klaus nearly sobs with relief. The two of you had stopped a full four feet before one of the floors.
“What did Dad say about elevators?” Luther admonishes, reaching down with both arms.
“Oh, I’m sure it was something important, but it must’ve slipped my mind when those maniacs came by to blast my brains out,” Klaus answers as he grabs his brother’s hand. After donning your mask, you grab the other, and Luther pulls the two of you out of the box with ease. Klaus brushes the dust off his uniform once he’s standing on solid ground. Thank god the mask is hiding his eyes. “Ah. Thank you.”
“Don’t do that again.”
Okay, ouch. “Don’t be such a flipping hardass, Num –"
“Don’t scold Klaus. He saved my life,” you say at the same time.
His siblings don’t hide their surprise. Klaus blinks and shuts his mouth, suddenly bashful and defensive all at once.
“Klaus s-saved your life?” Diego eventually repeats. “Bullshit.”
You scowl. “It’s not. He pulled me into the elevator before I could get shot up.”
Klaus follows Luther’s glance over to Allison. The girl shrugs, looking at Klaus. “Well, either way, you’re both safe,” she says, moving to hug him and then you in turn. “We won’t tell Dad about the elevator. Now let’s go. We’re late.”
The six of you head towards the stairs. Klaus stays silent as he descends, looking down at his feet step after step, thinking of the way you had kissed his hands. If he could just remember that and forget everything else, he’d be having good dreams for days.
Your hand presses over his shoulder right before Luther opens the exit door.
“You good?” you ask lowly.
Klaus smiles at you. “Oh, never better,” he declares.
It’s a well-worn lie, of course. But when you smile back, a small, almost shy smile, he thinks that maybe, one day, it’ll be the truth.
#wordless ways to say i love you#source: @50-item-writing-prompts#klaus hargreeves#klaus hargreeves x reader#klaus hargreeves imagine#the umbrella academy four#number four#the umbrella academy#tua#tua fanfic#fanfic#reader insert#hurt/comfort#angst#tw implied child abuse#tw panicking#tw agoraphobia#tw claustrophobia#parentheses thing inspired by stephen king#though i'm definitely not even close to writing as well as him lol#takes place sometime after five time jumps for the first time#tw nyctophobia
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Hothouse Rose chapter 6
Gotta get that last Fell boy into shape!
(words under cut) And remember, the pictures for the Lust boys are all six up on my main undertale blog.
Whip stared at his brother.
“AND TELL ME AGAIN WHY YOU’RE IN MY ROOM, GLARING LIKE I MELTED YOUR WHOLE SHOP?”
“cause ya ain’t actin’ like part of the family anymore and I wanna know why.” Spice was leaning back against Whip’s door, blocking all exit. “ever since baby doll came, you’ve been sulkin’ and hidin’ from’em and I don’t appreciate it. I know ya ain’t a coward, so what is it?”
Whip’s skull began to color in anger, standing to his full height, “BECAUSE THAT HUMAN IS NOT GOING TO LAST. I’VE SEEN THE HUMANS AROUND HERE, AND NONE OF THEM WOULD ACCEPT US IF THEY KNEW THE FULL EXTENT OF WHO AND WHAT WE ARE. THEIR URGES ARE TAMPED DOWN WITH IRON RODS AND CLOSED OFF EXCEPT FOR THE MOST TABOO AND PRIVATE MOMENTS. OR IN OPEN DISPLAYS IN THE SEEDY UNDERBELLY OF THEIR WORLD AND THOSE WHO PARTICIPATE OFTEN END UP DEAD.”
“I know that.” Spice was unmoved by this aggressive display. He was not afraid of his baby brother. “I’ve done my research on what gettin’ my shop going up here would entail, an’ it wasn’t pretty. but bro, just cause it’s private for them don’t mean they ain’t capable of openin’ up. just gotta work harder for it.”
Whip’s hands were gripped into fists, and even though he was looking down, Spice noticed his gaze was on the floor next to him, not on himself, “AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ONE OF THOSE FRIVOLOUS OTHERS FALLS FOR THEM? OR GETS THE INTEREST FOR A ROMP, HM? WHAT THEN?”
“apparently that already happened today. Boa. Baby doll got embarrassed but they’re still pals.”
Whip flinched hearing that, his glare getting more intense, “SO YOU’RE SAYING THEY AREN’T GOING TO TURN ON US? THAT I’M BEING RIDICULOUS?”
“no, I’m sayin’ you don’t need to try an’ protect yourself so hard.” Spice sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, “bro, you usually aren’t closed off like this with people you don’t trust. You’re good at making them think you like’em so they slip up. why are ya actin’ like a frightened cat? All puffed up and angry?”
Whip’s sockets were filling with red magic, “BECAUSE AT LEAST IF I KEEP THEM AWAY IT WON’T HURT HAVING TO LEAVE.”
“there’s the issue,” Spice walked over to where Whip was shaking in place, quickly putting his arms around him, “ya do like ‘em, then?”
“YES.” The answer was wet and miserable, “THEY’RE EVERYTHING PAPYRUS SAID, AND EVEN WITH SUGAR BEING CAUTIOUS, I CAN’T FIND A REASON NOT TO. SANS…” Whip slowly collapsed to his knees and held Spice tight, “I’ve…I’ve never been so close to someone who actually met my standards. They’re kind, and they care about our alternates, and they’re smart, and funny and beautiful and…Sans, I’m so scared to let myself go because we’re going to lose them.”
Spice rubbed his back gently, “I know, bro. but that’s why we gotta try an’ enjoy it, right? when we’re back in that shithole, we gotta have memories to get us through. Cause what good is it pushin’ away good things just cause they won’t last? Just means you spend more time bein’ sad than ya had ta.”
“I don’t know if my soul can take it, though,” Whip whined, hiding his sockets against Spice’s shoulder. “You know how lonesome it was at home and finding someone like y/n here…it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I found an angel and have to give them up.”
“y’know I understand that, probably better than most,” Spice gave his back a pat, making him let loose so he could sit down, “bro, I get it, but like I said, enjoy it while we can. cause once it’s gone, we ain’t gettin’ another chance.”
Whip sat next to him on the bed and leaned over, head on his shoulder, “You’re right, as usual, brother. I just…I’m used to causing pain, not feeling it. It’s difficult to manage.”
“yeah. but you can do it. I know ya can. cause I’ll be right with ya the whole time.”
After a while, just the slow hum of Whip’s computer and the breeze outside, Whip asked, “What did it feel like when you got to hold them, Sans?”
“real nice,” Spice purred a bit, “their whole body is soft, bro. hair, skin, hands, all pillows. Ehehe, they’d be mad if I said that to’em, though. they’re workin’ with their buddies and pap to get in shape. Spend half an hour outside every afternoon with’em in their leggings and sport top. Nice ta watch.”
Whip nodded, “And do they mind flirtations too much?”
“they’re gettin’ better about it, but you still have ta be careful how far ya go. don’t get all out explicit, but suggestive is fine. They actually shot one back at Sugar yesterday, even if it was kinda weak.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath and sighed as he let it out, “I’m going to try to amend my mistake of avoiding them, but it’ll take some time. Please keep me from making an ass of myself anymore.”
“I’ll try, but I dunno much about donkeys,” Spice quipped, only to get pushed onto the bed as Whip got up in irritation. “ehehehe, sorry, bro, but you walked inta that one.”
“I DID AND I HATE IT.”
--
You were in the kitchen, eating breakfast after waking up late on a rare Friday holiday when Whip walked in. Normally, he’d instantly walk back out looking frustrated, but today he stayed.
It was weird, and you watched as he walked to the fridge, got a bottle of a chocolate protein drink, and sat down near you.
“HUMAN, I….HMGH,” he started, picking at the wrapper on the outside of his drink till he could get the lit loose, “Y/N. I’VE BEEN…COLD TO YOU, TO SAY THE LEAST.”
“Yes.” Where is he going with this?
“I THOUGHT…WELL, I SHOULD EXPLAIN WHY. OR AT LEAST APOLOGIZE FOR IT.” He grimaced while he searched for the words, “I SIMPLY WAS AFRAID OF GETTING HURT WHEN OR IF WE SHOULD EVER PART WAYS. BECAUSE I HONESTLY…I’VE WANTED TO MEET SOMEONE LIKE YOU FOR A VERY LONG TIME AND IT MADE ME FEEL PANICKED. LIKE…FINALLY GETTING TO MEET YOUR FAVORITE CELEBRITY BUT AS YOU NEAR THE STAGE DOOR YOU BOLT. YOU’RE AFRAID THE REALITY WON’T LIVE UP TO THE DREAM AND IF IT DOES THEN YOU FEAR THE PAIN OF THE MEETING BEING OVER.”
That was not what you expected as his reasoning. Pride, specist thoughts, a general dislike of new people, something like that, but not…this. “I do understand your reference, but I’m still kind of shocked you’re even talking to me at all right now.”
“I UNDERSTAND.” He sighed, taking a long drink from his bottle. “I JUST WANTED TO…WELL, TO TRY AND FIX THINGS. I HAD TO ADMIT WHAT I WAS THINKING TO MY BROTHER AND THAT FINALLY GOT ME THINKING ABOUT…HOW UNFAIR IT WAS TO BE ANGRY WITH YOU FOR BEING YOURSELF. I HAD NO RIGHT, AND IT’S KIND OF STUPID NOW THAT I PUT IT IN WORDS. GOOD GRIEF.”
“How about,” you hold out your hand, smiling, “we start over? Hi, my name is Y/n. I’m Sans and Papyrus’ datemate and I’d like to stay in the house for the foreseeable future.”
He looked at your hand, then his shoulders relaxed and his sharp smile turned soft, “MY NAME IS WHIP, IT’S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU AT LAST.” He shook your hand, “I’D BE HAPPY TO HAVE SOMEONE SO BELOVED BY MY COUSINS STAY WITH US.”
A pool of warmth dropped into your chest at the relief you knew was a mutual experience. You no longer had an enemy in your home, and the comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your respective sustenance was very rewarding.
--
“Sugar, please,” Charm rubbed his sockets, “I’m trying to plan a fun night out for us all, and your pessimism is ruining it.”
“no, I’m seriously worried. Have you not felt the energy change? Somebody’s doing something and it’s none of us.”
“I felt it and I know exactly what happened, but I’m not telling you because it’s none of your business.” Charm kept clicking from one page to another, looking at options.
“what?”
“You heard me. You do realize there is a loving trio in this house, yes? That it’s not just us and the others from similar universes?” Charm swiveled his chair and looked fully at his brother, “Sans, sometimes your anxiety makes you act like a prick.”
Sugar winced, deflating. “oh. yeah. guess I overstepped again.”
“Yes, you did.” Charm pushed his chair over and poked Sugar in the chest, “but I will remind you again. I love you. I want what is best for everyone here. And I am not some babybones who is naïve about the complexities of relationships. It’s just things are tilted differently here, and yes, that was hard to get used to, but it can be done. And besides,” He smiled, “We’re all going out for Halloween. I need to make sure we go somewhere fun since it’s Y/n’s favorite holiday and Papyrus’ birthday.”
Sugar sighed, “okay. okay, maybe you’re right. and sansy’s been trying to get me to lighten up too, so…” He sat on the floor before laying out like a star, “if sweet-pea can trust them enough to cuddle again, I guess I can try to, too.”
“Bully for you!” Charm smiled, going back to his computer. “And Sweet-pea will be here at the house with our candy bowl, so he will get a costume as well.”
“he’s actually going to greet the trick or treaters?”
“Yes! He’s been doing very well since he started opening up more.” Charm double clicked something and absently scanned the text that popped up, “He’s started sitting on the deck with us while we do our yoga and Sansy is seeing if he can set up video chat conferences with a therapist for him. Apparently, humans get this kind of anxiety too. It’s called agoraphobia.”
Sugar nodded, kind of surprised. Sweet-pea was going outside? Willingly? That was definitely a good thing, no arguing that, and…well, he was getting tired of being jumpy about the human all the time, if he was being honest.
--
You were a little shy about it, but Boa and Sweet-pea were both bustling around you in Sweet-pea’s room. They were re-taking your measurements to make sure they were accurate for your costume. You hadn’t had a good idea for a costume, but Papyrus had proposed it being a surprise that they chose for you. Sweet-pea had volunteered to make the design, and you’d been excited to see what he’d do. So far, he’d made you a nightgown that made you feel very ethereal any time you wore it, but he’d been too busy with commissions and orders to do anything else till now.
