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usaigi · 2 years

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Marc & Dad

Lunar sys au character cards | Read all chapters on ao3

CW: internalized ableism (oh hi marc)

They waited a couple of days before doing anything. Marc even texted his therapist for this time, outside of session, asking to talk about this at their next session. By the end of the session, Steven, Jake, and himself agreed that Jake would (slowly) explain their past to Birdy, starting with the truth about their mom, work up to the truth about their dad.

Marc thinks back to Steven, how his heart shattered like glass when he found out the truth about their mother. Maybe it’d be easier with Birdy–she has a support system after all. A system, a therapist, and Layla.

Or maybe not–it isn’t as easy to hate their dad like it was their mom. His dad never raised his hand, never raised his voice. That was the problem, wasn’t it? How he prayed day and night that his dad would, just once, raise his voice for his sake.

Ugh, maybe it would have been easier if everyone had been in the asylum afterlife with them, speed run right through the trauma to catch everyone up. Marc keeps that thought to himself, he can just imagine Steven scolding him with, ‘no Marc, that experience was very traumatic and we should be glad the younger parts did not have to experience it.’

His therapist's words echo in his head as he stares at the number, each digit flashing over and over in his mind. “Communication with alters has to come from a place of compassion and gratitude, it cannot be from a place of resentment. Birdy’s actions did hurt you and you’re allowed to be frustrated but it’s very likely that her motives were to alleviate the pain. There is a part of you that cannot move on from the trauma you experienced in your adolescence. Maybe you can, maybe your pathway to healing requires cutting all contact with your father. But maybe that’s not what Birdy needs, so you’ll have to negotiate that with her.”

Marc sat with that for a bit. Negotiate with Birdy… He dials the number.

Ring-ring-click.

“Hey Birdy, how are–”

“It’s Marc,” he says right away.

“Marc…?” his dad croaks.

“I found the messages.”

“Oh.”

“So. What do you think about this?”

“Do you mean what I think about your disorder? I feel terrible, all the pain and suffering I let happen, and like I owe you a million ap–”

“Cut the bullshit. You think I’m crazy, right? I’m still a pathological liar an–”

“Of course not, Marc. I’ve never thought that. I know I’m responsible, I know that I hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I am really sorry for going behind your back, I knew it was wrong to get between you and Birdy but I couldn’t just ignore her. I’m still processing everything but… she’s my kid too.”

“So open minded…” Marc scoffs, listening to all the bullshit spilling out of his mouth.

“I won’t lie, it was quite a shock. When she told me that she wasn’t the real ‘Marc’ I didn’t know what to make of it. And then slowly it all clicked. Even just speaking with you over the phone, I see how different you two are.

“When she first started calling, before she told me, I thought it was a bit odd that you acted so…young. You acted exactly how I remember you, as if no time had passed.”

“Yeah well, a lot of time has passed. And I’m certainly not the same.”

“I know. And the fact that so much time has passed has been my greatest regret. But I know you had to keep your distance to be safe. I’m glad that you escaped.”

“So what, you have Birdy and you get to pick up right where I left off? She’s around the same age as I was when I left home so it works out great, right?” Deep breaths, Spector. Don’t let your anger show.

“Of course not. I can’t change the past, no matter how much I wish I could. When… she … died, I realized how much of my life I’ve lived in fear. Really says something when the first emotion I felt when she passed was relief instead of sadness. I was a coward and no matter how many times you tried to tell me it fell on deaf ears. There is nothing I wish more than for us to reconnect, all of you, but I will respect your boundaries. I just ask… if you wish to cut contact again, can you let me say goodbye?” His dad has always been a doormat; a bleeding heart fool.

Marc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “What exactly did Birdy tell you?”

“Shouldn’t… you ask her?”

“I don’t want to fight. Can you please just tell me?” She was bound to tell Jake eventually, who would tell Steven who would tell Marc would then tell Layla, and somewhere along the way everyone else would find out. The classic lunar system gossip train.

“She calls me sporadically a couple of times, just asking about how I’ve been and how I’m doing. Then, she asked me if I’d heard of dissociative identity disorder or multiple personalities. Send me some books to read. Thought it was an odd request but I humored it.

"On the fifth call or so she broke down crying, she’s saying she wasn’t ‘Marc’ and her name is ‘Birdy’ and she’s fake and not my real son but she remembers me sitting by her side at the hospital. How the ‘real Marc’ refuses to talk to her about it and she feels so isolated because even her best friend won’t explain.”

“I’m not the real Marc either…” The real Marc died in that cave years ago, holding his brother’s hand.

“I um… starting seeing a proper therapist. I was seeing a grief counselor but it seemed like the right call. We talk about you. And…taking accountability for what happened. Coming to terms with the fact that in trying to be a pacifist I was actually an enabler. To abstain from violence is a form of violence. I share the blame with her; I hurt you too, I tra-” his voice breaks. Marc hears from crackling in the background before his dad composes himself. “ I traumatized you too. I know my actions aren’t forgivable but… I can’t move on if I’m living in shame. Been processing all of that in therapy.”

“Why now? I don’t need you now, I’ve built my own life without you just fine. I need you back then, why couldn’t you have come to that realization then? When it did matter. You had so many opportunities to change and help us and you didn’t.” Marc doesn’t even feel the tears until they fall down his cheek.

“I know… And I’m sorry. I don’t have any excuse that will excuse the pain I caused you. I was scared and in denial and– I’m sorry. No words will ever express how heavy my shame is. But that’s not important, you were a child and I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

‘You didn’t,’ he wants to say. But he closes his eyes, thinking back to when he was younger, and how badly he wanted to hear those words come out of his dad's mouth.

“Birdy told you about herself and the DID, what else did she say?” Marc asks, calmer than before.

“Not much. She says that Jake shelters her a lot. Mostly just about herself and how she’s doing. She did tell me about all the different alters. Aside from the new one, the business one? She can’t say his name. She said I've probably already met you all already.”

“Aren’t you… scared of us? You’ve seen the movies, aren’t you worried that we have some kind of evil alt–”

“You are my son, you don’t scare me.” That phrase sounds so familiar, sending him back to a darker time. But the tone, the delivery of his father’s voice is completely different; sounding self-assured, confident.

“So… what now?” Marc asks, after a moment of silence.

“It’s up to you and your system.” Negotiate with your alters.

“You’ve been reading, huh? Using all the correct terminology and all that crap.”

“Birdy says you haven’t. It’s mostly just her and Steven…”

“We have different hobbies.” From reading French poetry to Animal Crossing to protecting the world, different hobbies may be a bit an understatement. “I’ll talk to them. That doesn’t mean you are forgiven but if Birdy was so adamant to talk to you I guess that means some part of me wants it. Steven has been wanting to meet you too… and I’m sure Kid too. If I can convince Jake and Daniela then I’ll let you know. And Layla too.”

“Thank you.” Stopping for a bit before asking, “Layla…is another part?”

“No, no, she’s my wife. She won’t be happy with me if I take another spontaneous trip to Chicago without talking to her first,” Marc explains, although he doubts his dad will even understand the reference. “And I haven’t agreed to anything yet. We can always say no, you understand that?”

“Yes, of course. I will accept any conditions you and your system set.”

“You… won’t think it’s…weird? If you meet the others in person… It's a lot easier to pretend Birdy is Birdy over chat or even over the phone but we still… share a body. It’s… embarrassing.”

“Accepting who you are is my own responsibility not your burden. You shouldn’t feel like you have to hide who you are from me anymore. I’m really sorry I ever made you feel unsafe to be yourself.”

“I’ll…let you know,” Marc finally says, voice trailing off.

“I love you Marc. I didn’t say that enough to you growing up but I do.” His dad states, the voices endless bouncing around his head. “You don’t need to say it back”

“Bye dad.”

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marvel #usaigi speaks #layla el faouly #mk lunar sys #lunar sys & dad arc

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dankusner · 19 days

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Patric Gagne is a writer, former therapist, and advocate for people suffering from sociopathic, psychopathic, and anti-social personality disorders.

She earned a PhD in clinical psychology with a dissertation that examined the relationship between sociopathy and anxiety.

This research became the groundwork for her continued studies on sociopathic disorder, as well as the foundation for her memoir.

She did her undergraduate work at UCLA and earned her masters and doctorate at the California Graduate Institute of The Chicago School.

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MODERN LOVE

He Married a Sociopath: Me

As a wife and a mother, I have learned how to tell the truth. Which is why I always know when my husband is lying.

By Patric Gagne Oct. 16, 2020

My husband was trying to tell me I was “the only one” for him.

“Don’t lie to a liar,” I said.

It wasn’t a very romantic reply, I’ll admit. But I’m not a romantic. I’m a sociopath.

My husband knows this, of course.

As for me, I knew as early as age 7 that I wasn’t like other children.

I didn’t care about things the way they did.

I was a girl (my male-sounding name, Patric, is short for Patricia) who mostly felt nothing.

It wasn’t until college that a therapist told me what I had long suspected: My lack of emotion and empathy are hallmarks of sociopathy.

A few years later, doctors would confirm my diagnosis.

Human beings aren’t designed to function without access to emotion, so we sociopaths often become destructive in order to feel things.

I used to break into houses or steal cars for the adrenaline rush of knowing I was somewhere I wasn’t allowed to be — just to feel, period.

It didn’t take long for me to realize this was not an effective life strategy.

Rather than risk incarceration (or worse), I used my diagnosis to fuel my pursuit of a Ph.D. in psychology.

Like many, I gained my first understanding of sociopaths from pop culture, which portrays us as singularly dangerous and threatening, our flat emotional state and lack of remorse making us unfit for normal life.

It wasn’t until I began my research in graduate school that I learned sociopaths exist along a wide spectrum, like many people with psychiatric disorders.

You’ll find us everywhere in daily life, as your colleagues, neighbors, friends and, sometimes, members of your own family.

My husband and I dated in high school and found each other again after college.

You would think my insincerity, emotional poverty, absence of shame and guilt, and reduced empathic response wouldn’t exactly land me in the “dream girl” category.

Perhaps because he and I had grown up together and he was already familiar with my “bad” side, he remained in denial for years about my having any sort of real psychological problem.

Nevertheless, 13 years later, we’re still in love and happily married.

But am I “the only one” for him? Definitely not.

My husband had developed a crush on a female colleague at work.

It was obvious, and I understood why.

She was everything I’m not: thoughtful, kind, compassionate.

I doubt she ever attempted to choke anyone.

Unlike me.

She was socially appropriate at parties, appreciated compliments and affection.

Her charm was authentic and her darkness, if she had any, relatable.

Unlike mine.

It made sense he would like her.

They would make a great pair.

So why wouldn’t he just admit it?

He knew I didn’t take things like this personally.

That’s one of the perks of being married to a sociopath: I don’t get jealous.

He knew that if he were to tell me he liked her, I would listen and relate without reaction.

I might even end up helping him shed some of his Catholic-school guilt.

All he had to do was be honest.

When you’re a sociopath in a marriage, especially one with children, honesty is critical — even more, I would argue, than for people in “normal” relationships.

As a sociopath, I had difficulty prioritizing telling the truth, but as a wife and a mother, I forced myself to learn.

Outside of my family, my loyalty to the truth is what has enabled me to connect with other people.

As a doctor who specializes in the research of sociopathy, I prize credibility and integrity as my greatest asset.

Granted, it hasn’t been easy.

People claim to want complete honesty from their partner or spouse, but I have found they aren’t always happy when they get it, especially when that honesty is coming from a sociopath.

My husband was never thrilled to hear that I had spent the day in a stranger’s house without that person’s knowledge or committed other misdeeds.

But his real anger was reserved for the fact that I never felt guilty about these things.

For my husband, guilt is a driving force.

His formative years were shaped by his overbearing and infirm mother.

And then he married someone who seemed immune to it.

He wanted to know: Why did I never care what anyone thought? Why was my behavior never limited by guilt?

For a long time, he was angry.

But eventually he began to understand it wasn’t my fault that I was born with a reduced capacity for remorse.

And it wasn’t his fault his mother was so negatively attached.

A few years after we married, with his encouragement, my behavior started to shift.

I would never experience shame the way other people do, but I would learn to understand it.

Thanks to him, I started to behave.

I stopped acting like a sociopath.

And thanks to me, he started to see the value in not caring as much about what others thought.

He noticed how often guilt was forcing his hand, frequently in unhealthy directions.

He would never be a sociopath, but he saw value in a few of my personality traits.

He learned to say “no” and mean it, especially when it came to activities he was doing purely out of obligation — family visits or holiday gatherings he didn’t enjoy but couldn’t decline.

He started to recognize when he was being manipulated.

He noticed when emotion was clouding his judgment.

What a pair we are.

Certainly, there have been setbacks.

He isn’t always patient.

I’m not always on my best behavior.

And on those occasions, I leave a token on his desk to let him know when I have been up to no good (minor mischief like sneaking embarrassing items into a line-cutter’s grocery cart).

The token I leave is an innocuous trinket, a Statue of Liberty figurine from a key chain.

Anyone else who saw it wouldn’t think twice. But he knows what it means.

Whenever I leave the figurine on his desk, it means I’ve done something wrong.

The second he sees it, he comes to find me, gives me a kiss and slips it back into my purse.

Often, he doesn’t ask what I’ve done, but if he does, he knows he can trust me to be honest.

And I know the same, so I never stray too far outside the lines.

Which is why his denial of his office crush was so confusing.

For the first time in our relationship, it wasn’t my interpretation of the truth that was causing a shift in our marriage; it was his.

Believe it or not, I could appreciate the cause of his dishonesty.

On good days, I was almost entertained by it.

His clumsy white lies were like a toddler’s, and nearly as endearing.

On those days I wanted to hug him for being so cute.

“You see what you’re doing?” I wanted to say. “You’re not being honest about your feelings for her. You’re lying. Now, how is this any different from what I used to do?”

And just like that, he would have gotten a lesson in empathy — from a sociopath, no less!

And we would have laughed and understood each other better and gone back to sharing everything.

At least I’d like to think so.

My husband, after all, was the one who said we must be honest without exception.

And he was the one who insisted I confess to every single thing every single time.

So why wasn’t he playing by the same rules?

I have been forced to come clean about everything, even when — especially when — I don’t want to.

It’s hard, frustrating, confusing and annoying, but I have done it for him, for us!

If he wasn’t willing to do the same, then what?

Should I leave him?

Go back to being dishonest?

Wait for him to leave me?

On bad days, these were the thoughts that dominated.

When I couldn’t help but wonder: Is this what fear feels like?

I think it was.

My husband was lying to me.

Gaslighting me.

Sneaking.

Acting like a sociopath.

And isn’t that how we sociopaths are defined — as liars without the ability to empathize?

On such days, I saw what it must be like to be married to someone like me.

And the irony is almost shimmering.

Still, I couldn’t help but smile thinking of the future, of the days when we would be able to joke about the time we almost split up because he started acting like a sociopath.

And that in doing so, my husband was finally able to teach me the one thing I have been trying to learn all of my life: empathy.

Patric Gagne is a writer and doctor of psychology from Los Angeles.

What It Feels Like to Be a Sociopath

In movies, sociopaths are often depicted as cold-blooded killers, but the disorder is actually widely misunderstood.

Patric Gagne is a therapist, wife and mother of two living in the Los Angeles area, and she just wrote a gripping memoir about how it actually feels to be a sociopath.

I interviewed Patric on the phone about misconceptions, her childhood, and her urge to break rules…

First off, what do you wish society knew about sociopathy?

Sociopathy doesn’t mean what a lot of people think it means.

Sociopaths can feel the primary emotions, like happiness, sadness and anger.

But sociopaths have a harder time feeling the social emotions [emotions that depend upon the feelings or actions of other people, such as embarrassment, guilt, shame and empathy].

Sociopaths can learn social emotions, they just learn them differently.

I call sociopathy an ‘emotional learning disability,’ since that’s what it feels like.

People often picture sociopaths as Ted Bundy or Jeffrey Dahmer, not average people.

Not every sociopath is a serial killer who’s out to get you.

These extreme examples comprise only a small fraction.

But they’ve been misappropriated to define everyone with the disorder.

It’s wild to me that this perception has been allowed.

It’s the only personality disorder where we are villainized full stop, even though that’s not what the research says.

There’s so much mental health awareness these days around autism, depression, anxiety, the list goes on.

So, I was shocked by the negative comments on your New York Times piece.

People were really upset that they featured an interview with a sociopath.

I represent a very inconvenient truth because many people want to think all sociopaths look like monsters, since monsters are easy to spot.

It’s unsettling that you could be living next door to a sociopath and have no idea, or with one and have no idea.

People don’t like that.

Statistics say that the prevalence is just under 5% of the population.

Little kids can seem like sociopaths.

Toby once bit a kid at the playground, and Anton would push over his friend’s block towers.

What’s the difference between typical kid behavior and sociopathic behavior?

Socio-emotions are learned emotions.

Babies don’t automatically feel remorse from the womb.

When a kid knocks down block towers, you say, ‘Hey, that might make someone sad.’

A neurotypical child will get that and start feeling shame or guilt.

A neurodivergent kid may still feel ambivalent.

My mom would say, ‘Well, you don’t want people to feel sad, do you?’ And I was like, well, what does it matter? I couldn’t conceptualize those traditional socialization lessons until I was much older.

As a kid, did you know you were different?

Yes. I learned very quickly that it wasn’t okay to say, I don’t feel bad about that.

And I learned that it wasn’t okay to say, I’m not excited that so-and-so is coming to visit. If someone asks if you’re excited, you nod and say yes. I realized that in kindergarten.

If you suspect your child might have an ‘emotional learning disability,’ how would you approach that?

Preemptively sit a child down and say, ‘Personally, I feel excitement or shame in this or that situation, but there are a lot of people who don’t feel anything when X, Y and Z. And it’s okay that you don’t have those feelings.’

When you’re socializing kids, talk about behaviors, all day long, but not emotions.

There is nothing inherently immoral about having limited access to emotion.

There was a scene in the book where your mom was crying to your dad, saying, what can we do with her?

What has your mom said about raising you, looking back?

When I was growing up, psychology wasn’t as much of a thing, and my mom did the best she could.

Her reaction to the book is what I’d hoped for: understanding that there was a reason that I behaved the way I did that had nothing to do with her.