“I take a break every October,” he told you, sketching away, “it lets me have down time to recover and do whatever things I’d like otherwise.”
Boa was very fast with the measuring tape, barely touching it to your body as you stood in a shirt and shorts.
You felt the goosebumps going over your scalp as they worked, just like at the doctor’s office, and felt that strange far away feeling that went with them.
“Pumpkin,” Boa spoke, standing with his tape, “have you ever been fitted properly for your foundations?” He seemed puzzled as he looked you over. “I just want to make sure you’re as comfortable as you can be. Bad support can cause back pain, you know.”
You hadn’t known. “No, I haven’t. What would you have to do?”
Sweet-pea looked up, “just measure around your chest do some more close measurements of your pelvis area. It doesn’t take long. Last time he fitted someone it only took him two and a half minutes. But…uh… you will have to undress. Dunno if you’re up to that or not.”
Boa blushed, but nodded, looking away. “It’s up to you. You’re going to look ravishing either way, but it’s just been bugging me since we went shopping that first day. You deserve to be comfortable…”
It took a moment, as you thought it out. Two and a half minutes, hm? And you trusted them both, at least as much as you trusted the classmates you’d changed in the bathrooms with at choir competitions in high school. Quite a bit more, now that you’re thinking about it, “I think we can do it. It would be nice to know for my next shopping trip.”
Both of them perked up, and you steeled yourself as you undressed down to nothing. Boa’s eye lights shone bright and wide, and you saw the glow start at his throat, but he shook his head and smiled, “I’ll be quick. Thank you for letting me help you!”
True to his word, Boa went fast, around your chest, from your collar to your nipple, and around the area under your breasts. “That’s that, thirty-four triple d, Sweet-pea.”
“thought so.” The younger brother wrote it down somewhere on his sketch pad, but he was still going, “I know someone who would kill for that size for her bleach cosplays.”
You tilted your head and he smiled, “Somebody I know at home. She’s almost as bad as Alphys about anime, but likes JUMP stuff more.”
“Ah, okay.” You were focusing on anything other than Boa being between your legs with his tape, going quickly over your thighs, around your butt, and gently pressing the end of the tape to your core and going up a ways before snapping back and listing off his findings. “Well, that was fast.”
“three minutes. A little slower, but we’ve never measured a human before.”
Boa nodded and handed you your things, “We have everything we need to make you the best costume and find the best things on our shopping trips now.” There was blush on his cheekbones, and his smile was very soft, making your own cheeks heat more.
“Thank you for being fast with it. I’m not exactly used to being naked in front of other people.” You hurry to get your clothes back on, even as you hear something in an almost electronic voice. “Huh?”
Boa blushed, “Um, sorry. I slipped into Wingdings for a moment. I ah…I was saying we were lucky to get a glimpse at such a rare treasure as your body.”
Sweet-pea snorted and giggled, “that’s what he said literally, but wingdings is a monster language, so you don’t get any of the cute undertones and intents that went with it in English. you do look nice, though.”
“You boys are going to be the death of me. I’m going to die of flattery,” You had scrunched up your face from how hot it got, and huffed as you pulled your shirt back on, “and then Papy and Sans will be widowers.”
“You’d have to marry them for that,” Boa smirked a bit.
“smartaleck” you stuck your tongue out at him and walked to the door, “You’re both lucky I love you.”
“we love you, too, y/n.” Sweet-pea poked Boa, who just waved at you.
You shake your head and leave.
As soon as the door shut, Boa’s whole skull exploded in color and he jerked his scarf off as the jewel below burst into brilliant light. “Oh my stars, I’m going to keel over! Humans smell so different and it’s GOOD and they’re so amazing already and then just! Naked right in front of me! ack!”
Sweet-pea chuckled, blushing a bit, “they were lovely. And those hips….gosh, I know kids aren’t the end all be all up here but they look like they could carry so well…”
“I know!” Boa groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands into his closed sockets, “How does Papyrus just have them as his datemate and not keep them in the bedroom all day?”
“He’s just not turned like us, bro,” Sweet-pea sighed, “but I’m glad they’re at least happy with each other. You could smell him on them as soon as the layers came off.”
Boa finally seemed to calm down as the glow in his gem dimmed, “That was reassuring. Now we’re sure they’re not hurting themselves with repression or anything.”
“pretty sure it’s only us that need that regular release for health,” Sweet-pea mumbled. “humans don’t get heats, much less be in one all the time.”
“That still is amazing to me. And there’s so many of them even so! But then again, they are mammals that care for their young a long time. it’s only natural most of their offspring live.”
Sweet-pea laughed, “you should never have dropped out of zoology, bro. you’d have been a great professor.”
“I’ll be a better guardsman slash radio host!” Boa shot back, getting up. “Now, as soon as you have the design ready, bring it to me. We’re going to make the others drop their jaws to the floor.”
“and all in a human-friendly fashion. Gonna be fun,” Sweet-pea waved his brother off, and got down to work. He was going to make the rest of the world see exactly what Y/n was to their household.
--
Whip was uncomfortable. Not because he didn’t participate in the pillow cuddling normally, because he had before the human had come. No, it was because said human had chosen to sit beside him in the pile. He was still jumpy around them, even if he knew they were on much better terms after his apology.
It didn’t help that Spice was on their other side and snoring so loud he could hardly hear.
“MAY I PLEASE WAKE HIM UP TO STOP THAT RACKET?”
“No, Whip, don’t wake him. He’s actually not trying to fluster me when he’s sleeping,” says the human, looking fondly at Spice. Well, they did have a point. “Here, let me try shifting him a bit.”
Interested, he watched as you gently shifted Spice’s head back, and his brother’s raucous snores quieted to gentle, soft vibrations.
“HOW DID YOU DO THAT?”
“Snoring in humans is caused by some weird blockages in the throat. I figured, if he’s snoring because of his ecto always being on, maybe doing what helps a human would help him.” You continue to intrigue him in the most unexpected ways.
--
Boa had been almost giddy in his sexy nurse costume when he handed you a bundle on Halloween at noon, “Here, Pumpkin, it’s your costume. Go put it on, hurry!”
Sweet-pea was behind him, a very normal looking scarecrow costume decorating his form, beaming in pride, “if you need help, just holler.”
Curious, you went to back into your room (you’d been leaving it to ask about just this) and opened the bundle. A beautiful Grecian dress, creamy white with golden clasps, lay in a cloud of feathers with a set of very soft, cottony underwear. The ease with which those went on surprised you, and the lifting of the weight of your chest from your back made your eyes widen. “Oh.” Boa had been incredibly accurate in that the wrong underthings could make you hurt.
The dress slipped on, as did a pair of delicate sheer white hose, and some golden sandals. The feathers, you realize, are wings that loop onto the clasps on your shoulders and attach to the golden rope around your waist. You actually get them on yourself, and when you pick up the little harp and halo that were hidden underneath, you grin. “An angel, huh?”
Everything fit like a glove, comfortable but flattering as you exited and came down the stairs. Charm saw you first and gasped, “Oh! Sweetheart, that’s gorgeous, but here, come with me.” He had that sneaky look when he was going to try and goad you or Sans and Papyrus into doing something romantic, but instead of taking you to them, he took you to a room under the stairs that you’d never bothered to investigate. It was like a dressing room in a theater, with lights and make up and wigs of all kinds.
“Welcome to my studio! On of the things I learned from my bestie underground is that half of an outfit is made by your make-up. Let me take you from a ten to an eleven.” He sat you down and gently removed the golden circlet of your halo, setting it down on the vanity. “Now, monster make-up is a lot different than human in that it doesn’t take five hours to do! So, I’m going to turn you around, and in thirty minutes you’ll be the belle of the Halloween ball.”
You only had a brief glimpse of your reflection (thankfully) before the chair was turned and Charm got to work. Smooth, cool creams were dabbed onto your face by his clearly practiced hands, having taken of his gloves to do this. It was kind of hard to keep from laughing, as he’d already made himself up and was wearing a rainbow afro and a red nose on top of his pure white face, blue eye circles, and big red mouth decorations. He was a very colorful clown, and the first clown you’d ever been happy to see.
Charm had his tongue stuck out while he worked, and you just couldn’t help yourself. You reached up and poked it with your finger. “Boop.”
He squinted his sockets and made a short noise that sounded like laughter, then gently told you off, “Don’t boop the beautician, sweet thing. It’s not polite.”
“But you’re my bestie first,” you point out, and his smile grows.
“I know.” He brushes his teeth against your forehead gently, “Now let me work my magic, quite literally.”
You giggle quietly, and he hums, using a puff to place powder over the creams.
He then goes around you and gently begins coming through your hair, adding some things to it as well, “When this is done, sweetie, it’s going to just be you with some polish. You’re always this lovely to us, it’ll just be enough magic to let others and you see what we see every day.”
“Are you sure?” Yes, you’d been pleased with the little bit of change you’d seen in your clothes since starting your daily yoga, but you still felt…gross.
“Oh, I’d put my soul on it.” He squeezed your shoulder gently before returning to his work on your hair, “Papyrus and Sans think you hung the moon, Y/n. And I’d put money on Boa thinking the same. Sweet-pea trusts you more than he’s trusted anyone outside the family, ever. Whip even let his pride go and started to get to know you. That means something.”
“And you and Sugar? Spice?”
“Oh Y/n, I can’t even put into words what you mean to me.” His voice was so soft and full of love, you couldn’t even imagine what his expression was, “and my brother is slowly letting go of his fears. He’ll understand your magnificence when he does. “ A snort of wry laughter, “And Spice would have you be his own private teddy bear if it was up to him.”
You giggle thinking about that. Since he’d gotten over your mutual miscommunication, Spice had been the ultimate cuddlebug when he felt he could be. Which was most of the time. Not that you minded, he was warm, and the thick ecto he always wore was soft and comfy. Plus, you liked his voice. It was different than the others, like Whip’s in that it was gravelly, but smoother underneath, carrying a sweetness you liked.
“Let me paint your nails, and then we’ll be done.” Charm squatted in front of you and took a bottle of what looked like clear nail polish out. He thought for a moment, then nodded, a zap of pink magic infusing the bottle and turning the polish inside gold. “That should be the right color. A touch of Midas, hm?” He beamed at his reference, and you nodded.
You used the time to talk about a movie you saw once, of people trying to gain an item related to King Midas, and Charm suggested you find it online and the family could watch it next weekend. After all, after your group returned from the Halloween carnival, you all would be watching Halloween themed cartoons and family movies (because Papyrus, Sweet-pea, and Boa preferred not to watch horror films) while eating whatever candy remained after the trick-or-treaters.
Looking at your fingernails, not only were they shimmering as if they were covered in liquid gold, but they were perfectly shaped and the cuticles that were normally rough were smoothed down. “Wow! How did you do that with just polish?”
“It’s the magic in the polish.” Charm finished your toes and returned the brush to the bottle, “The polish is just there to change color according to my intent. I needed it gold, and I wanted your nails to be healthy and beautiful, so the magic did the rest. Even after we take the polish off, you’ll still keep the healthy nails underneath. Also, it’s instant dry, too.”
He looked you over one last time and nodded, “Alright, are you ready?”
When you said yes, he placed the halo back on your head and turned you around. You almost burst into tears right there. Your hair was laying around your face in elegant waves, framing it perfectly and without frizz for the first time in your life. And your face, it was exactly what Charm had said. It was you, but your skin was evenly colored instead of blotchy, the texture was smooth and uniform, every pore was clean and tiny. Your eyelashes and brows were present instead of faded out like they usually were, and all signs of the flaky dermatitis that had plagued you since your teenage years was gone from them.
“I’m…..Charm, you did…” you just looked over at him, the water dripping out of your eyes without you even blinking to free it. “It’s wonderful.”
“Just a little MTT Beauty Butter and the intent to clean and heal. The rest is all how your body naturally wants to be. It loves you, just as we do, and wants you to be happy and healthy. It just needed a little boost, now and again, is all.” He helps you to your feet, taking a nearby box of tissues and using them to gently dry your tears. “Now you can see yourself as the angel we know you are.”
You just hug him, far beyond words.
He strokes your head gently, waiting for you to recover before saying, “Now, we should get to the living room to meet up with the others and head for the carnival.”
You felt like you were walking on air as he led you out of the make up room and down the hall to the living room.
The banter had started already, “SANS, WHY DO YOU INSIST ON LAZINESS? IT’S OUR FIRST HALLOWEEN WITH Y/N IN THE HOUSE AND YOU JUST….THAT?!”
Entering, you saw Papyrus dressed as Superman, cape and spandex in red, blue, and yellow, and Sans was wearing a black, cat-ear headband taped to his skull, with black whiskers drawn on his cheekbones sloppily, all with his normal clothes.
Sugar, as a sexy witch, is standing with his broom in a corner, laughing behind his hand next to pirate-captain Spice, long coat sweeping his brown boots and black hat sporting a big maroon feather. Whip was dressed as a classic Devil, though he’d exchanged the red onesie for a bright red business suit. Boa and Sweet-pea were on the couch, chatting.
Charm cleared his throat and that got everyone’s attention, and you were feeling quite small as they all looked at you.
Whip’s eye lights went out, and you noticed a bright glow in the left leg of his pants. Oh no…oh no you’d made him uncomfortable. “I-I didn’t pick this out but…I’m sorry.”
Spice came over, taking your hands in his (where did he find all those rings?), “don’t apologize, baby doll. You’re beautiful. Sweet-pea an’ Boa done good. you too, charm, cause I know baby doll don’t do make-up like that.”
“Bu-but-“
“no buts,” Sans shortcutted next to you and beamed, “you look perfect. We’re going to be the envy of everybody. Though, as an angel, you probably don’t like that, do you?” He winked and you smiled. You couldn’t help yourself if Sans was making jokes.
Papyrus strode over and knelt in front of you, making everyone step aside for him, “AS A SUPERHERO, I WILL WORK VERY HARD TO DO GOOD, SO THAT I MAY GET VISITS FROM THIS UNEARTHLY VISION OF LOVELINESS AGAIN!” He was sparkling -literally-, cheeks flushed orange, as he looked up at you.
“Papyrus, you can see me anytime.”
“I KNOW, BUT YOU LOOK EXACTLY LIKE A MESSENGER FROM HEAVEN RIGHT NOW! THE PICTURE OF THE DELTARUNE’S PREDICTED SAVIOR!” He frowned and got up, “THOUGH, THAT ACTUALLY TURNED OUT TO BE FRISK, SO YOU’RE THEIR COUSIN. BUT STILL!”
Sugar flounced over in the short skirt and tights that were wrapped around his bones, “ooh, our little y/n has graduated from pretty to gorgeous.”
Charm rolled his eye lights, but Boa and Sweet-pea rushed over before he could fire back at his brother.
“Oh, Y/n, it’s absolutely perfect. I was worried about the top of the dress but it’s laying fabulously,” Boa cooed, proud of his work.
“you look just like I thought you would,” Sweet-pea gave a small laugh, “though, turns out real life is better than imagination in this case. Thanks, charm, for finishing off the look.”
“Oh it was my pleasure, believe me,” Charm actually honked his nose, revealing it to be a prop horn, “I might be a clown tonight, but I am a chivalrous guard first and helping our dear Y/n shine their brightest is the least I could do.”
You were blushing so hard, but Papyrus gently scooped you out of the crowd, “NOW LET’S GET GOING TO THE CARNIVAL. I WANT EVERYONE TO ADMIRE OUR ANGEL BEFORE THEY GET TOO FLUSTERED AND MUSS THEIR MAKE-UP!”
There was a murmur of agreement, and as you left the house, you waved goodbye to Sweet-pea, who was beaming as he closed the door.
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Fear Itself (TMA/YJ Crossover)
Moments later Kaldur was confronted with the sight of Wally reclining lazily on the deck of his boat.
The lanky ginger was dressed for the beach, freckled nose smeared in sunscreen and oversized aviators perched high atop the mop of his red hair. Wally had procured a neon pink deck chair from somewhere and was throwing birdseed to a pair of seagulls leashed to the chair’s arm.
Wally toasted Kaldur with a frozen, dubiously fruity drink as he climbed fully from the hold, bright purple umbrella shaking gently in the cold Atlantic breeze. “Aloha, amigo! Pina colada?”
Kaldur suppressed a smile. “It’s two degrees Celsius out here,” he said, eyeing the reddening tips of Wally’s fingers. “And it looks like you took your time preparing your entrance.”
“What’s an eldritch abomination without a good entrance?”
Kaldur’s hiding out from his greatest fear: himself. Wally swings by to knock some sense into his old friend.
Kaldur awoke in hold of his small ship to the sound of seagulls.
Quietly, he stepped onto the first rung of the ladder to the deck. He grit his teeth as he imagined emerging into the open air, nausea rolling in his gut. It had been weeks since he first forced himself back onto the open waters he once loved, but exposure therapy was apparently only so effective. Agoraphobia was an unfortunate affliction for a climate scientist conducting deep ocean sampling.
Kaldur tightened his grip on the ladder and hauled himself upwards. Seagulls.
Which was alarming, because when Kaldur had allowed exhaustion and anxiety to drive him below deck for the night, he’d been in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Too far from shore, by a far margin, for seagulls.
Or do you mean a Vast margin? The smug, playful voice of Wally West sing-songed in Kaldur’s head.
Moments later he was confronted with the sight of the man himself reclining lazily on the deck of his boat. The lanky ginger was dressed for the beach, freckled nose smeared in sunscreen and oversized aviators perched high atop the mop of his red hair. Wally had procured a neon pink deck chair from somewhere and was throwing birdseed to a pair of seagulls leashed to the chair’s arm.
Wally toasted Kaldur with a frozen, dubiously fruity drink as he climbed fully from the hold, bright purple umbrella shaking gently in the cold Atlantic breeze. “Aloha, amigo! Pina colada?”
Kaldur crossed his arms pointedly, raising a brow. “We’re on the Atlantic, not the Pacific. Hawaii is further from here than the Arctic.”
Wally shrugged, failing to hide a shiver as another crisp gust blew across the deck. “Tomato, tomato. It’s all impossibly large stretches of empty water to me, my man.”
Kaldur suppressed a smile. “It’s two degrees Celsius out here,” he said, eyeing the reddening tips of Wally’s fingers. “And it looks like you took your time preparing your entrance.”
“What’s an eldritch abomination without a good entrance?” Wally dismissed, sipping from his drink through a frankly excessive silly straw. Its bright twists and turns reminded Kaldur of another redhead.
Wally grimaced as the cold drink went down his throat. “It’s a little chilly,” he said brightly, nonchalantly attempting to tip the rest of the frozen drink over the side rail. A spray of cold saltwater splashed up over the deck, soaking Kaldur’s fellow scientist’s brightly patterned shirt.
“Ah!” Wally exclaimed, flushing brightly when Kaldur cocked his hip, blonde eyebrow climbing to new heights. Wally not so subtly eyed the entrance to the hold that Kaldur had emerged from, fingers and toes curling tight as the wind blew fresh chill through his wet clothes. “If you’re cold though,” Wally said, shameless, “I don’t see why we can’t do this below deck.”
Kaldur shrugged, arms flexing underneath his thick sweater and windbreaker. “I’m quite comfortable, actually.” Kaldur strode over to the side of the deck nearest Wally, studying a few apparatuses secured to the side railing. “We can talk while I collect my samples, and then you can leave.”
A pale hand shot out, just barely stopping short of gripping Kaldur’s wrist. “Kal,” Wally whined, giving up all pretext of not being absolutely freezing. “Below deck, please.”
Kaldur sighed, turning to climb back into the bowels of his boat. Wally followed close behind him, muttering incomprehensibly about Kaldur’s poor taste in oceans. With most other people on the planet, Kaldur would have banished any intruder on his self-imposed solitude to somewhere Away. Nowhere dangerous, mind. At least not intentionally.
Barbara has picked well by sending Wally West to fetch him. Kaldur had been foolish for attempting to hide out in the middle of the ocean. He was alone, to be sure. But he was alone in the Vast, and at its mercy.
That mercy, in the form of a pre-hypothermic physicist shivering under three of Kaldur’s warmest blankets, accepted the cup of coffee that Kaldur passed him gratefully. “Roy misses you.”
Kaldur sipped his coffee. “And I him. That is very much the point.”
Wally reached behind him, rummaging in Kaldur’s cabinets. “No creamer? Sugar?”
Kaldur shook his head, smirking gently against the rim of his mug.
Wally grimaced. “Gross. But also, hey? I thought you came out to conduct climate research.”
“If I can help save the planet while avoiding hurting those I love, I see no reason not to do both.”
“You’re not though,” Wally said, pumping his fist when he found a small jar of honey. “I mean, I’m sure you’re helping with the planet saving bit,” he amended, stirring what must have been half of the jar into his mug, sipping it gingerly as it overfilled. “You’re pretty garbage at the other half, though. What if I told you you could do both if you came back?”
Kaldur resisted the urge to ask why Wally bothered with coffee when what he really wanted was just hot sugar. “I fail to see how inevitably feeding off the innocent and sacrificing their souls to The Lonely will help with either.”
“Not being around people won't make you less lonely. That’s fucking stupid,” Wally pointed his dripping spoon at Kaldur emphatically, flicking droplets of sticky sweet coffee all over Kaldur’s clean table. “And you’re not stupid. Just kind of a coward,” Wally added, slurping on the spoon. “Sometimes. About people, mostly. Roy, specifically. It’s okay, he’s useless too. But also, we need your help to stop the apocalypse.”
Kaldur subtly stole the honey jar back, securing it before the redhead could dip his saliva covered spoon back into the jar. “I’ve assisted in stopping numerous.”
“Not like this one.”
Kaldur sat quietly, hands folded before his face in contemplation as Wally finished explaining how the world was going to end, ‘for realzies, bro’, if the fears didn’t work together to stop it.
“So,” Wally pressed after the silence stretched out into minutes. “You ready to come back, or what?”
“I still cannot see where I fit in this picture.”
“Bitch me too, what the fuck,” Wally laughed, then sobered. “But actually. We don’t have, like, a plan-plan yet. Dick and Babs are piecing what they can together, but meanwhile it can’t hurt to have as much manpower as possible on board. They need peeps to do like, missions and shit,” Wally waved his hand dismissively. “Intel gathering, etcetera.”
Kaldur frowned. “And I assume that your current mission would be classified as recruitment. No.”
Wally took a long sip of coffee, fixing Kaldur with an indulgent look. “And why, pray tell, the fuck not?”
Kaldur took a sip of his own coffee. “I will not risk bringing harm to others while Barbara is still without a plan, Wallace.”
Wally set his mug down, leaning forward on his elbow. “First off,” he said, raising a finger, “Don’t call me Wallace. Second off, hey dude? We’re all dangerous. You’re not special.”
Kaldur sat back in his own chair, prim. “And how many souls have you fed your god?”
Wally grimaced. “Not my point.”
Kaldur crossed his legs. “And it remains mine. Leave.”
Wally glared, standing. “God, I forgot how annoying your self-righteous schtick can be. Don’t know how Roy puts up with you. No, dude,” Wally slicked his hair back, fixing on a winning smile. He extended his hand to Kaldur, beckoning. “Not unless you’re ready to come with, drama queen.”
“It appears I wasn’t clear. My apologies,” Kaldur sighed, setting his cup down with a firm clink. He fixed Wally with a cold green stare. “Leave me alone.”
The Vast’s avatar had enough time to scowl. “Oh fuck y—”
And then he was gone.
Kaldur uncrossed his legs, balancing shaky elbows on braced knees as he buried his head in his hands. Sweat prickled his brow. Banishing another Avatar was always difficult, but Kaldur was amongst the strongest of their generation. And he’d been doing this for a longer time than most people his age. Certainly much longer than Wally West.
Kaldur had just enough time to mull over the greater implications of Wally’s words before something landed with a loud thud on the deck.
Loud, wet footsteps stomped rapidly down the stairs. Wally, looking like a soaked ginger cat in his waterlogged Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, flung out a shaking finger to point accusingly at Kaldur. He was missing a sandal. “That was fucking cold.”
Kaldur raised a brow. “Then go somewhere warm.” With a decisive flick of his wrist, Wally was gone. Again.
Kaldur had just enough time to catch his breath before another resounding thud came from overhead. This time Wally launched himself down the stairs, eyes furious as he reached for Kaldur. Kaldur made another sharp gesture, vanishing the redhead moments before his shaking fingers could close on Kaldur’s collar.