This is a personality disorder, not anything a parent did right or wrong – the lack of a traditional emotional response is not personal.

You talk in the book about how, since you didn’t feel strong emotions, you would instead feel apathy.

Then stress would build up, and you’d do risky behavior just to feel something, anything.

Can you tell us about that?

Yes, as a kid, I would sneak into our neighbors’ house when they weren’t home and just hang out, or sneak out of my house at night and follow people around the neighborhood.

In college, I stole cars at night, drove them for hours, and then returned them without people ever knowing.

What about hurting people?

I wrote down the rule that I couldn’t hurt anyone.

Then I thought, so, what can I do?

Sneaking into a neighbor’s house, it’s like, look, there’s no one in this house, who cares if I’m here?

But because I knew I wasn’t ‘supposed’ to do it, it felt good.

It gave me a release.

It can’t explain it more than that.

If you’re a kid, and you throw a bottle, it feels good – this is similar.

I didn’t really want to be doing that stuff, but I felt a compulsion.

A compulsion? That sounds similar to OCD or addiction.

I read a magazine article about OCD, and it felt similar — that compulsion to do things that you don’t want to do but that you know will make you feel less stressed.

I remember thinking, oh, so instead of repetitive behaviors or counting or washing hands, I feel compelled to do destructive things.

That understanding helped me recognize that maybe if I follow the tips that they give for OCD, maybe my stuck stress will go away, too.

What were the OCD tips?

They recommended writing down your behaviors and teasing out why they made you feel better.

It’s all about redirecting it so it doesn’t control your life.

I remember, as a child, picturing people in prison and thinking, wouldn’t that be nice?

I’d think about being in lockdown with the lights off and how even if they wanted to do something, even if their compulsive drive was at the absolute highest, they couldn’t do something destructive because they were inside the walls. Wouldn’t that be nice not to be lying in my own bed feeling powerless against that urge?

What are your urges like as an adult?

My traditional lifestyle has been such a service to me because I respond to the structure and the idea that I have a family.

I could go out and steal a car tomorrow and I might get arrested, or I could choose to do some cognitive journaling.

So many people on the sociopathic spectrum have the ability to lead high-functioning, beautiful lives.

What are your guidelines for living a moral life, since you can’t really trust your gut? Do you lean on social norms and laws?

As a sociopath, you can still have a moral compass.

I don’t feel shame and guilt, but my working brain can still tell me what is right and wrong.

A sociopath makes decisions based on logic.

I appreciate the benefits that come with living within a harmonious community.

I don’t have to CARE in order to make the right choice.

That’s something people get wrong about sociopathy – ‘I have to care about you to do the right thing by you’ is just as inaccurate as ‘you have to believe in God in order to make the right choices in life.’

You make the right choices in life because they benefit you and the people you love.

You wrote that your husband sometimes gets upset that you can’t love him in this all-encompassing way.

You love him, of course, but you feel emotions differently.

My husband is Italian, he’s as hot-blooded and passionate as it gets.

You don’t have to be a sociopath to not meet those qualifications!

That said, love is a learned emotion.

Just because feelings like love and remorse don’t come naturally to sociopaths doesn’t mean they don’t come, period.

What does he think of your memoir?

I would write chapters and my husband would read them first, and there were more than a dozen times where he came in and said, you can’t write this, you have to burn this.

He was aghast that I would even consider telling these stories, but playing such an intricate part in the writing process also allowed him to understand what I was saying.

I’ve been with him since I was a kid, and when he read it in black and white, he finally understood me.

What do you hope people take away from the book?

Most of all, I wrote it in the hopes of reaching sociopathic people to feel less alone.

But also I wrote it so neurotypical people could read it and go, ahhh!

sociopath memoir Patric Gagne child

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 3 years

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fic title: the girl with flowers in her bones

Izumi learns she has a Quirk age six when the weird bump on her shoulder is inspected by a doctor who cuts it open to reveal a pretty flower.

Said flower quickly changed and becomes deadly, nearly killing a nurse before it’s destroyed.

No one knows how it got there but now people know about it. At first Izumi is happy. She has a Quirk.

Then she isn’t.

“It’s a useless Quirk!” Kacchan taunts her. “Perfect for a useless girl like you! Flowers under the skin! Pathetic!”

Kacchan burns her shoulder and she goes home crying.

Later a flower develops where she’s been burned and after some quiet conversation with Inko about how her husband had left because of Izumi’s Quirkless status and Izumi had heard it, they figured it out.

The flowers bloom when someone hurts her. They bloom and the doctors do a scan revealing many more flowers all over her- some were small and no one could see them. Little hurts the doctors theorized.

They still had to be removed. Izumi has been getting slower, becoming more exhausted each day. It’s the flowers.

Izumi numbly lets it happen.

But it happens again. And again.

Flowers bloom because people keep hurting her. They turn deadly when exposed to the air.

“Freak, monster, liar-“ it’s all shouted at her by her class. Kacchan leads the charge.

His flowers are always an orange lily. Hatred.

Izumi wonders if it means him or her who hates the other. When it becomes a sweet pea, she has a feeling she knows why she is receiving a goodbye.

She stops growing flowers for him. Because she knows she will only get pain from him, because he is no longer one she believes to be a friend.

“The flowers are signs of betrayal,” she changes the classification. “I can only be hurt by those I do not think would hurt me, those I trust. Once I stop trusting or believing they will not hurt me the flowers stop.”

Her mother sobs upon hearing it. Inko then goes and terrifies the Bakugou family, promising that unless Kacchan leaves her alone Inko would go after them.

Kacchan doesn’t listen.

So Inko slaps them with a lawsuit she wins. It’s enough for Izumi to go to a new school where she sits quietly and doesn’t talk.

There people whisper still but it’s sad whispers.

“Her Quirk hurts her.”

“No, it’s people hurting her which sets off her Quirk.”

“She’s so quiet.”

Izumi just works. The only one she trusts is her mother. Inko who tries so hard not to hurt her, who is honest and open. Who gives her books on flowers and smiles.

When Inko hurts Izumi she leaves violets and lavender. And they’re always small, so small. Small hurts, being too honest with her daughter.

Izumi loves her mother for it.

Izumi grows and soon she finds herself applying for UA. She wants to be a hero and her mother frets and admits she isn’t sure if Izumi can do but the two have researched and researched and well, they think they can figure a way out. Sports festival- she just needs to beat all the other students.

She thinks she can. The money they won from the lawsuit had helped Izumi not only get into a new school but also got her into a martial arts studio. Her mother insisted.

Probably was upset with how many flowers Izumi grew from cuts and burns and bruises. Those were the bigger ones, when they were left on purpose. They pushed against the skin, looked strange.

Funny, Izumi noticed that she didn’t gain flowers sparring.

“It’s probably based on intention. When you gain flowers from bruises or cuts and they’re from people doing it to hurt you and betray you, they come as flowers. But when it’s done as a fight or a spar it’s on purpose still but it’s not a betrayal of yourself.” Her Quirk therapist theorizes.

It makes sense.

Izumi goes to UA after failing the entrance exam and ends up in 1C where she finds herself meeting a boy who is like her. Sharp and broken and hurt.

Shinsou is a friend and she finds herself chuckling at his comments.

Their friendship only blooms truly though when she meets Kacchan again. He sees her and attacks, screaming. She fights back. Shinsou speaks and stops Kacchan and Izumi looks at him, seeing something similar back.

The situation ends with Izumi in the principal’s office telling her story. She looks him in the eyes tiredly.

Kacchan is removed from UA- apparently, the lawsuit hadn’t been included in his application.

“It was when he was ten!” His mother tries.

“It still happened and you lied,” Nezu tells her. Izumi isn’t supposed to be there but she went to the office to pick up some papers.

She thinks her homeroom teacher arranged it.

“The papers are supposed to show us if we need to watch out students for anything. You lied on the application.”

Izumi doesn’t know what to think as she slides away. She hasn’t seen Kacchan in years. Hasn’t spoken to him.

Yet he still tried to attack her. He hasn’t learned anything.

Izumi has left him behind. The pain he caused ended any relationship between them.

He is a child. He can learn, if he wishes.

She feels as if she is choking when she runs into someone.

“Ah,” the person says and she blinks at a girl with red and white hair. It’s long and in a braid as she stares at Izumi. There’s a burn scar on her face and as Izumi looks into her eyes she sees the same sort of pain Izumi has.

The girl nods and leaves and Izumi stares after her in confusion.

Then she has to head to class and Shinsou and it’s a mess.

A flower blooms under her cheek as she speaks and she wonders if it’s from the shock someone attacked her at UA or it’s because she always hoped Kacchan would change the longer she left him.

“It’s not the same.” She tells Shinsou. “I was in hell until I was ten and then just isolated after.”

“It’s close,” Shinsou tells her. He touches her cheek and she closes her eyes. “It’s growing?”

“Yeah. It used to be orange lilies. It might be the same now.”

It is. It’s removed by Recovery Girl and Izumi breathes and doesn’t try to think.

She doesn’t know what to think about anything.

She thinks in a way that expelling him was to much. She understands that they lied, that they removed the evidence of the trial. But did they truly know that it counted?

Kacchan is a child and needs to learn things.

At the same time, he tried to attack her.

Her mind feels muddled and confused and Shinsou tries to help but it’s different for him. His bullies were cruel and never stopped and yet he never expected it either to stop.

You can only be betrayed by a friend.

He tries but they fight and eventually he yells that she’s worthless if she wishes to let a boy who hurts her back into UA.

She flinches and he does too.

Shinsou reaches for her but she leaves, feeling sick.

Izumi wanders UA campus after that- a week after the Kacchan incident- a week after the USJ got invaded. With Kacchan in the office the class hadn’t gone to USJ, something all of them expresses relief about.

Izumi wanders and then runs into the red and white girl again. She’s training in the gym that all students are allowed to Izumi wandered to it out of habit. Usually she and Shinsou train- Shinsou finally accepting that he needs to train his body.

He’s not with her though, and she feels her shoulder ache.

Shinsou didn’t mean it, he was angry and didn’t understand. Izumi gets it.

But it still was a hurt.

“... are you okay?” The girl asks and Izumi blinks, realizing she’s been standing in the gym staring off into space.

“I’m fine.” She says. “I got into a fight with my friend.” The girl looks at her and Izumi sighs.

“My Quirk lets me know when I’ve been hurt,” Izumi explains. “The hurts become flowers under my skin. Ever hurt, physical, emotional, mental, minor or major.” Izumi sighs.

“... you were the one Bakugou attacked, the reason we did not go to the USJ.,” The girl says calmly.

“We were friends once. He hurt me badly, and we stopped. He tried again, my mom sued him and his family and they didn’t put the trial in his transcripts. So he’s been expelled and I just… I feel bad for him. He’s hurt me but I cared for him once and is it fair that he was a child when this happened and he’s still himself a child?” Izumi sighs. “Sorry. I-“

“I have similar feelings to my brother and mother.” The girl offers. Her face is slightly blank. She looks at Izumi, cocking her head slightly. “My father is not a nice man and he’s only stopped hurting us due to blackmail my eldest brother has given. I’m under the custody of my second eldest brother. My other siblings were deemed unsuited and my mother is in a mental health institute.”

“Oh!” Izumi blinks. “You didn’t-“

“You told me.” The girl shrugs. “I’m Todoroki Shouto.”

“Midoriya Izumi.”

It’s the start of something.

From the hurt Shinsou dealt jasmine is dug from Izumi’s skin and he apologizes over and over again. She tells him it’s not okay but she understands he didn’t truly mean it.

It makes her sad still.

She and Todoroki meet from time to time in the gym, speaking. Sometimes Shinsou joins them, sometimes not. He wishes to keep his Quirk private, wishing to get into the hero course like Izumi wishes.

Todoroki is kind, Izumi finds. She’s standoffish and blunt but she’s kind.

Her story is a sad one, told over gym meetings. Her father is Endeavour and he wished to overcome All Might. He had children to force it, and the abuse he placed his family through broke her mother.

Todoroki loves her mother. She loves her dearly but cannot face her.

“I used to blame myself, thinking it might be my fault she burned me. Natsuo, my brother, he got me into therapy and I’ve learned it wasn’t. I was a child, it was not on me. And yet my mother is ill.” Todoroki explains. “I care deeply for her but… I can’t face her right now. Because I have learned it is not my fault what she did and I have to adjust.”

Her brother, her eldest brother Touya, is a different story.

“He blamed me for the abuse. Said it was all my fault, hated the fact I was a girl too. Kept going on I was a screw-up, that I was disgusting. He’s in therapy to now but… I don’t talk to him. Ever if I can help it. Natsuo says he’s getting better but he won’t make me do anything. My sister keeps trying to get us to forgive our dad. We don’t want to.” Todoroki tells her. “It’s a mess.”

Todoroki doesn’t know what to do herself. Her brother was young when he became angry, and her mother ill. Neither were fully at fault, and yet she struggles.

It’s nice to talk to someone who understands.

Their friendship grows and Izumi wonders why it feels different then from her and Shinsou.

Yet as she watches Todoroki smile, she thinks she knows.

At the sports festival, Izumi and Shinsou manage to get to the tournament. They manage to claw their way to the semi-finals, determining who will go on to compete for first.

Shinsou insults her, curses her. And then he confesses.

Izumi keeps her mouth shut and shoved him out, even as she feels the flowers begin to bloom.

She does tell him she doesn’t feel the same.

“I know,” Shinsou tells her. “It’s Todoroki. You two smile all the time around each other, you laugh and have fun.” He shrugs sadly. “I just wanted to be honest.

Izumi accepts it, and later she finds the flowers to be yellow tulips.

One-sided love.

Yet first comes the finals, where Izumi screams at Todoroki to use her fire, even as the girl refuses to use it.

“I won’t use his power!” She yells.

“It’s not his! It’s yours!” Izumi cries back.

It’s chaos and destruction and in the end, Izumi has a silver medal.

And she has a smile she treasures.

It’s not love, not yet. But it has a chance to be.

A chance they cultivate, a chance they find becoming stronger and stronger as time goes on. As she and Shinsou enter the hero course, as she fights to protect a boy she barely knows on the streets of Hosu, protecting her hero mentor as well.

It’s a chance she takes, kissing Todoroki after the final exams. Todoroki accidentally burns her in shock and feels horrible.

Izumi treasures the fact a red rose blooms under her skin.

#bnha #bnha au #fic title ask game #lesbian izuku #they're lesbians #tododeku #anti bakugou

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amberwild420 · 3 years

Text

one step back, two steps forward. (pt. 22)

masterlist

the secrets came to light 2

Marinette woke up to her alarm. Her sleep schedule was returning somewhat normal and she wasn’t running on pure caffeine.

Good morning, Marinette!

Another good morning, Tikki.

I’m glad you are getting some rest if not complete.

Marinette chuckled awkwardly remember how not too long ago she had fallen in the horrible schedule and was running on fumes. Just thinking about how her life balanced with the addition of just one person in her life, made her sigh in delight.

Marinette! Kaylan is here!

Coming Maman!

Feeling warm inside, she had a really good feeling about today. Like something good and big was going to happen.

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Do you really think it was a good idea?

…….

Pup we did that without ladybug’s consent. You know that right.

The wolf Kwami was nervous. She and her chosen did something behind ladybug’s back and she wasn’t able to shake the feeling that something might turn out wrong. Her pup was bolder that she thought.

We’ll discuss it today. Don’t worry.

Her answer was short and to the point like always. Nova sighed before nibbling on the jerky while sinking in her pocket. Marinette skipped out and greeted her like always and offered her chocolate chip cookies she loved while giggling her squirrel like stuffed face.

Just as they were near the class, a high pitched scream made them stop. Marinette looked a little scared but Kaylan looked away while hiding a smile with another cookie.

The first thing they noticed was glitter. Lots of glitter. And some of it was still settling down. The second think was glittered covered face and familiar sausage hair. And the third thing was a white box right in front of her.

Both girls couldn’t help but choke before laughing trying to cover it but their trembling shoulders were so obvious. Alya looked at Italian with wide eyes before glaring at the two ostracized girls of the class.

That’s it! You two are going too far! I’ll report it to principle!

Jeez. What else do you know anyway except for complaining?

Kaylan smirked while looking at the Italian liar.

Liking the new looks Lila.

This time there were actual tears in her eyes.

I’ll tell the principle!

On what proof? Have you seen Kaylan putting the box on Lila’s table? It’s not possible that she did it before you all came since she picked me up from bakery before we came here.

Marinette pointed out making Kaylan snicker. She had a slighted doubt over the statement how it was not Kaylan and a strong urge to believe that it was definitely her doing.

Like hell she will say that. Payback’s a bitch.

Now, now, Marinette. Kaylan smoothly interjected. You know how they are, they just simply love to point us out over every problem they face. Like we have the time of life to just create problems in their lives.

Another sinker passed her lips before they made way towards their seats. Marinette watched as Lila ran out of the class, probably to get rid of the glitter.

Told ya! Kaylan whispered so only Marinette heard her. I know how to retaliate. Beside it’s a cheap glitter…………. The one that sticks longer than normal.

Marinette hid her face as she giggled, to see misfortune falling on Lila was simply too good.

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Just as bell rang, signaling the end of the boring lecture, everyone ran out to get lunch. Taking the hand of the designer, Kaylan ran out of the school to get to the bakery, looking more excited than the girl herself.

Slow down, Kaylan!

No way! Luka and Kagami needs to hear this!

A loud laugh slip past her lips. Only she know how much she was holding back in front of the class.

Soon enough they saw their friends in front of the bakery and waved. Just like she thought, Kagami had a big smirk on her face enjoying the story while Luka smiled at their collective happiness.

The lunch ended and they waved at each other promising to get together at patrol. Just as the pair sat in their seats someone stopped in front of them. Kaylan looked at the blonde girl who fidget nervously not seeing how shocked Marinette looked. Giving out a poor excuse, she left them. It was luck that there was no one else in the class yet.

Chloe looked up in determination and put an envelope in front of her. Marinette raised an eyebrow but before she could say anything, Chloe stopped her.

Look, Du- I mean Marinette. I don’t have enough courage to repeat myself but I wanted to say it to you first and foremost. I’m sorry.

Chloe bowed her head a little making Marinette jump.

I was rude to you, I bullied you and I destroyed so many things. I’m sorry. You probably won’t forgive me and you shouldn’t, like ……….. I was so horrible to you. You have always so nice to me…..

A few tears spilled out of her eyes making Marinette stand in shock but Chloe didn’t raised her head.

I kept thinking after miracle queen I started thinking often and when ladybug took my miraculous away I realized how much of a brat I was. Then Lila came and I lost Sabrina. I knew we both had been the friends with benefits but still it hurts when I was all alone.

Wiping her tears she looked up, seeing Marinette in tears, she grits her teeth. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve her tears for her.

When you helped me connect my mother I was so happy. Now that I’m seeing the therapist and they ask me to recount my memories, I just realized you never gave up on me, with all the banter and my tantrum you still didn’t give up on me. So I decided that I would prove to everyone that I will be someone better. So when the future me looks back, I would be proud of me even if I don’t have much to offer.

A loud explosion sounded but before they can move, Kaylan stumbled in the classroom, looking at the crying pair she sighed. She gave a thumbs up with a deadpan.

Please drown in your sorrows, I made sure you had more than enough time.

With that she strutted out closing the door. The pair looked at the door before at each other and a choked giggle left their lips. The tension that was heavy on their shoulder, was gone.

Wiping her tears, Chloe looked at the envelope.

I……. want to pay you for all the things that I had destroyed. Including your time and effort. It won’t be much but still…….

Taking a shaky breath, she looked at Marinette one more time.

I want ladybug to be proud of me. And I want to be proud of myself as well. I was jealous when all you had was your own achievement and all I had was earned by throwing tantrum. So from now on, I will have everything through my efforts.

She looked like she wanted to say anything but all she did was wipe her tears and turn to leave.

You know……… Marinette smiled widely making her turn back. …..I always thought you were a pure softy under all that threatening attitude…….and I know ladybug would be proud of you.

Looking at the designer she felt another wave of tears coming.

And I forgive you Chloe. At the very least you realized your mistake and apologized. Some people didn’t even do that.

You’re ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

Chloe said before hugging the bluenette. She cried soaking her shoulder.

To think her therapist was right about her.

“All you have to do is apologize sincerely. With what you think is right. Considering what you told me about this girl, I say she is very much likely to forgive you. Beside, I’m sure there is no way she didn’t noticed your behaviors. Even if it is unconsciously, she would have noticed how you already changed.”

A familiar figure sat in front of her. A soft smile looked like she descended from heaven. The name board with a bold name, “Dr. Fox”.

Looking at the homely interior of the office, she pondered before sighing.

“I’ll see about that.”

Smiling, the doctor let her think in quite, before her eyes flashed.

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taglist:

@arcticfox847

@angelcake231

@batgirlspain

@irontimetravelflower

@captainmac6

@desygner

#miraculous lb #ml salt #kaylan is sly #Miraculous Team #chloe redemption #redemption arc #kaylan retaliates #marinette is helpless #marinette is an angel #lila deserves it #Someone help me

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buddiebeginz · 3 years

Text

So I finally got to watch 4x08 and I have a lot of thoughts so be prepared for a long rant.

For starters I literally groaned out loud when I saw they brought back Taylor Kelly. I know that some would make the argument well the only reason you don’t like her is because you want Buck with Eddie. If Eddie didn’t even exist I still wouldn’t like her and I definitely wouldn’t want her anywhere near Buck. She’s incredibly self centered doesn’t care who she hurts at times and can be really manipulative too. Like how she went out of her way to hurt Buck in front of Albert and Veronica for no reason. I get it if she didn’t totally understand why Buck asked her there but she could have said that to him privately. She could have left without turning it into a whole big spectacle to make Buck look like a dick.

Then the stuff she said to him in the hallway was just totally messed up. Buck called her because he got roped into the stupid double date thing and didn’t want to look like a loser in front of Albert and Veronica but also it’s clear he’s been feeling lonely for a while and didn’t want to be the third wheel. He should have communicated more to Taylor what was going on with the dinner but nothing about what he was doing was malicious or manipulative to me, Buck can just be kind of clueless at times.

When they were in the hallway Taylor made it seem like Buck used her. That he basically wanted people to see him with “famous” Taylor Kelly the reporter. The thing is when Taylor got to the apartment she thought that her and Buck were going to have dinner and hook up. She was clearly planning on using Buck for sex like she has before, yet she accuses him of using her.

She called him needy and said that he can’t stand the idea of someone not liking him. To which he ends up apologizing. Watching this I’m like WTAF are you apologizing for Buck? This woman is trashing the shit out of you and you’re standing there apologizing?! I mean this is what I’m talking about when I say she’s manipulative. Like I said before Buck should have communicated better what was going on that night but it’s also not his fault that Taylor assumed he was calling her over for a hook up. I also don’t think Buck called her because she’s sort of famous and he wanted to look good or to use her, I think he didn’t want to look like he’s all alone when everyone around him has someone. He had seen her recently and talked to her about things he’d been dealing with so I think she was the first person he could think of to help him and likely the only one really.

Even after Buck tried to explain some of this to her and tried to be vulnerable about how he was feeling what does she do? She laughs at him then basically calls him a liar and tells him that he treats his friends shitty and his issues with Albert are his fault. Never mind the fact that Buck had opened up to her about feeling uncomfortable about his roommate dating a woman he dated and bringing her home to their house. Never mind the fact that Taylor knows nothing about Buck and his relationships.

I mean she says something earlier in the episode “your life is nothing but meaningful relationships” (talking about the 118) but that’s pretty obvious to anyone who meets them so I don’t give her much credit for that. Not to mention a while back she spent time in the firehouse filming so that was easy enough to see then. But the fact that she could spend time with Buck and he could open up to her the way he has multiple times through out the show and she could still make the kind of snap judgments she does about him or use him the way she does is just awful.

By the end of the episode the shows tries to make Taylor look like this poor sad woman who is dealing with so much and I think they were even trying to make the connection that she was also feeling alone like Buck feels alone. They also try to make it seem like she just wants to help people, again I think trying to connect her to Buck and his innate desire to help everyone around him but I don’t think she’s anything like Buck and I still can’t stand her.

I really hope people haven’t forgotten that this was the same fame hungry woman that was ready to air footage of Bobby (calling out to his dead daughter) and almost jumping off the roof when he had eaten laced brownies. She made it clear when we met her when kind of a person she is. That she was the kind of person who would probably sell her own mother if it meant furthering her career. The thing is I definitely believe characters who make mistakes or who start out as villainous or problematic should be allowed to grow and change (I mean some of my favorite characters are ones that have started out awful) but this doesn’t feel like a character that has changed. At all. The way she went out of her way to try and humiliate Buck in front of Albert and Veronica and the things she said in the hallway prove that. I’ll be utterly disgusted if they try to pair her up with Buck.

------------

I’m just really tired of how the show seems to treat Buck. I have no problem with characters going through hard times, dealing with others being awful to them, or even abuse. These are all things that happen in real life and can make for great storylines. But if you’re going to show a character repeatedly going through something it should serve a purpose, it should be leading towards something and I’m not sure if the 911 writers get that. I love the show but sometimes I feel like they’re just putting Buck through stuff for the hell of it.

Like we’ve repeatably seen women treating Buck awful which in an of itself isn’t a problem if it’s going somewhere. Like the show could use that as way to say Buck is always picking the wrong people and has problems with speaking up for his needs (likely because of his family). There’s a lot the show could explore with Buck’s relationships especially with him seeing a therapist. Unfortunately though we haven’t been seeing him talking to the therapist and especially after this recent episode where it feels like the same old same old (i.e. a woman treats Buck like crap and Buck apologizes) it just doesn’t feel like there’s a good enough reason they keep writing Buck’s storylines like this.

First there was Abby who I feel like used Buck in some ways to jump start her life back up and then ghosted him when she didn’t need him anymore. Then she didn’t even take responsibility for that when she saw him again nor did the show really let Buck call her out on how she made him feel really. Then there was Ali who knew how dangerous Buck’s job was when she got involved with him and did anyway then chose to drop him when he was going through one of the toughest times of his life. The show didn’t even do Buck the dignity of really talking about what happened with that relationship she just was gone by the next season.

There was Taylor who just used Buck for sex and for her career and who the show tried to paint as being like the female version of Buck which I thought was kind of bullshit. Buck has made plenty of mistakes in his life and he certainly was all about sex when we first met him in season 1 but in the first place Buck would have never sunk to the kind of lows Taylor has just for his career. Being a firefighter is everything to Buck but the 118 are like his family and he wants to be a firefighter to help people not just for fame or glory. There was the lawsuit but Buck didn’t even realize how much that asshole lawyer was going to go after the 118 and I’m pretty sure if he did he wouldn’t have done it. You can tell when Buck talks about it to Eddie how much he still regrets it. As for all the sex Buck was having it’s clear he was looking for a more meaningful connection and just hadn’t learned yet that wasn’t where he was going to get it. Not to mention it seemed like a lot of the women he was sleeping with were just using him to an extent like the therapist who slept with him. Buck is very different from Taylor who in my eyes is not a very empathetic or emotional person and seems much more about herself than anyone else. So the shows need to compare them really gets on my nerves.

Then there was his date with Veronica which was just ridiculous. My problem wasn’t that they had her be some strawman SJW feminist who got offended by everything it was the way they had Buck respond. As usual he wasn’t allowed to stand up for himself and just had to sit there and take the mistreatment.

It hasn’t just been in romantic relationships either we saw what Buck went through with his family and the show just kind of closed that off with Buck forgiving them for a lifetime of abuse.

I don’t get why the show constantly lets Buck get treated like crap by so many people around him and without standing up for himself no less. Like I was so angry about that scene in the hallway with him and Taylor. It would have been one thing if Taylor had lashed out at him (maybe taking her own issues out on him something she could have explained later) but the show still should have had Buck push back against some of the bs she was spewing. I’m tired of Buck having to hear how much of a failure he is. I’m tired of seeing Buck hurt by people he tries to let in. Buck would literally die for the people he loves. He almost has numerous times. So to hear someone like Taylor trashing him and telling him he wasn’t a good friend was so infuriating.

-------

I mean it’s not that everything with Buck is handled bad. I love the relationships he has with the 118 and especially with Bobby and Athena. Her and Bobby are almost like parents to Buck especially when it feels like Buck never really had the family he deserved and I love them for that. There’s also Maddie who has always been there for Buck and their relationship is so important. But the best relationship Buck has is obviously with Eddie. He’s the one who gets Buck the most and who Buck is the most himself with. Buck doesn’t have to hide or hold back with Eddie and neither one of them are afraid to call each other out when necessary.

I love the relationship Buck has with Eddie and I really want them to just get together already, though I know there’s no guarantee that will happen. But if the plan isn’t for Buddie to happen I wish that the show would stop dangling that relationship around every episode as a way to pull viewers in because it’s clear they know how popular they are. I especially wish that the show would be clearer about what they plan to do with Buck’s sexuality. I feel like there’s been so many hints since the beginning that Buck could be bi and I don’t know where the show is going with it.

I’ve seen people saying that Buddie isn’t going to happen and it doesn’t need to happen because there’s already other lgbtq characters on 911 and there’s a main lgbtq ship on Lone Star but I disagree. Buddie could still happen but even if it doesn’t the show could definitely still explore Buck’s sexuality. It would be so important to have a main male character who has been straight presenting on a popular prime time show come out as bi. There’s this misconception that representation in media for lgbtq isn’t that big of a deal anymore because there are so many lgbtq characters now but it is still a big deal and many shows still don’t feature lgbtq characters and storylines prominently nor do their stories justice. They definitely don’t when it comes to bi characters especially bi men.

To have a character like Buck have a storyline that would explore his sexuality would be huge. It would be even more huge if it was about him coming out as bisexual. Biphobia is a big problem not just from straight people but within the lgbtq community maybe even more so in some ways. Popular media rarely shows accurate good depictions of bi storylines. Even when there are bi characters on shows or movies we usually don’t get to see their journey like we have in media through the years with other lgbtq characters. We rarely get to see what it’s like to figure out you’re bi and to live as a bi person. As someone who is bi myself I really want this to change.

The show has made many hints to Buck’s sexuality and it’s something that they could easily explore. If they aren’t planning on going that route though I don’t get why they keep hinting at it. I don’t get why they’ve had multiple instances where people have commented on Buck’s sexuality or being with Eddie and he never corrects them. I mean once would be enough but what is the point of the show doing it over and over? I mean the Lone Star moment was just crazy to me if they don’t plan on doing anything. It didn’t just feel like a throw away joke moment especially since Buck didn’t deny it and Eddie came around the corner it felt like the show was saying something.

If the show isn’t planning on having Buck come out or putting Eddie and him together why does it feel like Buck and Eddie behave almost like a married couple? I mean they connect and know each other almost more than some of the actual married couples on the show. It feels like Buck is Chris’ other dad. I mean we saw Eddie going out with Ana but at the same time it almost felt like it did with Shannon like Eddie just trying to do right by Christopher and make sure he has mom. After the date the one Eddie comes home to is Buck. When Chris is upset the one he runs to is Buck.

If Eddie and Buck and Chris aren’t meant to be a family was does the show keep making it seem like they are each other’s safe space? It’s clear that the connection Buck and Eddie have goes beyond just being friends. It’s just unclear why the show has developed them this way and what they plan on doing with them now.

One last thing in this giant ramble. This episode was called “Breaking Point” but I feel like we didn’t see Buck’s breaking point. I’m hoping that all these bread crumbs are leading somewhere in exploring Buck’s sexuality maybe this episode title was a clue that Buck’s breaking point is coming. We’ve had lots of hints about his sexuality throughout the course of the show and this season in particular there’s been a lot of talk about how lonely he feels and how disconnected he seems to feel from everyone. So maybe we’ll get to see him talking to his therapist and exploring some of these feelings. Maybe if Eddie continues to see Ana Buck will end up feeling jealous and this will bring up feelings he hasn’t wanted to confront yet, about himself and about Eddie. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

#thanks for reading if you made it to the end #sorry these are always so long #911 fox #evan buckley #buddie #911 4x08 #911!#buck s4 #long post #911fan #taylor kelly*

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 3 years

Text

No One Lives Forever Not Even God

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warnings: Language, Insomnia, mentions of antidepressants, mentions of drugs, drug use, mentions of addiction, mentions of nazis, parental neglect, mentions of the dead, cemeteries, mentions of meltdowns, corrupt government, mentions of cancer, low self esteem, self destructive behavior, medical testing, thoughts of murder, mentions of injury, and mentions of knives,

Word Count: 6.1k

Songs: Mother- Pink Floyd, He Can Only Hold Her- Amy Whinehouse, A Pearl- Mitski, Me and My Husband- Mitski, Saint Bernard- Lincon, Why Didn't You Stop Me?- Mistki, Nuestro Planeta- Kali Uchis, You Know I'm No Good-Amy Whinehouse, and Love Is a Losing Game- Amy Whinehouse.

"I’ve been in a very poetic mood lately. I think it’s funny how anything could be considered poetry and something you relate too. Like Twitter or any other social media and the ongoing gag of people feeling the need to announce the fact that they’re making moves in silence. But that’s what I’m doing, making moves in silence. If anyone is in my business now I’m politely asking you to remove yourself from it before I make you.”

A/N: I only did one proofread so sorry if there are typos and this is just more of an infodump to set up other chapters so enjoy ig. I almost gonna start another series a social media AU let me know if you'd want to be tagged in either of these series.

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

Nightmares come while I’m asleep but, when I’m awake the nightmares of the day just come for me then, so really I’m just stuck. I would like to say the antidepressants are working, it's just the insomnia that comes with them isn't working for me. I’m honestly starting to think mood stabilizers would do me better.

Mother, do you think they'll drop the bomb?

I’m not sure I could blame this all on the pills though. I’d have to give some of the credit to the massive bombshell that a certain ex Avenger had dropped on me.

It's almost like every five seconds a new giant secret about my mom is unveiled to me. Like sure I saw from the video that she’d left me that she had associations with some bad people like Kingpin but nazis?

SHIELD had apparently collapsed because it was infiltrated by Hydra but it was prevalent while my mom was still alive. Seems like she had worked for or with everyone who was anyone. I’m just gonna give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she didn’t know because up until two weeks ago I didn’t either.

Her and Natasha had been recruited at the same time and worked together but for someone who claims to have been so close to her you’d think she’d know that she was dead. “She went off the grid and that was the last I heard from her,” is all she gave me with a smile that even I could tell was fake and I’d just met the woman.

You know when grown folks come up to you and expect you to remember them because they met you once while you were like in the womb that’s kinda my relationship with Natasha. She knows so much about me and I know absolutely nothing about her save for the fact she's a spy meaning she’d be a great liar.

She used to babysit me sometimes if I could trust what she says that is. Apparently I called her “Auntie Nat”. For some reason no one ever thought it was a good idea to inform me that I had a godmother. Maybe they did and I just forgot.

I thought they were supposed to take care of you when something happened to your parents. And the one who’s alive is about as useless as the other. It might be fun to have another person that was considered family. Just maybe not a spy at least I’d know she’d walk out of my life so I won’t get attached.

Mother, do you think they'll like the song?

“Hey mom,” I sighed sitting down in the light dusting in front of her tombstone. “I know it’s been a while and I’ve got a lot to catch you up on,”

It took a bit of digging before I found what I was looking for in my bag. I ran my fingers along the cold surface of the small jewelry box. There was puffy white glue holding the larger pieces together.

I placed the box in the grass sitting next to the tombstone. I removed a purple coiled bracelet and sat it next to the box.

I tucked my legs under my body admiring the piece of jewelry.

“I brought you a bracelet,” I spoke. “It’s kinda like a friendship bracelet cause I have the other. I don’t know if I should leave it here in case someone steals it,” I laughed. “You’d have to be a real shitty person to steal from a cemetery though,”

I curse so often I didn’t realize I did it until I had already done it.

“Ah sorry! Excuse my French,” I chuckled.

“I met Natasha Romanoff and she said she knew you. She said she knew me too. I don’t remember her though…” I trailed off.

For someone who claimed to have a lot to say I sure was at a loss for words. I just didn’t know how to get any of them out.