This sequence of events more or less repeated for a half hour. Kaldur amassed a barricade between himself and the stairs to keep the increasingly furious physicist at bay. They were both trembling, Kaldur’s sweater having soaked through with sweat. Wally, increasingly pale and drenched from his plunges into the freezing oceans, limped down the stairs after their tenth round.
“You. Are. Ridiculous,” Wally panted, clinging shakily to the stair railing.
“If you continue this foolishness, you’re going to drown in the Atlantic,” Kaldur shot back breathlessly from where he’d collapsed back onto his bunk in the far corner of the cabin. “Conserve your energy. Go home.”
“Stop being a bitch and come with me,” Wally hissed. “You can’t out stubborn me, Kal.”
“Goodbye, Wally.” With a grunt of effort, Kaldur sat up and waved his hand, banishing the ginger again. Alone, he collapsed back against the thin mattress, gasping for breath.
No thud sounded overhead. The screams of seagulls and the slap of waves against the small boat were the only sounds that greeted him.
Kaldur caught his breath, allowing his eyes to close as he listened to the screech of the gulls. After a few long seconds, he hauled himself up, snagging an inflatable emergency raft on his way up the stairs. Quickly throwing a survival kit and two life jackets over one shoulder, Kaldur grabbed Wally’s discarded drink, squeezing his eyes shut as he focused on the younger man’s presence. Finding was never Kaldur’s forte, and as an avatar of The Vast Wally would be especially difficult to find in the ocean.
But Kaldur, for all his youthful best intentions, was a fully realized avatar of The Forsaken. Wally was drowning, terrified, and alone. And that fear sung to Kaldur’s god like blood to a shark.
Quickly, Kaldur inflated the raft, lashing the life jackets and emergency kits to the inside. He removed his boots and coat, then grabbed hold of the outer rope.
Squeezing his eyes tight, Kaldur allowed himself something he’d starved himself of for months. He pictured Wally, visualized his exhausted arms failing, slowing in the water. That wild head of red hair sinking beneath the freezing waves into the empty black.
Kaldur pictured his drowning friend’s loneliness and allowed himself to feed.
The icy water punched the breath from Kaldur’s lungs. Luckily he had always been a powerful swimmer, and more immune to the cold than most. He ducked under the water, kicking down into the depths. It was too dark to see, so he allowed the addictive fear of Wally’s mind to guide him. Seconds, hours later, Kaldur’s laid hand on a flailing limb. Quickly he grasped Wally around the middle, kicking them both up to the dim light.
They broke the surface seconds later, gasping. Kaldur managed to tow Wally along to the raft, unhooking one of the lifejackets from the side and wrestling Wally into it. That accomplished, he pushed himself into the raft, reaching down into the water to haul Wally after him.
Kaldur accomplished the next steps of rescue silently. Shaking, Wally could barely help strip himself of his soaked clothes, teeth chattering around rasping coughs. Once Wally was bare, save the lifejacket, Kaldur swiftly wrapped him in a blanket
Kaldur stripped next, wrapping himself in another emergency blanket as he set up the emergency heater to boil water for cocoa. Hot, sugary liquids were the best thing for someone coming out of hypothermia. Once the water was done Kaldur pressed a tin mug full of the stale, lumpy hot chocolate into Wally’s shaking hands. Then he settled next to the shivering ginger on the raft, rearranging their blankets so Wally could leach some of Kaldur’s body heat.
After spilling a good third of the mug, Wally finally got some cocoa down. His shivering died off gradually, going from wracking tremors to normal teeth chattering.
Kaldur finished his own mug of cocoa, gagging at the taste. He’d never been a fan of sugar. “Please don’t do that again.”
Wally’s teeth chattered. He stared at Kaldur, squinting peevishly. “Think that's my line, dude.”
Kaldur took one of Wally’s hands in his own, rubbing it rapidly to bring warmth back into the pallid skin. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”
“Not a fucking chance,” Wally grinned, pressing closer under the emergency blanket. “Promised I’d bring you back. There’s some very dangerous people who will kick my ass if I break that promise. Who miss you, by the way, asshole.”
Kaldur set down one hand, taking the other. He kept his eyes set studiously on Wally’s hands, watching pink rush back into the pallid skin. “I’m not worth this.”
“Dude, you just handed me my ass on the closest thing I have to a home turf inside the atmosphere.” Wally tugged his hand from Kaldur’s, setting both on the other man’s tattooed shoulders. He shook Kaldur gently until the other man looked up at him.
Wally smiled, teeth still gently chattering together. “You’re stupid strong. I know it's like, the opposite of what you’re comfortable with? But we need you. And not just for your cheery disposition.”
Kaldur colored, dark cheeks flushing. He shrugged off Wally’s hands, instead pressing closer and tugging the emergency blankets tighter around the both of them. Silence sat heavy between them as they watched the little camp stove bring more water to a steaming boil. “How many will die, if Barbara is right?”
Wally scrubbed his hands through his wet hair, shaking red curls out like a dog. “Everyone, man.”
Kaldur held his breath. Let it go, gradually. Remembered a different time in his life, huddled with a different redhead under the serene peace of the night stars. It wasn’t that long ago. His agoraphobia had been getting better before the hospital ward.
Before, out of his depth and panicking, Kaldur had taken fifty Corruption infected victims and fed them to The Lonely. “I don’t want to return to what I was.”
Wally shifted closer, bumping his knee against Kaldur’s own. “You’ve got people this time. We’ll keep you in check.” The human warmth of him was comforting, especially as the adrenalin of rescue wore off. Kaldur could feel the crushing anxiety of the open sky and ocean creep back up his spine. His agoraphobia was always worse when he was tired. Wally continued, “I mean, we’ve figured out fixes for the rest of us. Just. Trust us.”
“You know it is different for me,” Kaldur said slowly. “There is a reason I am what I am, Wally.”
Wally laughed. “Dramatic? Insufferable self effacing? Kind of a cold fish?” When Kaldur didn’t reply, Wally shrugged, throwing an arm over Kaldur’s shoulder and pulling him close. “Nah, man, I get it. You weren’t a random pick.” Wally gripped Kaldur’s shoulder, shaking him a little. “What you don’t get is that we’re all like that. If you don’t jive with your entity, it just eats you.”
Kaldur raised a brow. “Jive.”
“Shut up, I’m hypothermic,” Wally shot back. A few seconds passed. “When can we get out of here?”
“I’d like to retrieve my boat. And some clothes.”
“So no popping back into the manor, bare-ass naked and entangled in one another’s arms?” Wally waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Kaldur thought he might be attempting a wink, but it just looked like something had gotten into the physicist’s eye.
Kaldur still smiled, despite himself. Barbara really had chosen well, sending Wally to retrieve him. And not just because of the other man’s entity-granted power set. Wally had a talent for making it difficult for people to take themselves too seriously. And, being somewhat self-aware, Kaldur could appreciate that he was, at times, a little ‘dramatic’. “I think Roy’s suffered enough on my behalf without having to witness that.”
Wally grinned. “Spoilsport.”
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A/N: One part of a WIP The Magnus Archives/Young Justice cross over I’ve been mulling over for over a year now. Kaldur is an Avatar of The Lonely because, well, DUH, and Wally is an Avatar of the Vast because of lightning imagery and the fear of being insignificant (a major fear in his season 1 incarnation, it seemed). Let me know what y’all think!
#wally west#kid flash#kaldur#aqualad#kaldur'ahm#young justice#the magnus archives#tma#tma crossover#young justice crossover#mine#yj
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𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒃𝒊𝒄 - 𝑰
My name is Yukiji Genmei. I am the daughter of Ayano Fujiki and Endo Genmei. My role in this perfect nuclear family is to be the perfect future empress. I obey every command given to me. I do everything correctly with no hesitation. I don't have time for silly, trivial things like the other children. According to my mother, I am special. A diamond in the rough.
She used to tell me how one day I would grow up to rule Japan all on my own. Mother was always so proud of me. Now, not so much. But business must go on as usual; the world stops for no one.
Today is the coronation for my eldest sister, as Empress of Japan. I am next in line for the crown, then my youngest sibling.
"And here is your crown. May our Empress ever be in good health and happiness as long as she rules."
Suddenly everyone is cheering. Maybe I should pay attention more. It seems I've missed my sister's crowning. Oh, I hate the loud crowd of people so. Tsunobi calls me agoraphobic. I just tell her that I'm shy, but I think we both know.
Soon, my sister's coronation is over and I'm headed back to my room. It's much more peaceful and quiet there. I don't have to be near the loud and annoying people. Still, I wish I could face them. Should the Empress not be familiar and relatable with her people? Anyways, I have been having thoughts of sneaking outside the palace. My fear of people is deeply constricting, and I need to better myself before becoming Empress. My plan is to leave at midnight and return before the early morning. Hopefully it turns successful, unlike my previous attempts.
—-
Midnight would soon fall and Yukiji's plan would be put into place. Her sisters were already off to bed after a long and tiring day, while Yukiji made an excuse to stay up longer than normally allowed. She sat on her bed and strummed her koto harmoniously. Her fingers danced across the strings like a routine, and they slowly glided into a melody from her past. The tune reminded Yukiji of none other than her mother. She remembered the time long ago when her mother would gracefully hum the uplifting tune to help her daughter fall gently asleep.
"Hush my darling, rest your head on your pillow and let go of your troubles; let them go, let them go..."
Yukiji snapped out of her nostalgic trance and brought her attention back to the koto in her arms. "Mother...one day I'll see you again."
She put the instrument down and fixed her kimono neatly, then straightening her family's crest resting on her headpiece. Standing up, Yukiji stripped herself of her palace clothes and slipped on her nightgown and dress shoes. She reached for the lantern sitting on her nightstand and held it close. Climbing quietly out of the room, Yukiji hoped and prayed that no one would notice her absence as she was in the city. It would be a nightmare filled with her sisters' rage to expect if she were caught. She started to swiftly run through the palace's large garden surrounding the premise. As Yukiji looked back to make sure no one had seen her, she suddenly tripped over a flower patch and stumbled onto the ground. "Ugh..." She quickly pulled herself up and shook the dirt off her nightgown and face, "Great, I'm all dirty now. What will Tsunobi think when I return?"
Yukiji continued on, running with her nightgown tucked tight around her as to not trip again. She swung herself over the palace walls, which were quite short, and took off once more. The night sky glimmered and the wind whispered. She traveled on until a bright, yellow light hit her face. She had finally hit the city. She breathed a heavy smile and relaxed her tense muscles. Yukiji Genmei would finally get to be normal and blend in with the crowds.
She had a chance to conquer her agoraphobia.
The bustling of the city blared in the princesses' ears. It was loud in every square inch of the city, and it was a sight to behold. Yukiji was not familiar with this menagerie and had a hard time accepting it. Blinding lights from all around reached her eyes. The smells of late night food stalls and women's perfume was wafting through the air. Yukiji was ready to brave the city as to experience these heightened senses longer. She breathed in the cool air and stepped forward into the light. "Amazing," she whispered under her breath. The sight was stunning. She stepped out into the crowd and was immediately swept into a craze of people all around her.
Yukiji had never experienced this before, so she had little idea about what to do. What to do first? The shops? The food stalls? How was she supposed to just communicate with strangers without being anxious? It was all too confusing to her, and Yukiji couldn't figure out this mess. She had finally decided to take a few deep breaths before shifting over to the shops. "Breathe...breathe Genmei. You're the princess. You must remain calm."
Her hands shook and her breathing grew shaky, but she stepped out from beside the stores anyways. Few people cared to notice her presence, let alone recognize her as princess of Japan. "Exc-excuse me, can you tell me where-" The man with his wife passed right by her without giving the girl a second thought. "Um, hello, could you help me-" Another. And another, and another and another. Yukiji felt the heat rise up in her cheeks. The fear inside her was bubbling. She started breathing heavily, and clutched her dress tightly. Her lantern slipped from her fingers and shattered on the hard ground, but yet again, no one noticed. Yukiji's heavy breathing increased rapidly as she struggled to gasp for air. She quickly turned on her heels and bolted into the Midnight Forest, on the outskirts of the city.
Yukiji ran as fast as she could and flung herself onto the cold, fluffy snow. She sighed and closed her dainty eyes to get some rest and calm down a bit. "I need to get out of here."