“Oh! You’re not gonna believe me if I tell you but I got to meet some of the Avengers. Most of them were new though. You’d know some of them. Like Captain America I wanted his help but he couldn’t provide it,”

I had a bit of an episode when I was told no one knew where Thor was. I think it was justified though.

How the fuck do you lose two Avengers let alone the ones that can’t possibly be hidden. One is green and huge and the other leaves lightning bolts everywhere they go.

Mother, do you think they'll try to break my balls?

“The other is Natasha but I don’t think I really knew that yet. She went by Black Widow. I’m sure you knew that though. You probably know a lot,”

I wonder how many secrets she never told me about. I mean I could only imagine all the secrets working for the government would let you in on. Like she probably knew about big stuff like the Tesseract and aliens maybe she could’ve known about that.

“Okay I have a question. I have a lot actually but I think if you answer them I’m gonna get up and run out of here,” I joked.

“Number one is my middle name Natalia because of your SHIELD buddy? Like it might just be a coincidence but it could also be a godmother typa situation or something,”

It was a running theory. She would’ve known my mom before I was born. And if what I was told is true they’d be pretty close too and Natasha translates back to Natalia and I know she’s Russian. It makes sense.

Ooh

Mother, should I build the wall?

“Uh… there’s this boy,”

When was there not? It seems like there was always someone in my life. Carmen in therapist mode said it’s because I put my self worth into my relationship status.

“He’s really nice. Like really really nice. Nicer than anybody I’ve ever been associated with. It’s just he’s like…” I didn't know how to put the next part into words. “He’s just too nice. Too nice for me at least. Like he’s such a good person and I’m just me,”

“And it’s I feel bad,” I sighed. I was getting myself too worked up over this. “Like I keep playing like a game of tug a war with him where I let him in and kick him out again it’s tiring. I don’t even do it on purpose. I feel like we could be something maybe. But I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen. It’s a self defense mechanism. At least I think.”

I do it with everyone. I shut them out before they can get it. The less people you let into your life the less people that can walk out.

It’s a bulletproof tactic. At least I used to think it was. Never realized people could get hurt including myself.

“I saw dad,” I informed myself? I guess I’m not sure how healthy it is to have a conversation with someone you know can’t respond and isn't listening. “Like two days ago actually I didn’t say anything I freaked out and ran away. It made me think though,”

Mother, should I run for president?

Made me think about how I’d done so well on my own. Well I’m not gonna take all the credit, most of it was Carmen keeping my ass in line. I haven’t talked to her in a while. I haven’t talked to anyone in a while.

”I found a small studio apartment in Queens. It was the cheapest one I could find. I’m just renting it like an Airbnb right now. I need to find a permanent place and a job,”

I couldn’t find a permanent place at my age unless I had full autonomy which leads me to my next topic.

“So I was thinking about getting emancipated which everything would’ve been a lot easier if you were here then we could just go to court for custody cause you’d win for sure.”

Mother, should I trust the government?

“I know you never got to know how corrupt SHIELD was but do they like keep tabs on everyone who does anything to them or related to them? Because like I did a little snooping and I know they had files for all the Avengers and other people like Kingpin.”

I knew I was going to have to do more than sit here and ask a dead person what to do but ranting to someone who couldn’t spill my secrets was a start.

“I was just wondering how deep it went or if they had hidden stuff on me,”

Mother, will they put me in the firing line?

It’s probably common knowledge that if you mess with the government they’ll mess back. I’d like to think they were like bees. You leave them alone they’ll leave you alone. Only stinging when provoked.

But every branch of the government is like a wasp. They don’t die if they sting and they’ll sting you for no reason at all. They just like to see people in pain.

And I’m sure the energy research branch of SHIELD would probably be more than interested in a walking fire bomb that can move things without touching them.

I mean I’m not going to stop poking things around until I figure out what’s wrong with me. So might as well not complain.

“So I don’t have many things figured out right now and the whole you and SHIELD thing only confused me more so if you could just like come tell me what to do just this once that’d be great,” I laughed.

At first I was contemplating if this was weird or not but hearing me say that I now know this is pathetic. It always has been.

Ooh

Is it just a waste of time?

But I didn’t know if I should keep searching. Maybe I should just pretend like I’d never gotten introduced to the world of powers or mutations at all. For all I know Peter, Carmen, Felicia, Wade and I are just normal people who do normal people stuff.

Sure I wanted answers but I didn’t want to end up like those people who spend their whole life searching for an answer they won’t find any and end up never living at all.

Like a quote my mom used to say all the time “The brave may not live forever but the cautious do not live at all,”

She really just used it so she didn’t have to listen to being put on bed rest but it obviously had a deeper meaning and she knew that.

I keep finding myself stuck on that phrase. That and the whole when the dust settles poem.

I’ve been in a very poetic mood lately. I think it’s funny how anything could be considered poetry and something you relate too.

Like Twitter or any other social media and the ongoing gag of people feeling the need to announce the fact that they’re making moves in silence.

But that’s what I’m doing, making moves in silence. If anyone is in my business now I’m politely asking you to remove yourself from it before I make you.

“Uh I don’t know if I should even tell you this cause you died before it was even a problem in the first place but…” I blew out a breath digging my feet deeper into the ground.

“I’ve been clean for like two weeks now. Which is actually a thing I’m pretty proud of right now.”

I’d stopped using everything except weed, nicotine because those weren’t drugs and even then I used it way less than before. Oh, and my antidepressants too but that’s obviously okay they’re prescribed.

I hated the word clean made me seem like an addict which I wasn’t. I’m many things but I wasn’t an addict. I just didn’t know of any other words to use.

I wasn’t an addict but I’d say the lines between recreational use and dependency were blurring just a bit. I had gotten it straight though. I’m good now. The antidepressants are helping.

Hush now baby, baby, don't you cry

“You have a superpower of just making people feel better immediately. I don’t know if it was the fact you were my mom or what but if you even just put a bandaid on a stab wound it’d probably stop hurting and disappear,”

I wasn’t even exaggerating there was this one time I got hurt at the zoo and she just kissed it and I forgot about the fact that I even fell.

I’m not sure how true that is though because I couldn’t actually recall the memory I was just told about it by my mom a few years after it happened. So I guess I remember not remembering then being reminded. Weird.

“I wanna see the giraffes!” Aaliyah cried, stomping her feet down on the concrete.

This was one of the only times mom didn’t have to work on the weekends and Liyah had to have her way like always.

“Mom!” I screamed “Tell her you said we could see the lions first,”

She just sighed. “Well since she’s the youngest do you think you could be nice and let her go first please?”

“Fine,” I huffed. I wasn’t doing it for Liyah, I was doing it for mom. Even a blind person could see how tired she’d been lately.

Liyah laughed at me sticking her tongue out. She’s such a brat.

“You’re so dumb.” I rolled my eyes at her.

“I know you are but what am I ?” She teased hitting my shoulder before running away.

I took off after her. She may have been fast but I knew I could catch up to her.

I almost had her when my foot got caught on something. It launched me towards the ground and I put my hands down to catch myself but I still hit my knee.

I slid on the concrete scuffing my leg. I didn’t scream because that would make me weak and it didn't hurt that bad. I just bit my lip and stood up.

I didn’t want to limp but it hurt too much to put pressure on my leg.

Liyah had beat me back to mom and when I reached them she was already apologizing.

Fake.

She was just scared to get in trouble. I wasn’t gonna snitch on her anyways.

“Let me see it,” Mom asked, grabbing my arm, pulling me to sit down on a stonehenge.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a first aid kit. She always had everything in her purse. It was kinda like a super power. The black Marry Poppins.

She wiped the scrape with an alcohol wipe and I just barely hissed. It didn’t even really hurt anymore.

She placed a bandaid on it, smoothing her hands on top of it before placing a kiss there.

“There,” She wiped her hands on her thighs before standing up “All better?”

I nodded my head and we went off to see the giraffes because I’m nice like that.

“In case you were wondering, Aaliyah still always gets her way even now. I’d say she’s got me beat on the manipulation game honestly,”

It’s fine though I taught her everything she knows not everything I know. I could still get one over on her if needed.

Mama's gonna make all of your nightmares come true

“I found your pendant, the SHIELD one. Which I guess makes all of this real no matter how much I want it to be fake. I just want this to be a poorly written book where I wake up and the past five years were all a dream,”

God knows how much I meant that. Well maybe I didn’t mean it too much because some people I’ve met in the past five years are people I don’t think I could survive very long without. Even though I kinda exploded on everyone so maybe I’m gonna have to test my theory on how long I can really survive.

“Hey Doc,” I greeted pushing up the door of the restaurant.

“Hey sweetheart, how ya been?” He queried.

“I’ve been better,”

“I hear ya,” He nodded.

Once we were in the back of the restaurant aka his office. I pulled out the diamond. Doc knew everything about everyone and anything. He could also make a duplicate of anything you gave him.

“Whatcha got for me?” He asked, rubbing his hands together.

“This, I’m not sure what it is,”

I placed the bird pendant on the desk. I found it in a shoe box filled with my mom's stuff.

“I was wondering if you knew,”

He lifted it up to his eye to get a better view, His eyesight so bad that his glasses were practically a magnifying glass.

“It’s a crest, I don’t think I’ve seen this before it’s most likely from a government branch,” He placed it back down on his messy desk. “I can do some more extensive research for you if you’d like,”

“Yes, that’d be great,”

“Stop by again tomorrow and I’ll fill you

I wish I never went back to Doc’s place or found out about flash drive, Vulture, SHIELD, any of it. Just when I thought my life couldn’t get anymore fucked up the devil came out the woodworks and spit in my face.

Mama's gonna put all of her fears into you

“I remember all that testing they did after I agreed to do whatever Stark needed me to do sooo badly. I still don’t really know what he did- or he’s doing with all that DNA and other stuff he’d gotten from me,”

Aren’t the Avengers and by default Tony Stark products of SHIELD so wouldn't that mean whoever’s behind all of that could’ve been the one to tell Tony about the fire thing in the first place.

That had been the main thing about the whole Stark situation that I still couldn’t figure out. Someone needs to tell me how he found out and they better tell me now.

“There are multiple lacerations 1-2 inches lining the upper and lower abdomen,” The doctor lady announced to her assistant. Before moving her cold hand away from my side pushing my shirt back down.

Okay that’s chill nothing I haven’t had before.

“We’re gonna have to do another X-ray is that okay?” Her assistant asked. I wasn’t going to bother to learn their names. I was planning to stay that long anyways.

What’s the point? They’re just going to come back and say the machine is broken and then do another blood test.

“Yeah sure,”

I was led into a much bigger room than the last. There was much more machinery too.

I was strapped down to a cold blue cushioned table by leather straps. Straps weren’t really necessary, not like I was planning on lashing out and mauling anyone.

I closed my eyes when the flashes of the machine went off. Apparently I had fractured three of my ribs and bruised my sternum.

You’d think they’d let me go now but noooo they need more blood and then when they were done drawing blood.

They had to hook me up to a machine to monitor- I don’t even fucking know what they were monitoring.

I just know I had all the pads with wires on my temples and chest and everywhere else. It reminded me of that one time I had to do a sleep study.

Except they didn’t have holographs to read off and fancy probably government funded tech then. They sure as hell didn’t have all this whispering either. Or maybe they did and I was just unconscious.

Still I didn’t even want to actually be here and I was cold for once.

“How much long do we have here?” I groaned.

“Not much longer. We just have and MRI left,”

Yeah right. I was gonna be in here for the rest of my life

“I could probably go back there if I wanted answers,” I spoke quietly.

“But I don’t want the government in my business like that well at least just not more than they probably are already at least and the tests are so invasive,”

Mama's gonna keep you right here under her wing

That’s not the only invasive thing in my life. Or should I say was in my life? I don’t fucking care really.

My dad was somehow the strictest and the most lenient person ever. I think he just wanted control.

I used to blame his alcoholism for everything he did but no really he’s just a shitty person. A shitty person who likes to beat on women and take doors off the hinges.

“You are so pathetic!” My mom screamed at my dad.

They had been at this all night. For so long that I’m seriously contemplating jumping out of this small window right now.

Sapphire had no qualms sleeping on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. Aaliyah and I however were still wide awake.

I’m not sure exactly what was going on in her head but I’m assuming we're still up for the same reason. To kill our dad if he even touches our mom.

I had a kitchen knife in hand as I sat on the bathroom sink. I always had a knife every time my dad started yelling a little too aggressively just in case but this time felt different. Like I was really prepared to stab him this time.

I didn’t know what it was but something felt off.

“Are they done?” Aaliyah asked, rubbing her eyes. The apartment had fallen silent.

“I don’t know. Stay here,” I hopped down off the sink.

I should’ve known she wasn’t gonna listen to me. The kitchen was empty which means they must’ve moved to their room.

The next moment was the sort straight out of a family sitcom except the family was falling apart and the kids were going crazy but otherwise it could’ve very well been an “oopsie” misunderstanding moment. Where the younger child asks “Are mommy and daddy getting a divorce?”

Then the oldest child pulls them into their body and whispers “I dunno kiddo,” or “No they’re just going through a rough patch,” anything like that.

Except it wasn’t that. That wasn’t what she said and that wasn’t what Aaliyah asked me.

God how I wish that was what she asked me.

I have a bad habit of acting before I think. I opened the door opening my mouth to let out the words in my brain.

“You’re dying? How are you dying?”

They both turned to look at me like they were just noticing they weren’t alone.

My mom sighed moving closer to me grabbing my arm.

“I’m- Im not no ones dying,”

The door creaked as Aaliyah pushed her way into the room.

“But you said ‘I need you to step up you need to know how to handle it when I’m dead’,” She paraphrased cleaning out the cuss words.

“It didn’t mean literally dying right now,”

Now I could see how this could be us just jumping to conclusions from like two sentences but she had been weird lately. Like she’s always traveled a lot and been secretive but lately she’s been extra secretive.

And I could tell the secret wasn’t to protect herself so whos to say it wasn’t the fact she was currently dying. It actually makes perfect sense.

I’m starting to wish I wasn’t always right. Stage 4 Lymphoma. Basically we should go coffin shopping pretty soon.

If only she wasn’t so selfish and would get treatment for it. She couldn’t leave me here by myself. Who’s gonna take care of us if she dies.

I’d thought about it before and I decided I’d take on the role of caregiver for my sisters but then it was only a what if situation.

Wade has cancer and he’s not dead but that’s only because he got pumped with like super drugs shit.

Now I just needed to find some super drugs and figure out how to get her to take them.

Fuck Cancer and fuck my dad. Why couldn’t he have gotten the diagnosis instead of my mom. A life for a life type beat.

I guess that wouldn’t have made for a good tragic backstory would it. And what fun is life without a tragic backstory.

My only question is when does the backstory end and when does the actual plot begin because clearly I’m not there yet. It’s only tragedy after tragedy.

Maybe that is my story, just pain and suffering. Someone has to be the butt of the joke.

She won't let you fly but she might let you sing

“You always told me to surround myself with people who you could block out the rest of the world with. Peter’s like that so was Olivia she was one of those people for me. When we weren’t yelling at each other or crying, I mean. Still wish you could’ve met her though,”

“AH YES!” I exclaimed, pumping my fist. “I found it,” I waved the joint in the air.

“Alright come sit down then,” Olivia laughed, patting the seat on the couch next to her.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Where’s the lighter?”

She just laughed at me again. Before reaching into my pocket and slipping it out. I couldn’t help but smile at how intimate that action felt for no reason at all.

I quickly and lightly pressed my lips to hers muttering a quick “thank you,”

About three minutes had passed and I could feel the weed taking course through my system.

My head was in her lap until I abruptly shot up gasping at the beginning of Super Rich Kids by Frank Ocean.

“Dance with me,” I pleaded it didn’t take much convincing because here we were twirling around. Although it was much more giggling than dancing.

I bumped my leg on the glass coffee table and immediately apologized making Liv and I laugh so hard I almost peed my pants.

I was laid out on the soft white fur rug with Olivia laying her chin on my chest. I ran my hands through her hair.

It was actually very easy there were no knots my fingers just glided smoothly through.

“I mean shit,” I breathed “I know I can’t run from the rest of the world forever but until then? Bitch you can call me Flash cause I’m zoomin’.”

She giggled at that before speaking up.

“You don’t have to run you can just stay here with me forever,”

Her words were so genuine it made me want to cry. She basically just said “I love you” in more or less words.

“You know what? I think I might,”

She gave me a tired smile, turning her head to place a kiss on the top of my breast.

I smiled back at her and how adorable she looked right now. I just want to kiss her for the rest of forever.

When I glanced back down at her I could hear her breathing slow and her eyes had fluttered shut. She was asleep.

I felt all warm and fuzzy and at peace and I couldn’t tell if it was the weed or if it was just being in Olivia’s presence.

I wasn’t ready to say these words to her when she was conscious yet maybe I’d never be ready but I’d say them now. Just to get them off my chest.

“I love you,” I whispered.

I never really felt comfortable saying that to anyone. Probably a result of not hearing it enough as a child or something. My family’s never been affectionate anyway. That’s fine because I wasn’t my family, I was my own person.

Stroking her hair gently before drifting off to the land of dreams myself.

So much for forever huh?

It’s funny to think how I took times like that for granted if only I knew those were some of the only moments of normalcy I’d get for a while. I’d spent too much time thinking about what could’ve been with almost everything.

So much so that I didn’t take much time to actually be. Now I feel like I’ve made it to the point of no return. Not mentally but like with everyone else around me. I think I pushed people too far away this time. Not so sure I could get them back.

“Uh I can't really remember what I’ve already told you so I’ll run through it all. This vigilante or superhero Spiderman started doing his thing then I got caught up in his mess.” That was most definitely an oversimplification but what do I look like telling my mom I was a well known thief. “Then his relation to Tony Stark got extended to me so now I kinda do stuff for him but I don’t work for him.”

I don't work for him he might think I do, but in reality he works for me. I had almost everyone at the compound wrapped around my finger.

“I don’t think I really wanna work for anyone. I was offered to be an Avenger in training but that isn’t really my style. I will use his gym though.” I rambled on.

It was kinda weird how easy it was to rant to my mom like this because not like she could voice her opinions about anything. I guess I hadn’t visited in so long that I forgot what it was like.