She started to make her way back to the palace, while quickly losing her breath once again. Her nightgown suddenly got caught on a loose brush, and Yukiji stopped cold in her tracks to free herself. As soon as she ripped the cloth off of the plant, she continued to run. Her eyes darted around, searching for a way out of the forest.
When she spotted a lit up area of land, she whipped her body around and dashed to the spot. She had finally found a way out. Her heart pounded in her chest and she could hear her heartbeat pounding like a drum in her ears. As soon as she got to the edge of the forest, the palace was in sight. "Finally," Yukiji breathed. She took off her uncomfortable dress shoes and pushed her way through large trees in the garden, then hoisted herself up onto the windowsill of her room. She wondered why the room wasn't lit, like how she left it, but she paid it no mind. Pulling off her dirty nightgown and shimmying into a clean one, Yukiji sighed. She turned to her bed and started to climb in before she noticed a peculiar smell. Blood?...Could it be? Her eyes narrowed before turning to the door.
All went silent. Yukiji's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Blood was trailing from outside her door and down the hall. The princess slowly walked to the doorway before peeking her head around the corner. "Hello? Is anyone there?" Her voice became shaky as she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. The suspense was strong and fear took over her heart when she saw the stray trail of crimson liquid. "H-Hello? Alright, who is there? Sh- show yourself."
Yukiji felt overwhelming nervousness shaking her to her core. She carefully walked down the hallway and into the room that the blood led to. And...someone? In the room she saw someone sitting over what looked like another person. Only, this figure was...
She tried to scream, but nothing came out.
There it sat. The terrifying creature. Eyes red with bloodlust and a hunger driving it to a feeding frenzy. And the monster was feasting on...Tsunobi. "W-What are you doing? Stop! That is my sister!" Yukiji immediately regretted her words of anger and disgust she threw at the beast. It hadn't noticed her presence before, but it sure did now. She screamed as she tried to back away, but her body was frozen. Those piercing eyes were stuck on her, and they looked intense, ever so longingly wanting her blood. That royal blood. Yukiji fell as her shrieks engulfed all other noises. She backed herself against the wall and shut her eyes tight. Suddenly, she opened her deep brown orbs and was face to face with the demon. Her heart was pumping a mile a minute. She tried to run but couldn't. Suddenly, he spoke.
"Hello there, princess."
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The Ultimate Weapon, chapter 16
Remember when Loki was alive? Good times... :’(
I made it up to the control room, I’m not sure how. My heart was beating fast. I knew some of the team had been out on missions while I’d been recovering, but I’d never been asked to go along. What had changed? Did they feel they could trust me now, or was there something out there that they needed me for?
As I walked in, I could see Steve, Bucky and Tony standing around a screen and talking. Nat and Clint were probably off prepping weapons and Bruce would be getting the quinjet ready. I didn’t know where Wanda or Sam were, maybe they just wanted an extra member? I coughed slightly, to let them know I was there, then felt eyes on my back and turned, realising that Thor and Loki had come in behind me. Loki as usual held eye contact with me for just longer than was comfortable.
Yesterday, I’d been feeling OK, today I was all nerves again. I didn’t even know still if I could leave the building, what use would I be if I had a panic attack and couldn’t even leave the jet?
My cough had alerted them that I was there, and Steve waved me into the room. Tony crossed his arms and leant back against the table, while Steve started to explain, and I became aware that there were more eyes on me – everyone was watching to see what my reaction would be. This was starting to feel wrong.
“We’ve been using the data you’ve been pulling together, along with some extra intel that Nat and Clint brought back from the last mission. We’ve found another stronghold, a real deep cover base, like the one we found you in. We don’t know what’s in there exactly but Hydra have done everything they can to cover their tracks. We’ve got word there could be Hydra tech in there, plus some pretty high-ups.” He paused, but I had nothing to add – this sounded like a lot of missions they’d been on before so I still wasn’t clear what I was there for.
“Thing is Mole; we think your handler might be there” That was Tony. I turned to him, confused. “The guy who took you. Led your, well, let’s call it training. Took you out on missions. His name’s Rumlow and he’s been off the radar for a while, but we’ve had cameras trained on the base for a few days, since we found it and we think we’ve ID’d him.”
Tony spun the screen across the table towards me, and I grabbed at it before it slid off. As my hand caught it, I saw the picture that was displayed. It was grainy, low quality, and from a bad angle, but I knew that face. I dropped the screen onto the table and pushed my chair back, involuntarily, wanting to get away from that picture. I saw Steve and Tony exchange a glance and tried to take control of myself.
“I want in. On this mission. I want to be there” I said. I could feel my training kick in, my body was releasing chemicals to stimulate my muscles, my lungs were working harder to oxygenate my blood, and my mind was setting into cold hard channels, ready to comply. A small part of my mind cried as I felt my hard-won humanity slipping away but this was what I was made for and I should never have tried to escape. I saw Bucky become aware of the changes and look at me with sadness in his eyes before dropping his head to his chest, but I had to do this. There was a long pause, and then it was Bucky who spoke. Perhaps he was the only one who could ask this question.
“Can we trust you? Can we trust you to go for Hydra and not to make us your mission? Because we will have to take you out if you turn, you know that? The mission is always more than one person, and we can’t have it jeopardised.” I nodded. My life wasn’t important any more, just the mission, that made sense.
“Understood. But it won’t be a problem. I set my own missions now. And I want Rumlow.” Silence again then Clint spoke from behind me, where he’d just stepped into the room with Natasha. We hadn’t had much to do with each other so far but he’d seemed like a nice guy, but I hadn’t realised he was as perceptive as it now seemed.
“You do your mission. We’ll do ours – destroy Hydra, take out the base, gather intel. Then when it’s over, you come back, and you let us find you again. Help you find yourself. OK?” My body was too mission-ready to fully understand the kindness of his words but I nodded and gave him a smile. I didn’t believe it was possible again but if it made him feel better, let him think that was the plan. My mission now was to kill Rumlow, and I wasn’t bothered about my life.
It was a sober team that loaded up the quinjet and set off. I was pleased to find that the chemicals flooding my system stopped me from feeling the agoraphobia that would otherwise have hit me. We settled in to the jet as it flew on autopilot, I wasn’t sure exactly where we were going but we had a few hours’ flight time still. Tony set out the photos and plans they’d been able to find, and we started discussing tactics.
We landed the jet away from the base and set off on foot under cover of night. There was no talking, we all knew the plan and our roles in it, and the first part went off smoothly. Guards patrolling were taken out – alive where possible, for intel; if it wasn’t possible, then none of us cried about it. We saw the base entrance and Clint took out the two guards within seconds with his bow, then fired an explosive arrow at the doors. Within seconds, we were inside. Bruce had stayed back at the jet as a last resort, and everyone knew their part to play. Tony took off towards where we suspected the computer centre would be. Nat and Clint headed off into the main part of the base to take out as many as possible. Bucky, Steve and I split up and each went down one of the main branches leading off from the doors. According to our intel, these corridors should all meet up at the back of the base, so if we all cleared our paths, all should go smoothly.
I didn’t give any thought to the others as I made my way along. From a guard captured a week ago, we’d learnt that the command centre should be along this path, and that was where I hoped to find Rumlow, and why I’d been given this route to check. I easily took out soldiers who attacked me, my body on high alert and functioning at much higher capacity than these non-enhanced men and women. I cleared rooms as I went, making sure there was no-one who could come at me from behind. The base wasn’t heavily manned and I knew that it was Rumlow and the data that had really brought the team here.
I was purposeful, driven, and calm as I made my way through, then I sensed him. For six years he had led my training, from teenage girl to enhanced assassin. He’d supervised torture, and personally carried out much of it himself. He’d given me missions and sent me out to fight. He’d encoded himself into me so deeply that I could feel him ahead of me, and I wanted him out of my head.
Mission protocol went out of the window and my attacks became more frenzied. I could hear chatter in my ear piece but wasn’t really aware of what was being said, although I heard my name mentioned and tuned in to hear that Nat and Clint were coming towards me having cleared their area. I didn’t care. I wasn’t clinical any more, I was slamming soldiers into the walls and ceiling, hearing bones crack, uncaring. This would take a toll on my mental state at some point if I survived, but right now I felt like a predator on the scent of my prey.
I found Rumlow in a large office, designed to look as if it was in a beautiful home rather than a concrete bunker. I heard noises in my ear piece again, ‘she’s gone off protocol, you’d better get here Buck’, Nat’s voice, but I ignored it.
I saw him pale when he realised who I was, but then smirk and assume that he could control me. He spoke to me and I felt my body start to react to the sound of his voice, but jumped over his desk and clamped my hand over his mouth.
“You don’t get to speak”, I growled, and felt his fear as he saw that he wasn’t in control. No-one was in control of me now, including myself. Just anger. I punched him hard in the stomach and he doubled over, gasping.
“You broke me” I said, my voice harsh. “I want to break you”. He was a soldier himself, and fought back hard, knowing he was fighting for his life, but by the time Natasha and Clint had reached the room, a few moments later, he was bloody and bruised. I had a few knife wounds and a bullet hole to my upper arm that I hadn’t even felt, but was otherwise untouched.
As they came in, Nat called my name, “Ruby, bring him in alive so we can find out what we need to know”, but I wasn’t listening. I couldn’t. We continued to fight, Rumlow always taking the worst of it as I threw him against walls, punched, kicked, unrestrained now. At one point I threw him and he went over his desk, landing hard on the other side. Nat and Clint were standing back, aware now that they couldn’t stop this anymore than I could. Rumlow didn’t emerge from behind the desk and I moved forward, then sensed something. Instantly, I threw up the strongest mind-shield I could, and yelled ‘get out, bomb!’, pushing with my mind so that all the team had started stumbling for the exits before they’d even understood my words.
I grabbed at Rumlow and saw that as he’d fallen behind the desk, he’d pressed a button hidden at the back. There were obviously explosives all across the base, triggered to blow. I fell to my knees as the explosions started but I was holding the integrity of the building together with my mind. Rumlow leered up at me, “you’ve failed, soldier” he spat through bloody teeth but one more punch and he lay still on the floor.
By now I was on my hands and knees, having to hold myself up by sheer will as I used my mind to protect my team. I wasn’t capable of conscious thought anymore, but ‘protect them’ was my one driving force.
Bruce, out in the quinjet, had heard my shout and opened the doors to get the team on board. They arrived, forced out by my mind’s push and turned to see what they’d been forced away from. The building was breaking apart, but in slow motion. As the walls and roof exploded outwards, a forcefield was holding the pieces in stasis, slowing their fall to give the team time to get out. The field was all centred around me, where I knelt, gritted teeth, and bleeding from my eyes and nose with the power I was exerting.
My voice came over their earpieces and they could hear the strain in the words. “Is… everybody… out?” Steve’s voice came back over my earpiece as he said “we’re out, you need to get out too, where are you?” but that was all I needed to hear. I was at the limit of what my mind and body could hold and now that the team were safe, I let go. Finally, the noise of the explosion was unleashed, almost feeling louder after being held back so long. The pieces of breaking building suddenly exploded outwards, freed from their restraints, and then as quickly started falling back to earth. I slumped forwards, onto Rumlow’s body, almost looking as if he was holding me gently but his heart had long stopped beating. Everything went black, and the debris began to hit.
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As soon as they’d felt the mind-shield drop, the team were running back towards the base, dodging falling pieces of building as they ran. Bucky continually called my name over the comlink as they ran, the others staying silent and letting his voice lead, but there was no response. The base had been wired to blow properly and there was little left standing when they reached the rubble, nothing even to show whereabouts I might have fought Rumlow.
Tony opened the visor on his Iron Man suit and looked around, then spoke. “Jarvis, anything on the trackers implanted on Ruby? Any sign?” There was a pause, and he shouted ‘Jarvis’ again loudly, impatient and scared.
Jarvis’s voice came through, impassionate as always. “The building was shielded which is interfering with the signals however I can detect a faint signal, I am sending the location to your suit Sir”. Within seconds, Tony had the possible location and the team were running across the debris, dodging fires that were starting and stumbling over broken building and bodies.
When they reached the area that Jarvis had pinpointed, they paused. No sound, no movement. Just broken concrete. Then Bucky bent and started heaving huge blocks of concrete out of the way, and the rest of the team joined in. Clint suddenly called out, he’d found a hand, and the team concentrated on more carefully pulling the debris away in that area.