Mama's gonna keep baby cosy and warm

“Oh!” I exclaimed remembering a very important factor that I left out. “Then we have the whole Staten Island fiasco that I told you about. I remember telling you that. I’m still searching for answers on how I did that too,”

Like some real answers not that radiation BS.

“Your phone’s broken,” I pointed out the cracked screen sitting on the wood.

“Oh shit!” Peter cried “May’s gonna kill me this is the second phone I’ve broken this month,”

I came off way calmer than I was feeling. I’m surprised I wasn’t running around screaming right about now. I was probably just paralyzed in fear.

How do you react in a situation like this in the first place.

“Okay how long are we going to be sitting here? What are we waiting on?” We’d be up here looking down at the fire crackling underneath the pier for like 15 minutes now.

“I don’t know actually,” He sighed.

“Uh…”

How was I supposed to respond to that? That was the driest response to anything in the history of the world.

“Well since I’ve already pinky promised I won’t spill your secret can I ask some questions while we wait for you to figure it out?”

“Sure, go ahead,” He nodded, shaking his arms.

“Okay number one did you think I had died or something because if someone burst into flames in front of me I’d probably think Satan was coming for me. I’d cry too,” I laughed but had to stop myself as the stabbing in my ribs ran through me.

“No, I didn’t think you were dead, you had a pulse,” He pointed out “Maybe I could’ve thought you were dying though. And I wasn’t crying,”

Liar. He so was crying.

“Aw you don’t have to lie I think it’s cute,” I teased if I didn’t feel like my body was falling apart I might’ve poked his side.

“Alright, second question: do the webs like come out of you? Cause that’s kinda disgusting,”

“No, I make them with chemicals ‘n stuff. I’d explain the science to you but I’m not sure how much you’d care.”

I let out a small laugh knowing what feeling would come if I laughed too hard.

“I mean you could explain it ‘m just not sure how much of it I’d understand,”

We both laughed at that.

“On the topic of the webs what’s there integrity like how well do they hold up or like how long,”

“Uh…” He blew out a breath running his hands over his face “As far as I know they last up to two hours. That is unless someone cuts them or something,”

I couldn’t help but wonder if Thorn was one of those someone’s to cut the webs maybe I was the only someone. I didn’t really need to ask the question. Aaron had already answered the question for me when he told me about the deal at the ferry. I just wanted to see what Peter would tell me honestly.

I spent the rest of the night asking questions and cracking jokes. I was talking for so long I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.

It should be a world record how fast I managed to fuck up 5 friendships. Well it’s my personal best at least. Only took like 4 minutes.

I feel like that’s all I do is just fuck up everything. I used to believe there was a difference between being fucked up and being a fuckup but the older I get the more I realize that there isn’t.

It’s like someone built a self destruct button in my head and every time something good happens to me I feel the need to run away.

Like Peter he’s literally perfect he's smart, respectful, adorable, and selfless. He’s literally a fucking superhero for godsake.

I was trying so hard not to fall asleep. I really was but all the Trigonometry chapter was doing was mixing with the sound of rain outside and triggering the urge to fall into a deep sleep.

“Okay,” Peter tapped his textbook with his pen. I wish I could be confident enough to do math with a pen.

“So sin is equal to the opposite of whatever angle you’re trying to find so first you have too…”

He droned on, I knew he was talking about the math problem lying on the bed in front of me but I wasn’t listening. Maybe if I sat at the desk I could actually be paying attention right now.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” I sat up on my elbows yawning.

“Are you tired?”

I just hummed again. Until I realized what the question was. I reached for my phone and it was already 9:03 that woke me up for sure.

“Oh shit! I gotta get back,”

Not like I’d get in trouble or anything but Carmen would get on my ass about the fact I didn’t come back when I said I would then she’d make something out of nothing.

I scrambled around trying to find all my things to put them back in my bag.

“Wait it’s raining though,” Peter pointed out.

“Yeah,” I chuckled “It’s New York it’s always raining,”

“Yeah but it’s cold and wet and dark so if you tried to skate you’d probably get hurt,”

I knew what he was doing and it was working because frankly all his excuses were shit because one I don’t get cold and two I could just walk and there are lights everywhere but I was gonna stay anyway. I was too tired to argue right now.

“May!” Peter shouted.

“Yes?” She called back.

“Can Y/N stay for the night?”

“Yeah if her parents are okay with it,”

That’s how I ended up wearing some shirt with some dumb science pun sitting on the couch watching Aladdin for like the millionth time ever. I was singing along to One jump ahead when I felt eyes on me.

I turned my head but before I could make eye contact with Peter he acted as if he was watching the movie the whole time.

“What?” I giggled. Fuck, I hadn’t like genuinely giggled in the longest time.

“Nothing,” He replied, turning back towards the TV again.

This time I was the one to stare at him wondering what was going on in his head. Not even the fourth song in and I was already yawning struggling to keep my head up.

This goes to show how much willpower I had because I couldn’t even stop my eyelids from falling shut. I deserved to sleep though I’d been exhausted lately.

There’s only like 6 people on this planet that I trust enough to fall asleep around and surprisingly Peter had become one with like 5 months of knowing me.

I would still trust him if given the chance I’m just not sure how much he trusts me right now. I understand though. I don’t deserve anyone’s trust.

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@tomdiddlyumptious

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 3 years

Text

Speak of the Devil (S2, E2)

Damn. I love this show.

As usual, my time stamped SPOILER FULL thoughts are below.

As always, I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if talk about depression/mania/suicidal ideation is going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

0:14 - Hector’s back!! hahaha :)

0:40 - So Martin is worried about Malcolm.....he could stop manipulating Malcolm if he’s so worried. That would make Malcolm feel slightly better at least.

0:50 - What. A. Boss. That ambush was gorgeously executed *chef’s kiss*. haha how many times do you think Jessica has orchestrated this type of ambush on one of her children?

0:52 - I love this outfit on Malcolm. Seriously - why is it sooo attractive when he’s not wearing a tie?

0:55 -........he’s not seeing Gabrielle....but but he had a lollipop last episode. Am I supposed to believe he buys his own lollipops? Maybe he bought some to throw the team off the scent? UGH. MALCOLM, SWEETHEART, GO BACK TO THERAPY. YOU’RE IN CRISIS. ....wait. I bet you he’s not seeing Gabrielle because she knows when he’s lying. He’s probably scared that he’ll end up telling her about Endicott. And I’m pretty sure that legally Gabrielle can’t keep a crime a secret regardless of doctor-patient confidentiality.

1:02 - .....Malcolm didn’t know that he wasn’t paying his own therapy bills? WHO DID HE THINK WAS PAYING THEM?!?! Damn. Rich people, am I right?

1:10 - You ever wonder how many therapists Malcolm saw as a kid before they found Gabrielle? Just me? Cool.

1:15 - OMG. “Sexual in nature”?!?! Calm down Jess. He’s a grown ass man and even if it was sexual Malcolm sure as hell wouldn’t want to talk to his mother about his sex life.

1:19 - Oh so now both of your kids are in a “good place”? Martin, less than a minute ago you were ‘worried’ about Malcolm. Further proof that Martin is a liar and we can’t believe anything he says. Ever.

1:43 - Tom Payne’s physical acting during this interaction with Jessica is incredible. Ugh. Honestly, can I give him an Emmy myself? Look. Look at his face when he says, “You wouldn’t understand.” This is a teenage boy trying to hide something from his mom and is terrified that she’ll see the lie if he makes eye-contact. <3

1:45 - You know, Jessica really isn’t a perfect mother (especially to Ainsley) but she does care about her kids. I love her for it. She actually shows more concern for her adult children than most parents with adult children that I’ve been exposed to.

2:08 - I can’t decide if I love the music that was playing through that scene or if it’s just super cheesy and cringey. I mean “I did a bad bad thing” right as the title page rolls out? Kind of amazing but also super dorky.

2:13 - So Mr. David hears this whole conversation. Malcolm talking about his guilt, Martin calling Malcolm a hero, and Malcolm saying that the only person he can talk to about his problems is Martin. Sooooo either

Mr. David is being paid very well to keep quiet on Whitly family drama,

Mr. David stopped listening years ago.

Mr. David is a moron who can’t connect the dots. OR

Mr. David is going to blow this whistle on this fiasco to Jessica soon. I mean, he called her in the first season when Malcolm started visiting Martin. Mr. David has Jessica’s number...and I have a hunch that Mr. David cares about Malcolm. He’s watched Malcolm grow up into a troubled, bizarre, but very sweet man.

2:14 - “Why are you calling me?” Malcolm sounds upset that Martin is calling him; so why pick up the phone? I mean, I guess Martin will call him back incessantly but still.

2:19 - Malcolm’s completely honest version of how he’s doing mentally is heartbreaking. He “doesn’t recognize himself anymore”? Ugh. Baby. My heart is shattering. Someone hug him. OR TAKE HIM TO GABRIELLE.

2:30 - There is a moment when Malcolm says, “narcissistic psychopath” where is genuinely sounds like he’s about to have a complete breakdown. This boy is on the verge. My whump heart loves it and it makes me evil.

2:56 - aaannnnnnd there’s Malcolm on the verge of tears. This boy. Ugh. <3

3:00 - “It’s not going away Malcolm. The guilt. Take it from me.” Sooooo Mr. David isn’t a moron right? He’s going to connect the dots. He has to. ISTG Jessica keeps saying “No more lies” in the promos because Mr. David told her what he overheard.

3:06 - And that is the face of a boy who is dead on the inside. Seriously, he’s spent his whole life trying to convince himself (and others) that he is nothing like his father. But here we are - all his fears confirmed and it’s killed him.

3:20 - “Is this what you used?” Ainsley is talking about how Malcolm disposed of the body right? Because last episode she thanked Malcolm for covering for her. Sooooo she clearly knows that she killed Endicott even if she doesn’t remember it. I mean, she was covered in blood - Malcolm wasn’t.

3:23.- OMG. Endicott was killed with the Milton family silver. hahahaha why is that so funny to me?

3:43 - Just how big is that gap in her memory? I’d truly like to know. When did she check out, when did she check in, and are those times different than what she’s letting Malcolm believe?

3:55 - Yeah - I still want to know why she moved in. COVID? Is she afraid she’s going to do something else murdery? Because surely, living in the house where you know you killed someone can’t be pleasant. Or easy. Unless of course Ainsley is more like Martin than we’d like to believe.

4:09 - hahahahaha I am living for Malcolm’s facial response to Jessica saying, “I am in charge of boxes.”

4:22 - hahahaha Malcolm and Ainsley teasing Jessica about Gil is so precious. I love it. I wish they were always that happy.

4:40 - Look at Malcolm’s face when he says, “You and a certain Lieutenant”. He’s practically giddy. Whether that’s because he’s thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to tease his mother OR because he’s always wanted Jessica and Gil to be together in that way that many children who grow up in single parent homes hope for a fairytale parental ending. My guess - a mixture of both.

4:45 - Ainsley looks delighted at the idea of Gil/Jessica too. I assume it’s because she loves the gossip and the opportunity to tease Jessica. BUT I also wonder what Ainsley’s relationship with Gil is like? Do they have one?

4:58 - “Does he let you wear his turtlenecks?” OMG. bahahahaha comedic GOLD.

5:10 - THIS. The evolution of JT and Malcolm’s friendship is everything. 10/10 would recommend. So sweet. LOOK AT HOW CONCERNED MALCOLM IS. <3 <3 Malcolm’s been calling JT?!?! UGH. This warms my cold dead heart.

5:20 - JT is a bad liar. This dude is not okay.

5:27 - “When I say I’m fine, I’m always lying.” .....we already knew this but it hurts to hear Malcolm say is so nonchalantly.

5:32 - JT does the sign of the cross....so he’s definitely religious.

5:56 - “Holy...” “Watch it Bright.” hahaha how much do you want to bet that Gil took Malcolm to church once (1) time as a kid. It went so poorly that Gil never brought him again. Malcolm was probably questioning the priest and generally just asking a lot of “why” questions.

6:15 - Gil is so done with the Edrisa+Bright banter. Look at his face - he’s just sooo tired. .....is Gil particularly cranky this episode because Jessica is dodging his phone calls?

6:23 - Malcolm looks pensive as soon as Gil mentions that the Father had been with the church for 30 years. Why?

6:56 - I’m not going to lie. I’m really getting tired of the crap Dani (and even Gil in this episode - is he mad at Malcolm for avoiding him when he was hospital-bound? Or just cranky because Jessica isn’t calling him back?) are giving Malcolm. He’s asking a question relevant to the case. Sure - it’s not an easy question to ask but last season they wouldn’t have glared at him for asking it. I understand that Dani is upset with Malcolm for lying to her and she probably thinks he knows something about how Endicott died. I get it - Malcolm screwed up. BUT Dani’s reaction is so over the top. I understand where she’s coming from - she has trust issues. That doesn’t give her the right to treat him like garbage for the rest of his life. It’s been literally MONTHS.

7:11 - “That’s not a no.”....Damn, he looks cute when he says that.

7:30 - I LOVE that Malcolm knows so much about the Bible and Catholicism even though he’s not a believer. It makes me think he investigated a ton of religions as a kid - looking for relief from his trauma. I respect that he did the research and I respect that he doesn’t (openly at least) think other people are moronic/short-sighted for believing in God(s).

7:56 - I’ll be honest, my first reaction to Jonah was: “Why does he look and sound like he’s dying?”

8:03 - “Catholic.” haha I love some good religious comedy. BUT AGAIN GIL, THAT GLARE IS SO NOT NECESSARY. That wasn’t a ‘warning - you’re being insensitive’ glare. That was a ‘I’m your father and you’re in sooo much trouble’ glare. I love Gil with my whole heart but everyone is being a dick to Malcolm today (minus JT and Edrisa) and I’m done with it. Malcolm’s fragile mental state can’t handle it. Be nice to my boy.

8:35 - Is this Gil’s church?!? Why does he know all the church staff by name? He either attends this church or someone gave him an amazing briefing before he got to the church.

9:34 - At least Gil knows something is wrong with Malcolm.

9:41 - What? That’s it? No. Gil - press on. Don’t accept Malcolm’s “I’m fine”.

10:18 - I wish this scene didn’t end with Gil’s look of disbelief and concern. I wish we got to see Gil tell Malcolm not to go see Martin. I wish we got a more concrete papa!Gil moment.

10:42 - Something about the fact that Martin is tethered to a pole like a tether-ball is hilarious to me. Also - why are some prisoners not tied up? The inmate talking to Friar Pete has no rope.

10:52 - Ugh. When exactly did Martin give Malcolm “The Talk”? Like how old was Malcolm? How traumatic was it? Ugh. It’s very upsetting to remember that Martin acted like a good father to Malcolm for a good portion of the first 10 years of Malcolm’s life. It really doesn’t help Malcolm’s PTSD.

11:00 - That’s right Malcolm. Don’t let Martin ramble. Stand your ground. <3 So proud of Malcolm <3

11:15 - Listen to the way Malcolm says, “Who is that?”. He’s some combination of resigned and scared. I love it.

11:33 - Friar Pete is so creepy. The way he just walks up to Malcolm until his rope goes taught?! UGH. Poor Malcolm looks so done with this whole situation. He’s rolling his eyes and grimacing at various points throughout this scene. He has some major sass right now and I’m here for it.

11:41 - “You two should talk!” ....Is this Martin’s really eff-ed up way of trying to help Malcolm with his guilt about Endicott? I don’t like it.....and Malcolm’s face tells me he doesn’t either.

12:48 - Is that true? Can churches really not exorcise people without medical permission in the current day? I thought exorcisms were just banned? IDK - I’m a Christian, my branch of faith doesn’t do exorcisms.

13:33 - YES! A JT AND MALCOLM SCENE. <3 <3 I’m unreasonably happy about this.

13:45 - sooooooo is this Norman’s real home and his real mother? The first time I watched it I thought it was some sort of weird catholic-inpatient facility but now I’m not sure.

15:10 - Ok. I can’t hold back anymore. Malcolm’s shoes. They. Are. Awful. I understand - Tom Payne is a short guy. He probably needs heels to fit in the shot. I’m not mad about the heels. I’m made that they gave him very very ugly heels. Is it just me? These shoes are hideous.

15:14 - “Hi Norman.” .....Malcolm is so soft here and I’m in love with it. My cold dead heart is melting. Also JT’s freaked-out look in this scene is everything.

15:25 - There’s something about the way Malcolm says “Good.” that just hits me really hard. It’s beautiful. He sounds and looks a little scared but he’s also really calm and professional and it’s just...*chef’s kiss*.

16:44 - “He’s clearly mentally-ill.” I love this. I love that Malcolm is defending the person with a severe mental illness because he doesn’t have any proof that Norman committed a crime. It also breaks my heart. Makes me think of how many people dismissed or judged Malcolm poorly throughout his life because Malcolm’s mental illnesses. Even though they weren’t quite as extreme as Norman’s.

16:54 - I love this. JT is telling Malcolm to stay behind the line partially out of fear (because this whole Norman situation is clearly freaking JT out big time) but also partially because he just cares about Malcolm. I love their friendship and it’s evolution. SO. MUCH.

17:21 - Is there a mirror of something? How the hell did Norman know that Malcolm crossed the salt? Was it the slight creaking in the floorboards?

17:54 - Dude. Is every suspect this season going to accuse Malcolm of being a killer? First Boyd, now Norman. This is not helping Malcolm’s mental state or his ability to hide his guilt from the team.

18:30 - “Malcolm Bright. Always crossing the line.” lol. I love JT here. He’s half-teasing Malcolm. Makes me think that he subtly trying to tell Malcolm that he isn’t the killer Norman says that he is.

18:44 - I DO NOT LIKE THIS. LOOK AT HOW SCARED MALCOLM IS WHEN HE WALKS INTO THE ROOM. A ROOM WITH GIL AND DANI IN IT. THIS IS NOT RIGHT. HE’S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF THEM.

19:00 - “What the hell do you have?”. Wow. Okay. No. I love Gil. I understand that he loves Malcolm like a son and he’s scared for Malcolm and Malcolm’s mental state. But this question is so over the line. Gil knows damn well what Malcolm’s mental diagnoses are. It feels like he’s accusing Malcolm of being crazy. I don’t like it.

19:17 - “Are you serious?” Ok. Dani really needs to start being nicer to Malcolm. She doesn’t have to trust him but some professional civility would be great. I really don’t like how hard the writers are pushing this tension between Dani and Malcolm. It makes Dani look so immature. An adult would be pissed but get over the anger after literal months. The relationship wouldn’t necessarily be the same but it sure as hell wouldn’t be this hostile.

19:40 - Something about Malcolm being the calmest person in the room is both comforting and upsetting.

19:55 - “My father gave it to me.”.....that’s so not going to help Gil’s concern about Malcolm.

20:50 - This is cute. We don’t get to see enough of Jessica and Ainsley acting like a semi-normal mother-daughter duo. I love it.

21:00 - “We are WASPs. It’s. What. We. Do.” OMG. Hahahaha

21:05 - I love how invested Ainsley is in the Gil/Jessica relationship. It’s so clear that she wants her Mom to be happy and I love it. It also makes me wonder if she ever wanted Gil to be her real dad as a kid.

21:30 - Damn. This episode is creepy.

21:45 - First clue that this is a dream - Malcolm says “we” but he’s alone.

21:57 - ...are Nuns allowed to paint their nails? #GenuineQuestion

22:14 - Not going to lie. This made me cry. I relate to Malcolm so damn much here. I’ve had a severe anxiety disorder for as long as I can remember (seriously I saw my first therapist - against my will - at the age of 4). I’ve also had chronic depression for almost as long. AND I’m a christian. I can’t tell you how many times other christians have told me to “cast my worries on the Lord” and “be free” of my pain. Or that I don’t really believe in God because I’m still suffering so visibly. The problem is - I don’t know if I want to be free. I’ve had these issues so long that I’m genuinely not sure who I’d be without them. It’s how I define myself. It affects every aspect of my personality. I feel like Malcolm might feel the same way - he doesn’t want to suffer anymore but he’s afraid of finding out who he is without the pain.

22:17 - Okay. So there’s Gil’s voice. So Gil+ Malcolm = “we”. As though I’m supposed to believe that Gil would split up with Malcolm when they’re looking for a nun, who isn’t even a suspect, at a church. Nah. I don’t buy it. This is clearly a dream.

22:30 - “You have to tell them what you did.”...and then we see the knife. Does this mean Malcolm is slowly convincing himself that he killed Endicott. Not Ainsley? Either way - I agree with nightmare-Ainsley. The team loves Malcolm but they’re also detectives. They’ll figure out what happened. And when they do - yikes.

22:46 - I hate this. All season suspects have been calling Malcolm evil. Martin has been calling Malcolm a “hero”. Malcolm’s guilt is eating him alive. Simultaneously, the people who are supposed to trust and care about him (Dani, Gil, the precinct, Jessica) have all shown signs of doubting him. Dani alone has pointed a gun at Malcolm’s head. Now she’s wearing body armour? AND LOOK AT THE OTHER COPS. THEY ALL HAVE THEIR HANDS ON THEIR GUNS AS THOUGH MALCOLM IS A CRIMINAL. A THREAT. DANGEROUS. This is very bad for Malcolm’s mental health......God, the whump-whore in me hopes he has a major panic attack or something this season.

23:23 - I love this scene. This is the papa!Gil content I’m here for.

23:51 - JT expressing fear and concern for his unborn child makes my heart grow several sizes. Look at his puppy dog eyes here? Ugh. So precious. This whole JT arc is heartbreaking and beautiful. I love it.

24:15 - Sooooo JT knows about Jessica right? He’s a detective and a husband. He so knows. hahaha this is so cute.

24:19 - Gil. You. Are. A. Liar......and you’ve been really grumpy this episode but I’m going to forgive you because I love you.

24:28 - GIL. You’ve waited 20 years. How much longer can you wait for Jessica?!?!

24:35 - Maybe JT didn’t know? At least - not until Gil rambled on about waiting? JT looks like he just connected all the dots and he’s super uncomfortable.

24:43 -...... so she verbally attacks him all episode then drives him home and acts like she did toward Malcolm by mid-season 1? I’m getting whiplash.

25:18 - This scene is so cute. They actually made the real life version of heart-eyes at each other. And Malcolm pours her a glass of water. Because 1) she’s driving and 2) she’s a recovering addict. He’s so casually respectful and I love it.

25:28 - “Are you any different?” Ouch. Look at how hurt Malcolm is. :( Although, props to Dani for confronting him about it. Someone needed to and she’s being really calm and caring about it.

26:10 - Dani’s little speech about being a black woman feels a little forced? Like the writers put it in so she doesn’t feel left out compared to JT? Idk, the whole thing just seemed not quite believable. Probably because when JT was racially profiled Dani - a black woman - pulled out her badge and all the white cops listened to her. It just doesn’t track. They wouldn’t have listened to her if they were racist and bold enough to attack JT in the first place.

26:47 - Anyone else think that all those lit candles are a fire hazard? Just me? Cool cool cool.

27:21 - Yo. This is stupid. I understand why this happened - because the plot needed it to happen. BUT WHY DID ALL THREE ARMED COPS LEAVE THREE UNARMED PEOPLE ALONE?!? And when does a team of 4 split into a group of 3 and 1??! It makes no logical sense (except for plot purposes).

28:03 - Creepy.

28:30 - Oh. HELL no. This is absolute bs. My entire heart is breaking for JT.

29:05 - I really like how chill this Priest is. Like - he respects that Malcolm’s a disbeliever and he’s willing to talk to him without trying to convert him.

29:55 - Listen to how upset JT sounds here!! :( :( :( My heart. :(

30:08 - Ok so how did she end up tied in the closet and not murdered?

30:40 - ....so did Jonah ruin that painting while Sister Agnes was in the closet or is the Sister just a moron who didn’t say anything about the guy ruining the painting?!?

30:50 - Sooooo Jonah is an “expert”. He taught Sister Agnes how to safely handle the lead-based paint. Yet - he didn’t use the protection? We saw him with a gas mask at the beginning of the episode? Did the sister not notice that he wasn’t using the protection? So much of this doesn’t track. Thankfully, I don’t watch this show for the “murder of the week” plot line.

31:30 - Malcolm is a good dude. Even now. He’s trying to help Jonah. <3 Heart of gold.

32:25 - Martin - shut. up.

32:45 - Friar Pete is a creepy treasure. I love him.

33:24 - “Oh you’ve gotta be kidding.” hahaha I feel you Malcolm. I feel you.

33:34 - Not gonna lie - when I watched this the first time all I could think is “How the eff does Malcolm remember everything Pete just said?” Maybe it’s just me but I would need Pete to go 1-2 words at a time. And slowly. ....maybe Malcolm took Latin in school?

24:06 - Oh so all the killers this season are also going to accuse Malcolm of being a killer and/or evil.

34:40 - Damn. I wish the team walked in right as Malcolm was screaming “the power of Christ compels you!!!”.

35:15 - I. Love. This. Gil screaming on the phone is everything. Him going to bat for JT is everything. Malcolm saying “This is bad”?!? *chef’s kiss*. ISTG Malcolm’s been scolded by Gil when Gil is that mad at some point during his teen years.

35:53 - “I’ll take care of it.” JT. Is. My. Hero. What an absolute king. He’s going to take care of it, even though he’s terrified, because he needs to protect his family. Not just Tally and the baby. But little sister Dani too. <3 My heart is full.

36:11 - ....okay so not to ruin a totally beautiful and profound scene but every time I’ve watched this scene JT doing that lean into the wall is very weird to me. Because he turns to face the camera. If he just slid down the wall or just leaned his head against the wall - it wouldn’t have felt so strange. It honestly distracts me from the scene. Every. Time.

36:18 - This is hot garbage. I don’t even want to rewatch this scene because it makes me so upset.

37:51 - I understand where Jessica is coming from but I also think she’s being a moron. I will say though, I respect the hell out of Gil for walking away when asked. A lot of men wouldn’t but he respects Jessica even if he doesn’t like what he’s hearing. So he left because she asked him to.

39:00 - If this isn’t a red flag for Jessica about Ainsley’s mental health idk what is.

39:25 - Poor Malcolm looks like he’s on the verge of tears here. :( I’m genuinely scared that Malcolm is becoming suicidal. He’s reaching the level of depressed and guilt where I think it’s a possibility. I genuinely think he’d rather kill himself to stop his guilt and suffering than to admit it to Gil, Jessica, JT, or Dani. ...for legal reasons he definitely can’t tell Gabrielle.

40:00 - Sooooo Martin is finally suggesting that it was his idea to dispose of the body. I hope it’s the truth.

40:05 - Martin is a piece of trash. He really needs to stop playing with Malcolm’s head. It’s literally killing Malcolm.

40:50 - Oh. SHIT. Malcolm just clapped back hard. I am so so proud of him. ...also concerned about this deep anger in him though.

41:46 - I swear - if we don’t get a Gil and Martin face-off when Martin breaks out, I will lose my mind. It’s one of the top things I want from this show. A Martin+Gil showdown.

Ok. So I kind of loved this episode? Even though there were...many plot holes and things that annoyed me about it. Is it just me or has this season felt much darker than last season so far? It makes sense given last season’s finale but it’s still thrown me a bit.

BUT I CAN NOT WAIT FOR 2x3. That promo. Ugh. <3 <3 We’re going to get traumatized teen!Malcolm content and I’m a sick bastard who is living for it.

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builder051 · 3 years

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Number three for the prompt list?

James has just taken his shirt off when the door to the apartment slams shut. The bedroom door rattles in its frame, and James gives it a leery glance.

“‘S probably Tasha,” says Steve from the bed. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his heart-print boxers. “That’s usually her calling card, isn’t if?”

“Yeah...” James finishes disrobing, then lets Steve talk him into the other pair of heart-print boxers left atop the dresser. James doesn’t quite see the point when all their clothes will wind up on the floor, but the whole day is meant to be an indulgence.

James’s mind is still floating when a second door slams, this one much closer. His hearing isn’t what it used to be before he went overseas, but he’s pretty sure he hears Tasha’s voice scream ‘fuck’ under her breath.

“She probably had a rough day,” Steve says decisively. He can tell James is concerned, but obviously doesn’t want him to be. “Wanna let her blow off some steam for a minute?”

“Sure...” James tears his eyes from the wall that divides the rooms and looks into his boyfriend’s eyes. Steve grins and lifts the bedcovers and gestures inside as if he were a chauffeur inviting James into the backseat of his car.

James obliges, and within a minute Steve’s breath is hot on his neck as his hands explore the front of James’s pants.

Then suddenly there’s a clatter, a small scream, and a sound like jellybeans bouncing off the hardwood floor in Tasha’s room.

“I’m sorry,” James mutters, turning away and offering Steve his hand instead. “I don’t know if she’s ok.”

“You owe me a do over.”

James grins. “Of course.”

He finds Steve’s t-shirt, which helpfully falls below his hips, and throws it over his head, then tiptoes out into the hall and knocks carefully on Tasha’s door.

“Hey, Tash? You alright?”

“Fine...” But Tasha’s voice sounds muffled and strange. James puts his ear to the door, and as he listens, he hears a shuffling sound, then ‘ow.’

“I’m gonna come in, just to check on you,” James announces before turning the knob.

Tasha’s lying on her stomach on the floor, a small pile of red pills swept up near her shoulder, and a few more in the valley between the baseboard and the paneled flooring, just out of her reach.

“What’cha doing?” James asks, noting the upturned white bottle on the rug beside her bed. “Did you lose some pills?”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Tasha says savagely. She’s slurring a bit, and James wonders what substance came before this. For something must’ve.

“Ok.” James drops to his knees and carefully catches the last few pesky pills. Then he goes to return the to their bottle, but Tasha takes his wrist.

“No, I want them.” She sits up enough to shakily take the water bottle off her bedside table and start gulping down capsules from their pile on the floor. Then she holds her hand out to James.

James sighs. As much as he hates to give in, three more won’t kill her. “Hm.” James bites his lip and closes his fist. “If I give you these, will you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“You know perfectly well what.” James smiles patiently. “What happened, and what did you take?”

“Fuck you, you know that?”

“Yeah, you and Steve are gonna have to confer...”

Tasha looks at him sideways, and James cracks a grin.

Once she’s finished glaring, Tasha digs in her pocket, coming up with a small metallic object. She roughly passes it to James, then crosses her arms over her chest.

“Ok...” James examines the item, which appears to be one half of a cheaply made best friends necklace. “Where’d you get it?”

“Fuckin’ Maria.”

“Well, that was sweet of her,” James says blandly.

“She’s my goddamn dealer,” Tasha blurts out. “Sometimes a fuckbuddy. Definitely not my best friend.”

“Maybe she was just being nice,” James says, hating himself for repeating the line the therapists and foster mothers used to tell them all the time.

“We were just gonna get drinks at Dave and Busters ‘cause she knows the server and we wouldn’t get ID’d,” Tasha tearfully explains. “But then she went and played ski ball, and won fucking tickets, and gave me that piece of shit.”

“See, she wasn’t thinking,” James says. “She was hammered, and she just wanted to tell you she kinda thinks you’re ok to be around.”

“Then why didn’t she just say it?” Tasha swallows the last of the pills in her mound and reaches for the ones in James’s hand.

“Because it does’t come out so nice when you do. It doesn’t seem so meaningful.”

“And that’s better?” Tasha inclines her head toward the necklace.

“She does’t know how many foster sisters you had to be fake friends with, does she?”

Tasha hiccups and shakes her head.

“Well, you could talk to her about it,” James suggests. “Or...” He already knows Tasha will take the alternative without even hearing what it is. He loosens his grip on the last few pills and holds them out. Tasha eagerly snatches the up and swallows them quickly.

“So, just out of curiosity,” James says, reaching up to cup Tasha’s pale cheek. “How many drinks before this...” he quickly calculates based on the approximate visuals. “Full bottle of pills?”

Tasha pauses. “Three?” she guesses. “Four?”

They both seem low estimates, seeing as she handles her liquor well for one so small, and that she’s shook up enough to talk to James without much prodding.

“Or five or six?” James translates.

Tasha shrugs. “I won’t puke.”

“Liar.:

“For a while, at least.”

“Right.” James takes the empty water bottle from Tasha’s hands and scoops her up round the waist. “Come on. You’re sleeping in the big bed tonight.”

“But... Steve...” Tasha drunkenly complains. “And your special night.”

“We’ll reschedule,” James says, leading her across the hall. Then, “Sorry, Stevie. We’ve got a guest. Please tell me you have clothes on.”

Steve looks like a ghost in the corner, yanking his head through the neck of James’s slightly too tight t shirt. “Yeah, I’m good,” he mutters.

“Ooh,” Tasha sighs as James lays her down in the center of the bed, then stretches out beside her.

“What, you seasick, or seeing stars?” James reaches for the trash bin under the nightstand, prepared either way.

“Pretty...”

“Ah, well, that’s nice.”

“Sure is,” Steve says grumpily from the pillow on Tasha’s other side.

“Hey, another day, another dollar,” James says. “We’ll try again once she’s well enough to sleep it off on her own.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.” James throws his arm across Tasha, hugging her to his side, then entwines his fingers with Steve’s. “Thanks for putting up with all this, you know.”

“Our little family is so weird,” Steve says quietly. “But I kind of love it.”

“I really love it,” James replies. “And I’m glad that you do.”

Tasha nuzzles the back of her head into the pillow as she looks back and forth between James and Steve. “And,” she coos. “I love you.”

#marvel #mcu #captain america #fanfic #fanfiction #chasing ghosts #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #hurt/comfort #sickfic #drug use #alcohol #angst #romance approaching smut #but no smut

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that-one-girl-behind-you · 4 years

Text

Illicio 10/?

Part 9

Bit of a content warning for the first section because Martin's Lonely thoughts are starting to feel a little like suicidal ideation, just in case.

"What part of 'don't antagonize Martin' translated into 'go and lie to his landlady to break into his house' to you?" Jon asks that evening. The bus is nearly empty, and Gerry's arm is a comforting weight across his shoulders, a nice contrast against the hard plastic seat.

"I knew he'd tattle," Gerry rolls his eyes. "Go figure, pull a guy out of the Lonely with a nice cup of tea and some good conversation, and the first thing he does is go tell on you with his crush.

Martin bundles himself a little tighter in his coat, as he waits for the kettle to boil. The worst thing about the Lonely is definitely the bone-deep chill that follows wherever you go, no matter how many layers you wear, or how high you crank up the heater. The cold is inside you, and Martin is starting to run out of ways to chase it out.

The kitchenette attached to Peter's office is smaller than the one at the Archives' break room, but also much better equipped; it has a high end coffeemaker and all sorts of coffee and tea sorted in delicately crafted tins. Martin has the thought that he would've been excited to try them all before, but now he just cracks the tin open and pulls out a bag at random. This is just... something else he's supposed to do, like eating, like breathing. It doesn't matter that they don't bring any satisfaction, because nothing really does anymore, when he's like this.

He goes to pour the hot water into a single mug, and drops the bag inside, watching it sink and bob with a curious sense of detachment. It smells like nothing, and it tastes like nothing when he takes a sip. His hands barely even register the warmth of the cup, and Martin places it back at the countertop. He'd expected it would make him feel something, but there goes that hope.

The only spark of emotion comes when he finally listens to the prickle of unease in his chest, and goes to close the small room's exit where it connects with Peter's office. Standing alone behind two locked doors, he almost feels at ease. Nobody can find him here- or they wouldn't, if anyone was looking for him of course. Jon hasn't come to him since the last time they met before the coffin, and Gerard seems to have a supernatural sense to know when Martin just finished an Extinction statement to come pester it out of him.

It's a bit pathetic, that Jon's- that Gerard is the only one who seeks him out, and even then it's only out of necessity. The Lonely likes it, and it likes even more that Martin doesn't feel any special way about it.

Outside, someone walks past the door to Peter's office, and Martin's stomach clenches. The room around him loses a little more color. Maybe… maybe he'll go home early today. Peter won't care; he would probably encourage it, now that Martin thinks about it. Just... it'll be easier there. More quiet. Calmer.

Martin leans his head back, and the room around him begins to dissolve.

--------------------------------------

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Gerry asks with a smile, and Melanie nods, entranced.