They unearthed Rumlow’s face, and working down, found me. Tony instantly had Jarvis scan me and there was a long pause before he said “signs of life detected, but severe internal injuries. No spinal damage detected, it should be safe to move her”. With a thread of my mind power remaining, I’d held the slightest forcefield over me even as I slumped into unconsciousness. Although it hadn’t been enough to protect me from the falling rubble, it had slowed its descent, so that instead of being hit by a barrage, I was gently buried instead.
I had, of course, no memory of being carried back to the quinjet, the flight back to Stark Tower, or my time in the medlab. While the team debriefed and watched cam-footage that we’d each been recording, they were silent, until finally Natasha spoke.
“She was… is deadly. We can’t disregard that. She broke protocol and went on a killing spree. But.” She paused. “She also saved us. All of us. Even in the midst of that mayhem, that rage, she protected us. Her instincts were to save us. We have to remember that, that’s the bit that matters”. The team nodded, but there was no joy, knowing that I was still lying, half-dead, under Dr Cho’s care.
While the team focussed on my altruism, how I’d saved them even while barely human, when I finally awoke, my first thoughts were to the monster I’d become. I blinked my eyes open and recognised the medlab. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there but it must have been some time as even with the serum and the IV lines I was yet again hooked up to, some days must have passed to start to heal me so well. I could feel the wounds on my body and face from the guns, knives and explosion, but they all seemed to be fine. My mind, however, was not.
Over and over, I kept remembering how I had lost all my humanity. It had been going from the moment I saw Rumlow’s face on the screen, and when I sensed him I lost everything. I became an animal, a killing machine, a monster, a murderer. My only thought had been to destroy Rumlow and everything he stood for.
When Tony and Natasha came into the lab later to check on me, I couldn’t look at them. They saw I was awake and started to speak but I couldn’t bear to listen and shut them out. I knew they would accuse me of being inhuman. They must want me gone. All the fears and anxieties that had started to dissolve over the last few weeks reared up again. I wasn’t part of this team, I wasn’t part of this species. I was disgusting, nobody could ever want to be near me, knowing that I was out of control. I lay, trapped in my own self-hatred, and rejected anyone who came in to speak to me. I had reverted to the way I had been after my memories returned, but where then I had thought I’d been able to reject that part of me, now I knew that was all there was to me.
Eventually my body healed, but I still hadn’t spoken. Team members had come in and out, trying to reach me, and I had seen Bucky sit and watch me with a broken look in his eyes, but I truly believed that they must all despise me for a monster. By the end of a week, I was healed enough to be up and moving, thanks to the serum, when Loki walked in. I hadn’t realised he and his brother were still here, and watched him warily.
He sat on the chair near my bed, as I stood next to it, paused in the act of getting up. He smiled at me, dangerously, and spoke.
“I hear you saved the team. But of course, that was after you succumbed to all that training. Hydra obviously did a good job on you.” His soft voice didn’t match the harshness of his words as he continued. “They all think you’re a danger. Unstable. They haven’t decided what to do with you but perhaps another cell like Hydra had, buried deep under the ground. There’s no place for you here.”
I heard his words, and they mimicked everything I already thought. I also felt something pushing its way into my mind, like a snake entering, insinuating itself into my thoughts. The snake shut out any other voices, until all I could hear were the sounds of my own thoughts repeating ‘you’re a danger. There’s no place for you’ over and over. I had hoped this could be a home, but now I knew I had to leave. I couldn’t risk the lives of people I wanted to care for, and they didn’t want me here.
I didn’t hear Loki get up, but sensed him moving and looked up to see him grinning at me with pleasure in is smile but hatred in his eyes. None of it made any sense anymore, but the snake kept whispering to me and I listened.
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My spiritual war began half a lifetime ago. And I will carry it on even after I'm dead one day. Ω
Most people are raised with a religion or beliefs.
Some of them lose faith. Some become atheists. Some stay where they are in believing.
I I suppose I haven't fully stopped believing in a spiritual power/experience.
Call it the "God Gene" (VMAT2) or illogical stupidity, But I just can't purge that notion from my head.
According to the God Gene Hypothesis: "Spirituality is supposed to provide an evolutionary advantage by providing individuals with an innate sense of optimism."
I do not feel that optimism that there is a God or sentient universe out there. Or that "God has a plan".
I feel unspeakably betrayed.
When I was a young kid. I think I was very well behaved. I cared. I had a great heart. If that wasn't good enough for any god. Then they don't follow their own teachings.
When I got to middle school. I was scared. Three local schools were merged all my friends were lost in the shuffle. I thought it'll be difficult to make new friends, but I had hope.
Well, that hope wasn't lost. It was gouged out and raped from my spirit. Not just spiritually but my spirit of hope caring and goodness.
The bullying. They called me faggot, poor boy, foreigner (born here but was given a "foreign" name) on and on. They spit in my books. They knocked my books out of my hands everyday, between every class. Choked me, beat me, spit on me. There wasn't just a group, the group spread rumors and enlisted others in their attacks on me. Even my old friends from elementary school abandoned me because association with me was repugnant to their social standing. I once saw a buddy from elementary and said hello at his locker only to be ignored like I didn't exist.
Those 2 years of middle school left me completely empty. I remember I went to sleep every weeknight praying to die in my sleep. Ashamed at how that would hurt my parents if it came true. Then I would be woken up for school the next morning secretly crying because I was still alive and had to go through another day.
If there was a gun I would have gladly killed every one of those motherfuckers who were bullying me.
Especially Chas. He was the one who got the ball rolling on my destruction. How a dickhead who was seemingly proud of his failure of the 7th grade the year before I came there had such social clout with these pieces of shit I'll never understand.
High school was hell, but it slowly matured. Not without its own degrading moments where I was bullied or attacked or pushed down or spit on. But I think those who were there were preparing for their college or next step.
My grades were average. My spirit was broken already. My hope was nowhere. I was lucky to graduate probably.
I'm no longer normal. Those years of abuse at school changed me irrevocably. Everyday for 2 years. Non-stop. Physical, emotional, mental, pen tips pressed into the back of my neck till a bled. A pen cap pushed into my ear luckily it didn't hit my ear drum.
Principals, counselors, nobody did anything. Anything they did do was either a warning or giving me a punishment for retaliations.
I was punished for someone abusing me.
So I dropped out of local community college after a spotty 2 years. Continued schooling just came with anxieties and fear. I'd already had my life's share of that. I needed surgery and after I just let go of further education. Of a career of any kind.
Now I'm 33, soon to be 34. And these things that have effected me since half my life ago still affect me today. Call it C-PTSD or anxiety or trauma, social phobia, agoraphobia. It's all the same to me.
The bullies are gone but make no mistake theyre haunting me.
So where the fuck was God?
Where was his miracle for me?
Why didn't he spilt the red sea for me? I'm not as important as Moses. Where was his warning that I should build a boat like Noah?
No burning bush, no "hey Abraham, go kill your son", nothing. Not from this god or any fucking god.
Not once.
But some stupid genetic marker (VMAT2) anchors me to believe?
In the years since school I went through the divorce of my parents which was particularly hard if you knew me you'd understand.
My dad needed a 2nd open heart surgery which led to a big stroke from a clot that broke off. His arm and leg that were effected mostly came back. But his mind was effected permanently. The parts of the brain that were injured left him with memory problems. He couldn't live on his own, he'd already come back home with my mom and me before that to live with us after a hard hip replacement surgery.
Then I went through my mother's surprise lung cancer diagnosis, surgery, and so far no signs of it returning. Luckily it was found early after she had a cold and cough they wouldn't go away and got a chest x-ray.
Now my dad 4.5 years after his stroke and ongoing memory problems, he woke up yesterday the happiest man who ever lived, he had so much love and kisses and hugs to give.
But shockingly he completely forgot who I was. He thought I was a visiting neighbor. He forgot who my mom was. But he was happy to meet his son and wife for the first time again in this new place (it's the same place and the same people he'd always known before).
But I am crushed. I'm so deeply affected. He's happy and jolly enough for 3 people to meet us...
But my mom and I are very sad. It's such a shock. While he is thankfully happy and comfortable with his 'new family' that we are. I've cried more than my muted emotions have let me cry in the last 15 years.
He told me he's sorry that he missed being part of my life before now. Nothing cut my heart up quite like that. He apologizes for not knowing or recognizing me.
I've been betrayed by God all my life or at least that VMAT2 gene chemically telling my brain there's a higher power.
I'm just not important enough. No miracles to help me get out of this PTSD or my other medical issues. No reprieve from these life threatening illnesses my parents got one after the other. And now my father doesn't know who I am anymore.
Maybe god like those bullies just hate me too? If were created in his image then he's as capable of hate and torturing as we his human creations are.
After all he made a bet with the devil that Job in the bible would keep the faith in God no matter what god did to him. He gave him diseases, killed his livestock, killed his family with sickness, and burned down his house. But the dumb motherfucker still loved god.
He gave him all be house, animals and family after the ordeal, but the other wife and children didn't deserve to die for a bet. "But they went to heaven". They still had potential energy, lives to live grow old and have their own families, but "God" killed them to prove he was right in bet to the devil. That an idiot would still love him after all that.
So maybe I can't stop believing in God, or have some leftover spirituality.
But I'm not as fucking forgiving ad that dumb motherfucker Job. But I'm also not willing to just walk away from God's game. I'm more than ever cemented my hate for God. I'm giving the devil sympathy or joining his side. If there is such a thing.
I'm instead giving God - ALL MY HATE.
I've got infinite amounts of anger and hate in me. For every millisecond of my torture in school I hate those pieces of shit, at one point that was all that kept me from killing myself. I'm filled to overflowing.
Now there's nothing and no one I hate more than God. I don't care about abortion, I don't care about pollution, I don't care about animals raised in cages and mutilated.
My dad is apologizing to me for what his stroke did to make him forget me. He's apologizing to me with regret, shame and love in his eyes for something that's not his fault.
WHERE IS GOD!? hmm? His love and miracles? His bullshit?!
God. Guardian Angels? Any God or Goddess. Any religion, pagan gods, gods that we don't even know existed. Where are they? Spirits? Demons? Satan himself? Useless.
I have declared a war on God deep down in my soul. I'm not here to preach or change your religion, make you an atheist or garner views or to promote the devil.
But rest assured I am going to kill God. My determination is absolute.
Not in a social or political sense, I'm not going to become Nietzsche 2.0.
I'm going to prepare my heart and soul. My physical body, my mental attitude, my spirit, my soul. My life might go until I'm 120 years old and I'm fine with that.
But God will know fear because I will teach it to him. God has a death wish and I'm that wish come true.
You think Abu Ghraib looked terrible? What I do to God will make that seem like a Kumbaya summer camp.
I don't know what god is, what makes a deity, fucked if know if such a thing even exists. But I will torture, maim, and kill God.
These neo-pagans with their "All Gods are one God."
That's fine by me. Get the all Gods in one place so I can kill that motherfucker with a smile on my face. Even if he's holding the universe together, like Atlas holding the world. If it means the end of all things then I'm more than satisfied to end reality.
If there's a physical aspect to him on some spiritual realm or whether it's simply a psychic thought of the living mind or some genetic predisposed delusion. Maybe I've lost my mind too, maybe there's nothing left but my madness.
My wrath makes God in the old Testament look like a spoiled 3 year old child. God will get what's coming to him.
He is mine and I am his.
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"Nor sleep, nor sanctuary, being naked, sick, the prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice shall lift up their rotten privilege and custom against my hate to Martius. Where I find him, were it at home, upon my brother's guard, even there, will I wash my fierce hand in his heart."
—AUFIDIUS; Shakespeare's "Coriolanus"
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"I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee."
—Caius Martius Coriolanus; play of the same name.
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Why Counselling Works
The Key to Change – Psychotherapy Neuroplasticity
Why Counselling Works
One of the first questions I always receive, particularly from skeptics and those who have never sought any form of mentoring, coaching, or counseling before, ask: “What is it that you do that actually seems to work, and have made such a profound change in my friend’s life?”You may find the answer to this question surprising. It is not actually anything that I “do,” but it is what I invite my clients to “do and discover” that initiates change! The tools we use as a team are psychological ones, which create physical changes in your brain!