"We should find another," she declares. The Flesh book -aptly titled just 'Guts'- burns nicely in a metallic garbage bin between the two of them.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you." Gerry snorts. "I've been hearing some rumours about the Desolation. Some weird fires around the city; might be worth taking a look at."

Melanie squirts some more lighter fluid onto the book, delighting when the fire roars and flares up.

"How is it different?" she asks, the question popping suddenly into her mind.

"Sorry?" Gerry arches an eyebrow.

"I know the Desolation is destruction, and Slaughter is violence." It's odd, to talk so freely about the entity that would've claimed her soul; like mentioning someone you knew in passing, one of those who were impossibly important once, but now are just a memory you're not sure how you feel about. "But I wanted to destroy too, when I was- you know."

"I know." Gerry lets out a careful huff, running a hand through his hair. "They tend to bleed into each other, some more than others. Some care about the end result only, like the Desolation, some care about the process, like the Slaughter or the Hunt. Smirke had a good idea with the list, but sometimes I think he oversimplified."

"So what's your take on it?"

"Colors," Gerry shrugs, then adds with a small smile, "if colors hated you."

Melanie has no idea what that's supposed to mean, but his tone makes it fairly clear that it's got something to do with Jon, and she rolls her eyes. Ridiculous, but apparently something she'll have to get used to, considering the sneak peeks she's gotten through the Institute's windows in the past week.

"How's Georgie?" Gerry asks after a moment, once the flames have started dying down. "You've been going out more lately, right?"

"Yes. I'm-" Melanie feels her body tense, and takes a deep breath, until it relaxes again. This- she can tell Gerry this. It's not a big deal. They're- they might be friends, now. "She takes me to therapy. I've been feeling- I added an extra day. I feel like it's working."

Gerry gives her a quick look and a quicker smile, before focusing on the remnants of the burning book again. "That's good. I tried therapy once, but it turns out there is just no way to work 'my mother accidentally framed me for her gruesome murder and then came back to life and continued to stalk me until I handed her over to an old woman to be destroyed' into a credible lie. Not that you would know the difference, of course," he adds with a wink over his shoulder.

"I'll have you know my therapist doesn't suspect a thing, so I'm clearly not as bad of a liar as you think." Melanie rolls her eyes, smiling. There's a certain giddiness to her chest, a kind of light-heartedness she'd almost forgotten.

"Mmmm nah, you're very bad." Gerry reaches a hand towards her, and she passes him the bottle of lighter fluid. He squirts the rest of it in the trash can, unflinching when the flames roar up again, before he turns back to look at Melanie. "But I'm glad it's helping. I'm guessing the after-session dates with your girlfriend are nothing to scoff at either, are they?"

"They help," Melanie's smile turns a little smug. It may be sappy, but she's allowed a bit of happiness, thank you very much.

"I can imagine," Gerry rests his closed fist against her shoulder and gives her a little shove. Melanie kicks at his boot, rolling her eyes.

This is... comfortable. Life is far from perfect, and the number of things that make Melanie happy are still in the single digits but this- this might be one of them.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something..." Melanie starts after the fire has died down again and the relaxed silence has stretched for a few minutes, making her voice as casual as possible. "Remember when you told us that you fed on Jon's voice? Recharging a battery, kind of?"

"I... do?" Gerry looks down at her with an arched eyebrow.

"Okay. And remember that other time you told me there was nothing going on with Jon, but you let me believe that so I didn't find out you were leeching on him to survive?"

"Ah." Gerry averts his eyes, and the line of his shoulders stiffens. Melanie frowns, puzzled; it's been a while since she's had any friends to joke with, but this is most definitely not the mood she was trying to set up. "I didn't want any trouble, Melanie. You and Basira were very on board with killing me that first day because you thought I wasn't human, and I was just- well, I knew if you got actual confirmation of that, then-"

"Oh- oh no, that's not what I'm talking about," Melanie shakes her head, rolling her eyes. "I get why you did that. You were right, too, I would've killed you," she shrugs.

Gerry turns to look at her again, amused and confused in equal measure. "Okay? So what's this about then?"

"I just wanted to ask," Melanie struggles a little to keep her face blank now that she's put them back on track. "Do you also feed on holding hands with Jon, or is that just so he doesn't get lost into another entity when you're on your way from the bus stop?"

Gerry freezes when her words register in his mind, his face a carefully blank mask whose only emotion lies in the slight panic brewing behind his eyes.

"I-"

"Yes?" Melanie lifts her eyebrows, nodding along with pursed lips. The flush starting to darken his cheekbones is fascinating to watch, a much deeper hue than would correspond to his skin tone, probably on account of the ink that runs through his veins.

"Have you been- listen, we have- the fires." Gerry turns abruptly to start walking away from the smoldering can, and Melanie smirks. "We should look into it, could be a new avatar."

"Mhm. Alright. Just a little question I had, don't let it keep you up at night." Melanie follows, not even angry that she has to trot to keep up with him.

"I won't."

"Good, good."

--------------------------------------------

"You're far too early. Nothing to find today?" Jon looks up when the door to his office is pushed open, a smile already on his lips. Gerry shrugs, taking his jacket off. Jon's gaze trails over the burn-smooth skin of Gerry's arms, the tattooed eyes at his elbows seeming to almost look at him when Gerry's muscles contract and stretch as he moves to hang the jacket by Jon's coat.

"Hello there?" Gerry asks, and Jon's eyes snap up his face. He's got an amused smile and a raised eyebrow, and Jon whips his burning face back down to his statement. "Melanie's busy today, so I did some recon by myself, but there's nothing tangible asides from Rayner's freaks."

"This is- yes, alright." He's not terribly worried about the Church of the Divine Host, he thinks, his fist clenching tightly around the pen he's using to make annotations on the statement; they cannot come into his Archives, because they won't risk being Seen. It still irks him that they dare come this close to the Institute, like a taunt to-

"What are you working on?" Gerry's long, black hair curtains down by the side of Jon's face, and all thoughts of Seeing the Darkness into oblivion evaporate from his mind.

"I just- I'm going over old statements," Jon clears his throat. "I'm trying to find anything that feels like the Extinction."

"I see... Found anything yet?" Gerry leans closer to look at the paper on the desk, and Jon freezes at the warmth at his back.

"I don't-" this is where Jon admits he hasn't been able to focus for the past three hours, isn't it? "Martin left early yesterday. And he didn't come to work today."

"Ah," Gerry sighs, before retreating to go sit across the desk. His eyes are soft and sympathetic, because it's just Jon's luck to be surrounded by good, caring people that he doesn't deserve. "How did you-"

"I just Knew it. I think- I think it was too much today." Jon averts his gaze again; Gerry's gentle concern is too much to deal with, what with everything that's been tumbling around in his head. "Which is why I'm looking into this, but the Watcher doesn't seem to be too interested in the new competitor." Jon scowls down at his desk. No helpful tidbits from the Eye either when picking out statements to revisit, or when going over things he already knew.

"Hey." Gerry slides a warm, heavy hand on top of Jon's, and Jon, because he's a selfish coward, doesn't move away. "You're doing what you can. We all are, Martin too."

Jon nods slowly, after a moment. Martin is- Martin knows what he's doing. He's far from stupid or weak, Jon knows that now. Even though he's still human, Martin moves through this world of fears with a sense of cunning and determination that Jon couldn't even begin to emulate, despite being a key player himself.

"I must admit, I... it's nice that you have changed your mind about him." Gerry hasn't told him what brought on the change, but Jon finds that he doesn't care. It's just one less thing to be worried about.

Gerry shrugs, giving his hand a squeeze. "Turns out we have a few things in common."

"You do." Jon nods; that much has been clear to him for a while. A fatal flaw that bears his name and his face.

Gerry's gaze is heavy on him, far from the usual playfulness in their interactions, and Jon feels his heartbeat start racing.

"Jon, we-"

"Jon?" the door opens again, and Daisy pokes her head through. "Oh. Sorry."

"No, it's- do you need anything, Daisy?" Jon asks, extricating his hand from Gerry's in the softest movement he can manage.

"I can come back later," Daisy shrugs.

"Actually, let's trade." Gerry pushes off his chair, and onto his feet. "You stay here. I'll see you when it's time to go home." He doesn't seek Jon's eyes when he says this, moving instead to grab his jacket and shove his arms through the sleeves.

"Careful," Jon mutters quietly.

Gerry stops at the door, his shoulders dropping in what might be a sigh, and he turns to look at him over his shoulder, his eyes softening just the slightest amount. "...Yeah. Yeah, you too."

And he's gone.

Daisy comes in once the sound of Gerry's boots stomping against the Institute's polished floors fades from earshot. "That was very dramatic."

Jon crosses his arms over his chest. "No, it wasn't."

Daisy rolls her eyes. "You're making this too big of a deal, just like the monster thing."

"I- excuse me?" Jon's face goes slack in disbelief, but Daisy merely leans a hip against his desk, looking down at him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Poor, poor Jon, with these two men who lo-"

"Daisy! We don't- there's no-" Jon sputters, as it becomes increasingly clear he doesn't have anything to say, and just wanted to stop her from finishing the thought. "What did you need?"

Daisy shrugs. "Basira went to see Elias, and Melanie's out too."

"I see..." Jon sighs; the only reasons he's able to brave being alone are both the fact that recording statements keeps the walls from closing in, and the terrifying knowledge that Gerry would stay in the office just to keep him company if he asked. "Well I- it's good that you came. I need your opinion on something."

As soon as it becomes clear that she's wanted here, Daisy's entire body relaxes; Jon smiles to himself as she goes to take the seat Gerry left. Daisy deserves some kindness, she's just... another victim. He's the only one who chose this.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Did yo- have you seen Martin lately?" Jon reaches into a desk drawer for a tape recorder that wasn't there a minute ago. This one, he Knows, will contain Martin's recording on the Extinction.

"Not really. Where is he?" Daisy frowns.

Jon's eyes fall to the recorder in his hand. He doesn't know if he feels guiltier for Knowing about Martin, or for not going to him after what he found out.

"Taking a break from all of this, hopefully."

----------------------------------------

"-tin Blackwood? Yes, he lives here. We haven't seen him in a few weeks, though." The woman's eyes narrow in suspicion. "Did he die?"

Gerry snorts. God forbid landlords have any tact. He thinks back at one of the many things he learned about Martin while trying to Know the address to his flat.

"No, he's fine. But he had to go out of town for a while, because his mother passed away." He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to look solemn. "I'm going to go stay with him for a few days, but he wanted me to pick up his phone and some other things for him."

"I see... and who are you again?" The woman asks; the mistrust is a fair response, honestly, considering what Gerry's here to do.

"Well, you know..." he gives her a little smile and a non-committal gesture, pointing at himself and an imaginary Martin by his side. Whatever, it worked with Melanie and Basira, it'll fool a random landlady.

"Ah. Huh." The woman runs her eyes over him, evaluating him under the light of the new revelation; Gerry probably -hopefully- doesn't look anything like a self deprecating mop that specializes in giving off mixed signals and avoiding necessary conversations, but this woman clearly doesn't know Martin enough to know his tastes, because she just shrugs. "Then don't you have a key already?"

"Oh yes, I have one,' Gerry hurries to say. "He just wanted me to tell you that he's, you know, coming back and-" and here he crosses a leg over the other, bringing a knee up against the desk with enough force that the landlady's mug topples over the edge and spills its contents on her lap. "Oh shit, I'm sorry! Did you-"

"I'm alright," the woman says through gritted teeth, her skirt dripping lukewarm coffee on the carpeted floor when she climbs to her feet.

"I'm really sorry," Gerry apologizes again, but the woman is already heading towards the door without sparing him a glance. Good.

He Knows she keeps the spare keys in the bottom left drawer of the desk, and it only takes him a couple seconds lto find the one labeled with the number to Martin's flat, before unhooking it from the ring and pushing the drawer closed again.

By the time the woman comes back, patting at her damp lap with a towel, Gerry's already sitting back on his chair, sporting his best apprehensive look. "Did you need anything else?" she snaps.

"No, I'm just-"

"Sorry, yes. Thank you, could you leave?" the landlady's lips are pursed into a tense line. "I need to change."

"Yes! Sorry, I'll just-" he hops to his feet, crossing the office hurriedly. "Sorry!" Gerry apologises again before she closes the office door in his face, and he smiles. That's one less thing to worry about.

Martin's door opens easily enough with the key, and fog spills out like some sort of cheap haunted house trick. Not great, Gerry decides. The interior is freezing cold, and he bundles a bit tighter in his jacket, before closing the door behind him. There's a picture of a woman on a small table by the door, right behind the key bowl, and Gerry remembers the tape he listened to, with Elias' cruel, mocking voice and Martin's pained, choked back sobs.

It's a little selfish, but it's nice to know that Gerry's not the only one who can't bring himself to get rid of the memory of a mother who never loved him.

"Martin?" he calls out, bundling himself tighter in his clothes. "Are you-"

"What are you doing in my flat?!" Martin says by his side, where Gerry's pretty sure he wasn't a second ago. "How did you get in here?"

"It was open," Gerry shrugs. Martin looks... gray. His eyes, his hair, even his skin seems desaturated, blending in against the muted hues of his lightless flat.

"No it wasn't." Martin says firmly, and a bit of green starts seeping back into his eyes. Gerry lets out a relieved exhale. He's not too far gone, yet. "In fact, I made sure it was locked, because I've been being stalked lately."

"That sounds terrible," Gerry says, and because it seems like Martin is gaining more and more color the more exasperated he grows, he walks past him into what turns out to be the kitchen. "Want me to beat them up for you? I'll do it, just point me at 'em. Do you have coffee here? I'm not much for tea."

"I don't- why are you here?!" Martin sputters angrily, closing the cupboard doors Gerry purposefully leaves open as he moves down the room. "I'm not exactly going to record Extinction statements at home!"

"Well, I'm not here for that." Gerry gives him another look. He looks mostly solid now, enough that it might be a good time to let him know. "Jon was worried about you, so I came to check how you were."

"...Oh." Martin's flustered face goes slack at the news, and Gerry snorts. These two are the freaking same. "I- does he know?"

"That you're trying to save the world?" Gerry arches an eyebrow. "Or that you're doing it for him?" that has Martin's face regaining the color it was lacking.

"Both, I guess," Martin mutters, bringing a hand to rub at his arm nervously. "...I think I do have coffee, but it's- I don't drink it, I just had it for when Sasha- for when friends came over. I don't know if it's any good."

"I've probably had worse." Gerry knows what it's like to be alone. He's been that way for most of his life, but it's... he chose to live like that, it was never a burden for him. Here, as Martin talks of friends ripped from him by a world that feeds on despair, he feels a pang of sadness for this man who clearly didn't. "I have an hour before I have to go get Jon."

"Alright," Martin lets out a noise between a sigh and a groa, before he finally moves towards the cupboards again, and starts pulling out mugs and tins and spoons. "But you have to tell me how you got in."

"I'll let you guess," Gerry smirks as he sits at the breakfast table.

"How is he?" comes Martin's voice amidst the clinking of metal and porcelain. There's a careful quality to it, like he thinks he's not allowed to ask, and Gerry sighs.

"He's alright. Very defensive when we talk about his rib-related choices."

The sound of a mug dropped on the countertop, and Martin spins around. "Excuse me, his what?"

Gerry arches an eyebrow. "I hadn't told you? Could've sworn I mentioned it when we spoke about the marks." He wipes a hand under his nose, but it comes away ink-free. Edging around the topic is okay then, good to know.

"I don't- you didn't mention any ribs," Martin's voice is this close to a groan, Gerry notes with a smile. "What did he do now?"

"You better finish making that tea, you're going to need it."

--------------------------------------

The door to the cell slams shut, and Elias rolls his eyes. Frankly... he'd known Peter wasn't in the best of moods, but this is childish.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to either calm down or leave."

"How are you doing it?" Peter lands heavily on the chair across the table, blue eyes stormy with badly concealed rage and a muscle twitching on his jaw. Elias tries, he really does, but he can't hold back a snort. "Elias!"

"I'm sorry, sorry," Elias chuckles. "It's just amusing, really, that you seem to think I have the power to stop your puppeteering from in here. You mistake me for the Web's own, Peter."

He gives him the smile he knows Peter despises, just the slightest curve to his lips, and a single arched eyebrow.

"Don't play coy with me, Elias. Martin was progressing incredibly well, and all of a sudden he's stuck? Don't pretend you had nothing to do with it."

"Oh, but I didn't!" Elias reaches over to pull out the scotch bottle and the two tumblers, and Peter's hand closes around his wrist with bruising strength. "I'm afraid I did warn you the Watcher wouldn't let its own go so easily."

"How?" Peter's eyes narrow as his grip tightens even more. "I will not ask again, Elias."

Elias laughs, amused. Peter is awfully easy to rile up- if you know how to play him, and Elias has had decades to learn.

"Tell me something Peter... what do you know of Gertrude's last ill-fated assistant?"

--------------------------------------------

There's a person standing across the street from the Institute. They're wearing dark clothes, and over their chest rests a pendant fashioned to look like a closed eye. It's a ridiculous notion, to come to the tower of the Ceaseless Watcher, and believe their god will protect them here.

Jon comes to a stop before the Institute's doors, the taste of Markus Burnett's encounter with the End still fresh in his mind, and considers crossing the street towards them. It would certainly send a message to the rest of-

"Jon?" the voice is puzzled and soft, and it feels like a curtain is lifted from Jon's mind, as he sees the person scurry away; he turns to find Martin looking down at him in concern. "Are you alright? Oh- your... your eyes."

"Ah- yes I just- it's-" Jon gestures vaguely towards the spot where his would-be victim was just standing.

"Oh. That's- that's not good, is it?" Martin frowns. "It's probably good you didn't-"

"I wasn't going to. Or- I hope I wasn't," Jon scowls as well. He definitely wanted to. He can still feel Martin's eyes on him, but for all that he's fantasized about this encounter, he can't think of anything to say. "You look better."

"I guess." Martin's frown melts into a mask of dry resignation. "Gerard broke into my flat two days ago. He won't tell me how he did it."

Of course, the Eye chooses that moment to let him Know exactly how Gerry got a key to Martin's flat, and Jon feels his face grow warm. It's a bit of a whiplash mood, to go from preparing to Behold a person to thinking about- yes, okay.