Most of the clients in my counselling therapy Toronto practice come to me as a result of referrals. People with whom I have worked and who have experienced positive and or profound changes in their lives frequently honour our work together by sharing their newfound knowledge and ways of being with friends and family.
There is a popular saying in the sciences of neurology and psychology; “The neurons that fire together wired together… And the neurons that fire apart wire apart.” This saying stems out of some fairly recent research in which we have learned that the human brain can actually rewire itself, changing old behaviors, old habits, and old beliefs, to new behaviors habits and beliefs. This ability is called neuroplasticity. For many years it was thought that the human brain was molded in our childhood and remained rather static once we became an adult. Alas the old and false phrase, “You can’t teach old dogs new tricks!” But it turns out that Rover is more trainable than we thought!
Imagine that you lived in the country surrounded by hundreds of acres of wheat that stretched high into the blue sky a good 10 feet and more! Your best friend lived in a neighbouring farmhouse over a mile away on the other side of the wheat field. Each day for years you would walk your dog through the field on the same path you to have your morning coffee with your best friend. Years of repetitive walking throughwhy counselling works the same trail had laid down a very clear path through the otherwise obscuring wheat. You would have quickly reached the point where you had to give no thought whatsoever as to how to find your friend’s house, and you would naturally and intuitively follow the path that you had laid down over the years. On one morning walk your faithful dog veered off the trail following his nose to an unknown destination. You leave the trail in hot pursuit following the few strands of broken wheat only to catch up to your loyal canine buddy who continues to lead you through the wheat field and down the hill exiting out the front door of your friend’s house.
In the days that follow Rover continues to lead you down this new path that is becoming more self-evident with every use. Within a few weeks you no longer need Rover’s guidance as you can clearly find your way on your own, and after a few months you have totally neglected your old trail in favor of the new and more enjoyable path. In fact, by this time, the old trail has grown in with new stands of wheat and any attempt to follow the old path would prove pretty difficult.
The neurons in your brain are much like the wheat in the field. Over the years you have laid down neuron paths that connect things that you see hear and do, with an associated feeling and possible judgment. In less than a millisecond you’re brain travels these neural pathways. We now know these connections are no longer permanent. Through the consistent application of new approaches and ways of being in your world you can lay down new pathways which connect the things you see here and do, with the new associated feelings and judgments which serve you and your life goals in a much more positive and productive manner.By utilizing various tools and therapeutic approaches my clients are able to create these new pathways and lay them down as new and permanent ways of being. In our sessions clients learn how to create these new pathways with some very simple tools. Multiple approaches are used including cognitive therapy and others. Some issues may require more work then others as depression-hurts, change can be uncomfortable and issues like agoraphobia treatment are complex. Research confirms what my clients already know, Why Conselling Worksprofound change can happen within a week and lasting change can be created in as little as 1 to 4 months if they consistently apply themselves to walking on these new paths.The now scientifically excepted concept of neuroplasticity has only come about in the 1980’s and 90’s. It is always comforting when science confirms what humans have always known – you can always ‘change your mind!’
To book an appointment – in person in Toronto.
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hi everyone
it’s been ages since I have updated you all on my life and what has been going on. for quite a while I really haven’t had much energy to do much of anything. I’ve played a few visual novels here and there to keep myself from going crazy (literally) but other than that. All I’ve really done is stay in my room and sleep, stare at my computer blankly and just go through the motions to get through each day.
I didn’t want to bring anyone down with my lousy mood so I didn’t bother blogging. With this blog prominently being about gaming I didn’t really have much to say at the time. At times I did, but I just didn’t know how when my feelings were all a jumbled mess.
but things are changing both around here and somewhere else as well.
a very, very extremely long post after this cut. but, I wanted to give a full update of where in the heck I’ve been
I recently received some news the shook my whole world. one of the major events in addition to the low self-esteem I already had from my childhood though my mid-twenties was the two year relationship I had with a narcissistic man who wrecked my self image even more in the brief period of time. (someone who always “encouraged” me to change my appearance and just about everything about myself with backhanded compliments) and was unbenounced to me cheating behind my back. I was a fiance one moment and within six months I had been replaced with someone he had gotten pregnant.
I should have been able to put this behind me since it happened back when I was 25 (i’m 42 now) but between the years he would either email or pop up randomly at my family’s business to “say hello and catch up on things) he was married with children by then and I of course wanted nothing to do with him.
I have always struggled with anxiety and depression before I met him, but being with him and then after ending things having to deal with not knowing if he was going to turn up or randomly email me once in a while was stressful and I felt horrible for his wife as well. I knew that if he was doing this on occasion that there HAD to be at least somebody else that was not turning him down and I felt sick.
The last time I heard from him was before my family sold our business. he and his wife were ending things. (shocker she finally had had enough) but he had this *brilliant* idea that I was going to apparently drop everything I was doing and be a live in nanny to the children that he didn’t want to have with me. yeah, he not only wanted to hurt his wife he suggested something that was a twisted knife in the gut for me as well. and he asked with such a calm carefree look on his face like he hadn’t said the most terrifying thing I had ever heard in my life.
I looked at him, opened my mouth to respond and this series of “no’s started pouring out of my mouth. “no, no no, oh, no. no, no, no, no” He looked at me in shock, and I was even kind of shocked. and i’m like,. “ uh, sorry, but I can’t do anything like that. do you understand that what we had was an abusive relationship? I am having problems standing next to you right now. you’re constant negative opinion and criticism of me still causes emotional scarring to this day. there is no way I can go back to that kind of situation again. “
well, since that day I’ve never heard from him again. he was moving to another state. my family and I had soon after that sold our business and moved within the same city, but out of town onto our own property. I had put my facebook on private so that only people on my friendslist could see my profile and with my agoraphobia acting up I don’t really leave my house all that much so running into him was not going to be an issue.
as some of you know and have played many games over those 4 years. I was working on a master’s degree when I first started this blog and FINISHED IT! woo hoo! for the first time in my life I finally started to get real professional help about my mental health and I was finally diagnosed with the conditions that I have always suffered from. I have now been on proper medication for two years now and I feel much better. (I’d rather be ON my medication when I go through a rough period like I have recently then what I struggled with most of my life)
but in the midst of all of this I was always worried about doing too much online because I was afraid of attracting attention from him. I was on here sharing my gaming experiances and my playthroughs with photos and it had crossed my mind a time or two that it would be fun to do it on youtube, but anytime I thought of it I’d be frightened out of it by the thought of my phone ringing again.
well, at the beginning of the month I received a very surprising email. It was from his wife who I noticed was still using his last name. She had told me that she was looking through some things and due to her own emotional response to whatever she found..she thought of me and wanted to know how I was doing.
so, I replied that I was very shaky because I never thought that I’d here from her or him ever again. and she said well you do know he’s no longer here it’s just me and the boys now.
and I was like, yeah. I knew you guys were not together anymore. and then she sent me the most shocking story I will probably ever receive in my life. the reason she left him is because apparently he had upped his abusiveness after me and it finally became physical. they had 3 kids together. she was not only worried for herself but her kids as well. when he beat her she finally left. the cheating was bad enough, but she endured that for the sake of the kids, but she put the safety of them ahead of everything when he turned violent. On top of that. he came to see me and I let him know that OUR relationship was also an abusive one as well because verbal and emotional abuse is still abuse. when I left that relationship behind I had always recollected that if he would have hit me I would have recognized it as abuse. I shiver at the thought of how lucky I was to get out of that, but I, just as I told her, in no way at all feel good about her having to suffer after me. and she was with him for much much longer. I recognized that with her as we communicated for a bit.
but there’s more. sadly, when he was confronted with the story’s back to back of how much he was an abusive asshole, he drank more alcohol than he probably ever had in his entire life at that point and shot himself.
There really were things about the guy that are admirable. I wouldn’t have dated him for two years if I didn’t see that and she wouldn’t have been married to him if she hadn’t seen it as well. we both said the same thing. what we mourned the most was that we both saw the same great potential he had because he was truly brilliant.
but the thing is, i’m not going to sit here and wax poetically over a guy that abused me (and his wife) and then practically stalked me (or at least made me feel that way) because I NEVER knew when he was going to contact me. especially because his wife sweetly asked me not to contact him.
the only time I did (and she was aware of it) is that I got the best part of our ended relationship. our dog. Max was such a great dog. When he finally passed away since Max was originally his dog I thought it was appropriate to let him know. My mom and I had sighed with relief at the time because as sad as we were we had thought that the last link between the two of us would be gone and he’d leave me alone.
I was in a mixed state of emotions for the first week that I heard the news. sadness, hurt, loss, pain, but over all of that was this overwhelming sense of relief. I will never be ok that he committed suicide. when I said I wanted him out of my life I never believed it would be this way. I’m crying again at the thought. so don’t misunderstand when I say I feel relief.
I always had this creeping feeling. like someone was always hovering over my shoulder. watching everything I type and If I became too visible with what I was doing I kept thinking...well... I’m trying to be open with the gaming community..but... on my about me page I’ve added my link to my origin, steam even my flight rising account. what am I going to do if he starts his shit again? and there is no way in hell I could do youtube no matter how much I think it would be fun and no matter how much think talking out loud would be good for my mental and emotional health.
yes, this is a long rambling post not only to update you on some horrible news, but to also let you all know that in the upcoming months I am indeed going to start what I had been wanting to do for many years now.
I sure hope your still here because this is the big news!
I’m going to have a youtube channel that’s called the same thing as my blog Verly’s Gaming Life. The idea for the channel is that it is partly about my obsession with video games and how that balances out my GAD (generalized Anxiety Disorder, Dysthymia, and Agoraphobia.
I’m only going to play games that I have completed and love. There is no way I can do a first reaction video (not good for my anxiety) I am also a completionist gamer because it is one of the only situations in my life that I can control. it’s really one of the reasons that I love gaming in general. I can finally control something in my life. This is also why I never get too deeply involved within the game. like I get attached to the story hardcore, but I never become the character. I also make sure to keep an emotional distance from romantic characters in games.
I feel that people online seem to get, like, seriously overly attached to fictional characters. (and I say this with Penny and Thane still headlining my blog) they headline my blog because I’ve yet to find a story, that has captivated my heart like those too. but even so, I know that Thane was not a real person. I knew when people were going crazy online about the ending and I had to step away from BSN leaving some of my close personal friends behind while they were having a very very difficult time. I felt so tremendously bad for them, but I emotionally couldn’t do that.
with my anxiety, depression, and agoraphobia, I just couldn’t be more than painfully sad that my favorite character had died in a video game and than I added that painfulness to my story of how Penny would handle that. I won’t get into it because It’s not my story to tell, but there was a real important reason I personally wanted Penny to go into a relationship with Thane with her eyes open understanding that he didn’t have long to live and accepting that from the moment they started their relationship. that they cherished each day as they came and she tried to live like a drell so they could stay in her memories. That’s the story I wanted.
This is what I mean. I guess, when someone has a life living with mental illness we see the world in a different way and I want to share that experience with others.
Two days a week (monday and tuesday probably) I’m going to be playing my favorite rpgs (you all know what those are. lol) I’m going to start with the Mass Effect Trilogy and yes, I’m going to be playing Penny’s story.
on thursday and friday (casual friday) I plan to play my favorite visual novels and casual games that I’ve discovered over the past couple years. I really hope you check those out as well. Some have some amazingly deep stories and some are just cute. some of these games are just as involving and long as the rpgs are with stat raising, romances, an amazing female protagonist, some have complete voice acting (except for the MC which will be voiced by me anyway) and others do not. I even played one that had a base for the character, but let the person change the skin, eye and hair color of her. I thought that was pretty cool.
but in the midst of all of this on windsay I plan to upload, I guess a personal/progress diary of my mental/emotional health. because video games really are a huge part of my life the games I play can sometimes trigger an emotional response out of me. it might even trigger a painful memory. I might mention it while i’m filming that particular game of course, but I’ll be alaborating my feelings and how i’m doing on my weekly updates.
This is also a chance for my family and friends that don’t really understand me, heck, some of them haven’t even seen me in a long time because I’m so closed off in my room at times. I’m hoping the channel by me having to face a camera (yep, i’ve decided if i’m going to do this I might as well go all the way) will help me confront some of the issues I know I have get better.
no, I don’t plan to “make it big” this is really about my mental health. I no longer have the reason I was avoiding it to hold me back anymore. as sad as that reason is.
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Down the TBR Hole // To Read Soon – Part 1/4
Two more shelves and then I am finally done!
Now for those of you who don’t know, I’ve been doing the Down the TBR Hole posts as a way to organise my Goodreads shelves because oh boy, do they need it!
This has been a long road, much longer than I anticipated!
I wish that this being the second to last shelf means that I’m very close to being done but alas, no, it is not.
These two shelves are my biggest yet and come in at a total of 339 books! So in order to ensure that these posts aren’t incredibly long, I’ll be breaking them up a bit.
For my first To Read Soon Shelf post, I’ll be going through all the books I added from October 2015 to October 2016, which will make it 40 books total.
For my second post, I’ll be going through November 2016 to April 2017, totalling 51 books for that post.
For my third post, I’ll be going through May 2017 to October 2017, totalling 50 books.
For my final To Read Soon Shelf post, I’ll be going through November 2017 onward. totalling 55 books!
That brings this shelf’s total to 197 books!
When I set up these shelves it was my way of trying to prioritize my TBR but I don’t think it’s really worked at all. So while I’m going through these last shelves I’ll be moving the books I choose to keep to the normal Want to Read Shelf.
Before I had kept all my owned books on this shelf but I’ve moved them to a new TBR-Owned shelf.
I hope this new system is going to help me a lot more!
Now, this time around I’m going to try and be my most ruthless in purging these books because 339 books is ridiculous and I know I’m never gonna get around to all of them!
Added October 2015
1.│Winter Girls│Laurie Halse Anderson│
│ I added this because…I was interested in reading a book about anorexia at the time. Stay or Go? Go! As much there’s still a part of me that wants to read this, I know I shouldn’t for my own mental health as someone who has dealt with disordered eating in the past. That is a slippery slope I should try and avoid.
Added January 2016
2.│Firsts│Laurie Elizabeth Flynn│ I added this because…This book seems like it asks a lot of questions that may or may not be possible to answer. At least not easily. It’s a book that seems to live in the grey and guys…That’s my shit! Also, this sounds like the book version of Easy A and I loved that movie! Stay or Go? Stay!
3.│The Memory of Light│Added Jan 2016│
│ I added this because…“Somewhere in me I probably had the strength to not kill myself. But I was tired of looking for strength. Tired of being strong. That’s what I did to make it through… each day, go through the motions of being strong. I put on strong every morning. I’m sick of faking strong.” Stay or Go? Stay! Believe it or not, as someone who’s battled depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts, unlike disordered eating, I’m not really triggered by it. Or maybe that’s the wrong wording? Reading about suicide hasn’t ever been something that has made me more susceptible to being suicidal. Only feeling so utterly hopeless because of what is going on in my life does that. Does that make sense? Ooh Boy, we’re getting DEEP to begin with!
4.│The Way I Used to Be│Amber Smith│
│ I added this because…I chose to read books about rape because they’re important when done correctly, and help destigmatize survivors. Stay or Go? Go! I’ve heard that it might sway into torture porn area and I’m not sure I want to read that.
5.│Heartless│Marissa Meyer│ I added this because…The hype, man. Stay or Go? Stay! I am intrigued enough to stay on the hype train…Even if I’m I might be the very last one aboard!
6.│Violent Ends│Shaun David Hutchinson│ I added this because…With America’s track record I feel like this is an important book to read and I am still yet to read a book about a school shooting??? I mean how is that possible? Stay or Go? Stay!
Past Down The TBR Hole
Down the TBR Hole 1.12 // Unreleased – Part 3/4 2019 Month Release Unknown
Down the TBR Hole 1.11 // Unreleased – Part 2/4 2019 Month Release Known
Added August 2016
7.│Talking As Fast As I Can│Lauren Graham│ I added this because…Gilmore Girls was my favourite TV show for years and I need the inside goss. Also, I am currently the closest I have ever been to living the Gilmore Girls life with just me and my mum living together! I’d watch it with my mum but she can’t fucking stand Emily. Stay or Go? Moved to my new Memoir Shelf.
8.│The Help│Kathryn Stockett│
│ I added this because…I watched the film and was interested in what the book was like. Stay or Go? Go! Plays a bit into the white saviour trope.
9.│The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas│John Boyne│
│ I added this because…I remember watching the film for this in school…Anyway, I was interested in reading the book. Stay or Go? Go! I think I’m good with having just watched the film. Don’t come after me with pitchforks thanks.
10.│Code Name Verity│Code Name Verity #1│ I added this because…Is it spies?? Is it spies?? I’m going with spies. Is it spies?? Imagine if it’s spies! (If you’re wondering what the hell I am badly referencing its this video) Stay or Go? Stay!
11.│Chains│Seeds of America #1│
│ I added this because…I am interested in reading a book about slavery. Stay or Go? Go! I feel like starting with one written by a white woman probably isn’t the wisest choice I could make.
12.│The Butterfly Garden│The Collector #1│
│ I added this because…“I was good at escaping people, not manipulating them.” Stay or Go? Stay!
13.│Smoke Gets in Your Eyes│Caitlin Doughty│ I added this because…I added this while I was reading a lot of memoirs and this looked really interesting. I love a dark sense of humour. Stay or Go? Moved to my new Memoir Shelf.
14.│Stalking Jack the Ripper│Kerri Maniscalo│ I added this because…Murder. History. Dead bodies. Forensic Medicine. This is everything 14-year-old Grey would have loved and 25-year-old Grey still loves. Stay or Go? Stay!
15.│It Ends with Us│Colleen Hoover│
│ I added this because…I am yet to read a Colleen Hoover book and this seemed like a good a start as any? Stay or Go? Stay! This still seems like the best place to start.
16.│Girl in Pieces│Kathleen Glasgow│
│ I added this because…I saw that is was for fans of Girl, Interrupted and I loved that movie (No, I haven’t read the book leave me alone). Stay or Go? Go! I don’t think I’ll like the writing style.
17.│Forbidden│Tabitha Suzuma│
│ I added this because…Here’s the thing: I don’t like incest narratives. They make me feel sick. The only reason I got through TMI was that I already knew
spoiler.
they weren’t brother and sister.
(Don’t fight me. I marked the spoiler, and if you didn’t already know there was an incest narrative in that series then how?????) But so many people have given this 4-5 stars on Goodreads so I thought maybe I should give it a go. Stay or Go? Go! Yeah, the incest thing is just never gonna be something I wanna read.
Added September 2016
18.│The Queen of Blood│The Queens of Renthia #1│Sarah Beth Durst│ I added this because…This sounds like a better version of Red Queen that also has strong female friendships. Stay or Go? Stay!
19.│This is Not a Test│This is Not a Test #1│Courtney Summers│
│ I added this because…This sounds creepy and interesting and I’ve liked Summers’ work so far. Stay or Go? Stay!
20.│The Casquette Girls│The Casquette Girls #1│Alys Arden│ I added this because…I’m always drawn to stories set in New Orleans for some reason. Stay or Go? Go! The setting is not enough to keep me interested.
21.│Wrecked│Maria Padian│
│ I added this because…As you’ve probably noticed, I’m drawn to books about rape and sexual assault for many reasons, mostly so that I can understand what it’s like to go through something so traumatic, as best as possible, without going through it myself. Which is usually the case for most books representing experiences I’ve never had. With rape and sexual assault books, it’s different though, because as a woman in today’s society I always live with the threat that one day it could be me. Stay or Go? Stay! I’m yet to read one set on a college campus.
22.│Want│Want #1│Cindy Pon│
│ I added this because…Most people seem to really enjoy it! Stay or Go? Go! I need to learn to accept that sci-fi isn’t really for me and your stereotypical dystopian is probably not really something I’m going to enjoy.
23.│Saint Death│Marcus Sedgwick│
│ I added this because…It’s a book about immigration rights. Stay or Go? Stay! Hello? Can you say fucking RELEVANT?
Past Grey Reads
Book Review // Girl Made of Stars – I Am Broken
Book Review // Everything Leads To You – A Quite Love Story
Added October 2016
24.│A Mortal Song│Megan Crewe│
│ I added this because…This sounded interesting enough. Stay or Go? Go! This one hasn’t held my interest and is hard for me to get a hold of.
25.│The Nightingale│Kristin Hannah│ I added this because…People seem to really love this one and also: “If I have learned anything in this long life of mine, it is this: in love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are.” Stay or Go? Stay!
26.│The Blade Itself│The First Law #1│Joe Abercrombie│ I added this because…Listen, sometimes I add things because I see one good review and all of a sudden I’m interested in a book I’d never actually pick up. It’s a problem I’m trying to get under control for my own sake. Stay or Go? Go! Though I am almost tempted to keep because one reviewer likens a character to Deadpool…
27.│Highly Illogical Behavior│John Corey Whaley│
│ I added this because…This sounds so bloody interesting! I don’t think I’ve read about a character with agoraphobia, and what I’ve seen of them in film, tend to be made fun of. Stay or Go? Stay!
28.│Wolf by Wolf│Wolf by Wolf #1│Ryan Graudin│ I added this because…This sounds so weird and so good! Stay or Go? Go! And, I don’t feel any drive to pick this one up.
29.│In the Woods│Dublin Murder Squad #1│ I added this because...Every now and then I’ll add a mystery thriller that I never seem to pick up because I’m always worried they’re gonna be stereotypical trash filled with old and played cliches and offensive tropes. Stay or Go? Stay! Right now I am all about the mystery thrillers and I seem to be getting better at finding the good shit.
30.│The V Girl│Mya Robarts│
│ I added this because…Everyone I’ve seen read it has loved it and I’ve been recommended it more than once. Stay or Go? Go! Me and sex slavery don’t really get along. I guess it affects me more than contemporary rape narratives.
31.│Daughter of Smoke & Bone│Daughter of Smoke & Bone #1│Laini Taylor│ I added this because…Two words: Demon’s assistant. Stay or Go? Stay!
32.│The Nix│Nathan Hill│ I added this because…I. Don’t. Know???? Like honestly have no idea?? None of this screams a Greyson read??? Stay or Go? Go!
33.│My Favourite Manson Girl│Alison Umminger│ I added this because…Umm??? Hello??? It’s about the Manson girls! Stay or Go? Stay!
34.│The Truth Commission│Susan Juby│ I added this because…I read Emily May’s review and she seemed to really enjoy it. Stay or Go? Go! I gotta start getting tougher with this purge!
35.│Railhead│Philip Reeve│ I added this because…This sounded interesting enough and Emily May’s review called it a book for the curious and I am definitely that. Stay or Go? Go! Curiosity isn’t enough to get me to pick this one up.
36.│Homegoing│Yaa Gyasi│
│ I added this because…“What I know now, my son: Evil begets evil. It grows. It transmutes, so that sometimes you cannot see that the evil in the world began as the evil in your own home.” This is a family saga and after the mess my family has been for at least the last year, I feel like this could be very cathartic for me. Stay or Go? Stay!
37.│Behold the Dreamers│Imbolo Mbue│
│ I added this because…This sounded interesting enough, covering many topics that are quite relevant at the moment. Stay or Go? Go! It’s not holding my attention.
38.│The Fifth Season│The Broken Earth #1│N.K. Jemisin│
│ I added this because…“—for all those who have to fight for the respect others are given without question.” When a book starts with that kind of dedication then I know it’s a book for me. Stay or Go? Stay!
39.│The Bird and the Sword│The Bird and the Sword Chronicles #1│Amy Harmon│ I added this because…Basically, everyone that reads this falls a bit in love with it. Stay or Go? Stay!
40.│Bad Romance│Heather Demetrios│
│★★★★★│ I have read this book since writing this post and it was so good, I totally made the right call. I added this because…“Something in me is dimming, something that I already know I can’t get back. But you’re worth it. You are. I will tell myself this for several more months. And when I realize you aren’t worth it, it’ll be too late.” I am always looking for good representations of abusive relationships of all kinds and this seems to be one of them. Stay or Go? Stay! In fact, I just requested it at my library.
October 2016 was a crazy busy adding month!
So how did I do?
Well, I got rid of a whopping 17 books! Kept 21 and moved 2! If I can keep this up then I might be able to cut my TBR by half!
What books are you reading right now? Have you got any books on your TBR that match mine? Are there any books you’ve read that I’m keeping or getting rid of? What did you think of them?
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