"I- yes. He does that," Jon clears his throat, "keep him away from your sofa."

"I'll keep that in mind. Just-" Martin gives a nervous look around, and Jon frowns.

"He's not around." Jon says, the static rising in his ears as he Sees both what Martin wants, and the answer to it. It still feels odd to use his powers willingly, but he'll do it for Martin anytime. "He's on his way back from meeting Elias."

"Oh- okay?" Martin blinks. "Thanks. I- he can't do that, Jon."

"Peter-?"

"Gerard." Martin's face grows pained, serious. "Peter is- he's happy I'm going along with his plan. If Gerard keeps trying to meddle in... I made a deal, and I have to keep it. Please tell him to leave me alone."

"Martin, you don't have to-"

"But I am," Martin sighs. "You said you'd respect that."

And he does, he really does respect the sacrifice Martin is making, but- but watching him hurt himself is just too much. This is the first time Martin has looked like himself in months, and Jon is suddenly confronted with just how much he's missed him.

"I'll talk to him." Jon says, before anything else can get out. "I'm- I'm sorry, Martin."

Martin nods wordlessly, before turning back to walk into the Institute. Jon watches him go, a million things he should've said running across his mind now that they're utterly, completely useless.

I dreamt of you in the Buried. Thank you for the tapes. You don't have to be strong all the time, please let me help you. I miss you so much it scares me, but it's a kind of fear I want to feel, the kind of fear I'd dedicate my life to.

None of it matters, because by the time Jon walks in after him, all that's left of Martin are a couple wisps of fog.

----------------------------------------------

"I knew he'd tattle," Gerry rolls his eyes. "Go figure, pull a guy out of the Lonely with a nice cup of tea and some good conversation, and the first thing he does is go tell on you with his crush. You didn't tell him I had the key, did you? I don't want him to change the locks."

"I did not." Jon rolls his eyes. "But you can't- Gerry, I promised I'd leave him alone."

"And you did. Very respectful of his boundaries."

"And you should do so too. We're- we agreed we'd investigate about the Extinction so he didn't have to do everything on his own, not that we'd intrude on his plan."

"It's not a great plan, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask." Jon slaps lightly at Gerry's thigh with the back of his hand. "Listen, I trust Martin-"

"And I trust him too, sure. But I'm not going to- I can't just leave it alone, Jon." Gerry turns to look at him, and Jon -as he often does- finds himself distracted by the lights of the street outside gleaming off the metallic rings and beads on his face. "I'm not going to let them win. Not if I can help it, especially with someone they seem as hell-bent on getting as Martin."

Jon sighs. Of course he won't; Gerry's far too stubborn, far too-

"Just- Martin knows what he's doing."

"And I know what I'm doing too." Gerry shrugs, his shoulders set and his brow furrowed. "I'm not- I can't exactly stop him from aligning with the Lonely if that's what he wants. I'm just slowing it down. Getting us more time."

"And what happens when Peter Lukas finds out you're breaking into his flat to sit him down for tea?"

"Well, he doesn't have to find out," Gerry says, smirking. The gesture leaves the ring on his lower lip just the slightest bit off-center, Jon realizes. He runs his tongue over his own bottom lip, that feels too dry all of a sudde. "As far as anyone knows, it was just a very considerate man looking out for his partner."

"You can't possibly believe that was anywhere close to a good lie," Jon hisses, trying his best to ignore the fact that he doesn't know if he's annoyed or just embarrassed by the ruse.

"It's not unbelievable. Anyone could be my boyfriend," Gerry shrugs. "Martin could have good taste."

"I very much think he doesn't." Jon grumbles.

"I think he does, actually," Gerry's arm gives his shoulders a squeeze that has Jon's face burning, "besides, the position is open."

Jon coughs. "This is our stop," he says, ignoring the way Gerry rolls his eyes before climbing to his feet.

The conversation is pretty much over after that, but Jon finds -as he usually does, lately- that he has to let go of Gerry's hand to pull the keys out of his pocket.

--------------------------------------------

"Did you do your exercises today?"

Daisy exhales slowly, her hands on her stomach and her gaze nailed to the ceiling. The cot she shares with Basira feels small at the best of times, but now under her too-heavy stare, it's like laying on a coffin, waiting for the lid to be slammed down again.

"They won't work."

"What?" Basira doesn't come closer, doesn't sit by the edge of the cot, and Daisy feels more and more like a disgusting, wasted carcass of her old self.

"The exercises. I- it's not going to work." The truth of her words weighs on her, the call of her blood begging her to follow, to lose herself again. "The only way I'm going to get better is if I hunt again, and I don't- I'm not doing that."

In the long silence that follows, Daisy darts a quick look at Basira. She's standing by the door, her white-knuckled hand shaking around the crumpled edge of a bag of Daisy's favorite takeout.

"There has to be another way," she says in the end. "What are we supposed to do, just wait for you to die?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask Elias?" Daisy shrugs. There's a dark pang of delight in her stomach when Basira stiffens, and she sighs. Not exactly a chase, but the Hunt will feed wherever it can. "I'm sorry."

"Do you think I haven't?" Basira's voice is tense and hurt. "Do you think I haven't spent every waking moment since you came out trying to find a way to make you-"

"Back to how I was?" Daisy says quietly, and the way it's enough to stop Basira's rising tirade really says a lot.

"That is not what I want," Basira forces through gritted teeth.

"But it's what you need, isn't it?" After a moment's hesitation, Daisy pushes up into a sitting position, and turns to face Basira. "You were there when I needed you, and now I can't do that for you."

"This is not- I don't keep a tally, Daisy." Basira finally takes a firm step forward and then another and another, until she's standing so close Daisy could reach her if she stretched her arm. She doesn't. "I don't have- I'm just trying to keep everyone from dying, or-"

Basira's voice breaks, and Daisy flinches, eyes wide. In their years working together, she can count on one hand the times she's seen her lose control.

"You were gone," she snaps, "you were dead, I mourned you. I had to- there was no one else. Everyone was dead, Melanie was more and more unstable, and Martin was doing his secretive bullshit. What was I supposed to do? I was the only one. If I gave up, then it was like letting Elias win, and I was not going to let that happen."

"Basira-"

"Of course I wanted you back. As soon as that lying worm told me there might be a way to pull you out, I-"

"I heard your voice in the Buried."

Basira freezes. She looks- Daisy has been her partner for years, and the thing with her is, Basira always knows what to do. Even when she doesn't, she knows what should be done next. Never a second guess or a moment of doubt, or anything less than cold, hard certainty. Now Basira looks lost, and Daisy can only wonder what that means for her, who's always depended on Basira's solidity to ground herself.

"I'm- I want to be here for you. I want to help, Basira, but I can't- I don't want to go back to the Hunt. Or rather, I want it too much, and I know I won't-" Daisy groans. She's never been good with words, one would think spending an eternity with the Archivist would've helped, but apparently it's too much to wish for. "I just want to be myself, for however long I can. I'm- sorry it's not what you-"

Basira crashes against her, and Daisy feels her breath leave her all at once, as they topple over onto the cot, the crumpled falafel bag landing on the floor to be forgotten.

"I'll figure something out," Basira's breath is hot against her shoulder. Daisy can smell her coconut shampoo through her headscarf, and it's all she can do to hold her tighter, because they live in a world in which these moments are fleeting and fragile, and all the more precious for it. "For this. For you."

Daisy nods furiously, her eyes shut tight and her blood singing an entirely different song.

"Basira," she says, the only word she knows, the only word that matters.

Basira nods like she understands, and Daisy can't bring herself to care about anything else.

#jongerrymartin #vit writes #illicio

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drethanramslay · 4 years

Note

14 Bryce x mc please🥰

Thanks for the ask anon :)

You can find the prompt list here

#14- Are you okay?

Word count: 1.1 K words

Warning: Mention of gaslighting, emotional abuse, suicide and self harm

Author’s note: So um.. I was not having the best of days and when I saw this prompt, the flood broke XD

This is written in first person i.e my mc, Aliya Acharya’s POV

please forgive me if I make any mistakes.

Are You Okay?

I walked down the hallways in a daze. People usually say that I'm a cheery and funny person to hang out with me and that's the truth.

But, a phone call from my parents wipes the slate and leaves me... Empty.

At 28, I thought I would have gotten over the hell they put me through, and that I could just flip them off and carry on but that does not happen. I just can't bring myself to do that.

So I continue walking, with no direction, hoping that the numbness in my chest leaves me.

Someone must have called out to me, but it felt like my head was under water. I might be here physically but my mind was empty, all emotions down the drain. Just a walking drone.

A hand touched my shoulder and forced me to turn towards him.

"Angel! I have been calling you for the last minute." Bryce spoke.

Gulping, I forced a smile on my face. "Sorry, I was busy thinking about the case."

Bryce's eyes scrutinized my face, and I couldn't get my self to meet his eyes.

"No, something is wrong... Are you okay?"

Are you okay?

What a funny question. I mean whenever someone (probably like 2 people) asks me this, I can't help but throw my head back and laugh which usually brings weird looks from them, which eventually leads them to not talk to me for the next decade.

It's not sarcasm. I genuinely find it hilarious.

Because when someone asks me that question, the shitty and fucky reality of my life slams into me like a train wreck.

My life indeed is a series of unfortunate events occurring one after the other and at this point I have accepted it that I was born to suffer.

I'm not trying to pull the "woe is me card". Nah, not into the sympathy kink. It's a universal fact that me, Aliya Acharya is cursed.

I never really talk about it though because when I once tried, my friends, peers, nobody believed me that my parents are actually so toxic that Britney Spears could be jealous.

Why would they anyway? They have met my parents, who are respected people and are held at a pedestal. My dad is an entrepreneur of a large company with a turn over so huge, you would be shocked. And my mother is literally an angel and has her own NGO where she teaches the poor kids of Mumbai basic education. She is a healer and a councellor.

So. why would anyone believe me when I say that they abuse me emotionally?

I tried talking about these things when I was 18 to my therapist, trying to get some guidance, some help. But, that completely backfired on me because she was close friends with my parents.

Just ignore it... Wow what a solid advice.

So yeah, I have given up after that. I used to write my suffering in a diary but after sometime, that also didn't help.

I was numb to everything.

Wake up. Eat. Study. Sleep. Repeat.

I had no social life because well, I have my parents to blame for that. Since a very young age they raised me to be super competitive and that everyone I met, wants me to fail. They would put heavy restrictions on who I interacted with till the late teens.

And it didn't help that I was bullied throughout highschool.

So hello anxiety, depression and self esteem issues.

Being depressed has become a second nature for me. Even though it's been five years since I moved out, I still slip into bouts of depression. No amount of therapy or medication can fix the damage they did to me.

They gaslighted me like the fourth of July. Everyday there was this fix menu of insults which they flung my way, like daggers.

-> you are a disappointment. -> you are abusive -> I have given birth to a monster (that's my mom's favourite line) -> you deserve to die/ you shouldn't have been born( this was said like four times but it counts!)

And the funny thing is if anyone else were to say this to me, anyone other than my family, they would be on the ground with a broken nose.

I mean, why would your own family say such things to you, right?

So I have never spoken about this. I want to move on so bad, but the scars on my legs and my heart are a painful reminder.

I can't even say I'm a survivor because I still suffer. Even though I'm thousands of miles away from them, they always call to tell me 'how I have distanced myself from them' and how 'they don't deserve to be cut off from their daughter's life'.

That really sends me off. It pisses me so much that they are so proud and blinded by this false sense of superiority that they can't see how words hurt. I want to shout at them and tell them how I have a record of how many times I wanted to take my life because of them.

But I don't.

Because they will end up saying I'm hypersensitive and a habitual liar.

I mean what is even the point?

So yeah... I built up a fortress, brick by brick, making my walls high so that absolutely no one can come in.

No one can hurt me.

No one can have that insane power over me.

And no one can see the ugly scars.

But as I stare at those honey brown eyes, with flecks if gold, I find my resolve crumbling. I find myself stumbling.

After the entire ordeal of bullying and gaslighting, I became a very good judge of character... And for the first time in a very long time, I actually see genuine concern.

That someone actually wants my wellbeing. That someone actually gives a damn about me.

And that's scary.

Every time I edge towards opening up, my conscience drags me back, saying that 'This is all a foil to hurt me.'

But... I don't feel the kind of security anywhere but in Bryce's arms. I never feel the reassurance from anywhere but from Bryce. He had been supportive, caring and the affection he shows me is slowly filling up the void my parents left in me.

"Aliya, you know that I'm there for you right?" He said as he placed his hand on my shoulder, pulling me out if my reverie.

And that did it.

That gave me the push to take the leap.

The leap of faith.

Faith that he will catch me when I'm falling apart and he will catch me when I am falling for him.

I took a sharp inhale, and looked up at him, tears welling up in my eyes. That one word, which I had struggled to say all my life, slipped off my tongue like butter.

"No.... I'm not okay."

This was word vomit at its finest.

I might end up deleting it

Bryce X MC: @loveellamae @lilyvalentine @sanchita012 @zeniamiii @lucy-268 @raleigheffingcarrera @have-aheart @utterlyinevitable @rookie-ramsey

Permanent Tag list: @trappedinfandoms @oofchoices @agent-breakdance @dailydoseofchoices @tyrilstouch @siaramsey @theeccentricbibliophile @ac27dj @ramseysno1rookie @justanotherrookie @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @checkurwindow @chasingrobbie @junggoku @bellcat2010 @choicesstan1 @mvalentine @crazynutella @hatescapsicum

#anushka writes #writing prompts #oh bryce #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #open heart bryce #open heart #open heart mc #open heart 2 #choices #choices oh #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #pixelberry

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years

Text

You guys know me too well at this point.

I did one of these for Cal, and I don't really make solo posts on Maven.

These are some headcanons about Maven's headcanon pets, a doberman and black cat.

This is just my personal AU where Maven lives and everyone's happy, because I miss when Maven was a good brother and person 😭😢😭😢😭

Anyway, HERE ARE THE HEADCANONS!!!!

Elara was against the idea of Maven having any kind of animal because it would distract him.

Even after her death, he was unsure of getting a pet.

Pre-Pet AU turn for the better where Maven, instead of fighting Mare to the death, pushes her and runs away. She follows him to see he has collapsed and is having something of a mental/emotional breakdown. He is on the floor screaming and holding his head. He passes out.

Cal finds them both and Mare helps him carry Maven to a cell, one not made of silent stone, and with no candles or anything that can make a spark.

After some time, and some therapy, let's be real here, Maven gets his own place to live, even thoguh he spends some nights with Cal. And his doggo Sweetie. And Fink the Cat.

He's confused as to WHEN and, honestly, why Cal got these two, but understands the latter when he sees his brother lit up and relax when Fink climbs onto his shoulders, something he has not seen in a very long time. Cal still admits it was Julian's idea.

Maven thinks on it while Sweetie gives him some love; "Mah hooman is in TWO!? YAAAS!!!"

Once he's in his own place and settled, hating the silence and solitude, he makes a pro-con list, talks to the person who's been keeping an eye on him, on a guard, but something of a parol officer and therapist, and has a really bad nightmare before he decides to adopt a dog, but he's not getting anything fluffy and soft like Sweetie because she's not the best guard dog.

The person keeping an eye on him tells him that this is a great idea because giving love to something, like a dog or cat, might help him. I know I'm being too fanfic-y here, but I want good boy Maven back, okay?😭😢

He gets his companion on his way to the shelter, i.e. a stray on the side of the road, a black doberman with one bleeding cropped ear and one floppy, normal ear.

This is the text conversation when Maven arrived home:

"I got a dog."

"That was quick. How'd everything go?"

"Fine? I found him on the side of the road. I don't think he likes me."

"What breed is he? Send a picture."

(Maven sends a picture of this doberman as it is curled up in the corner of his bedroom and growling at him.) "He literally hates me. What do I do?"

"Leave him alone for a little bit. I think he's might be one one those fighting dogs."

"I thought those were illegal." He almost sends, "I thought Father made that illegal," but doesn't and sends what I just typed.

"They are. I guess people still keep doing it."

"Blood money. Anyway, what should I do?"

"I don't know. I think one of the generals said it's better to make yourself smaller so the dog doesn't think you're dangerous or something like that, the Animos on the front. Try that."

"Alright."

Maven decides to sleep on the couch that night, because he doesn't want to get mauled, and leaves some food and water out because the doberman hasn't left his room since bringing him home. He wakes up late in the night in time to see this dog grab a little bit of food and then sort of check on the person that picked him up. He growls a little bit, when he sees Maven is awake, but is calmer when he smells and inspects him. Maven tries to pet the uninjured half of his head, but the doberman backs away; "We're not there yet."

Maven wakes up this morning to see the dog across the floor from him.

Three weeks later, the doberman, which Maven has named Dagger, Phantom, or Ghost, I'm going to call him Dagger for now because of how sharp he is, has started whimpering and shaking his head. Maven can't really go to a vet because they'll think he abused the dog, so he's left to his own devices

GORE TW! DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE: Remember that bleeding, cropped ear I mentioned? It's infested with mango worms. And, unless he wants to be listed as an abuser towards his new pet and be labeled a lost cause, Maven cannot go to a vet. Everyone knows he is an amazing liar.

He texts Cal, tells the person he's been talking to, and even tells Mare, asking what he should do before Cal says to wait for him and the person he's been talking to sends him instructions on how to remove these worms.

Go time. Maven gets some treats in his hands and lures Dagger to him until he's close enough for Maven to check his ear.

Cal is very careful to be quiet when he arrives and has a moment of "That's my boy" when he sees Maven petting and assuring Dagger that he's okay.

The two get to work, Cal holding Dagger as Maven gets the worms out; don't worry, they gave him some Melatonin to calm him down first.

GORE'S OVER! It takes a little while, and they have a few close calls when Dagger panics at being held down, but Maven gets all the worms out, cleans the infected ear, and wraps it up, Cal helping by holding Dagger and wrapping the ear.

When all this said and done, Dagger barks and snarls at Cal, growls at Maven, and runs back into Maven's bedroom.

I'm pretty sure I do not need to spell out what this dog went through anymore than I just did.

After Cal leaves and Maven cleans up(His house, his rules), he gives his progress to his doctor, not an actual nurse/surgeon doctor, but you know what I mean, "the person he's been talking to" is getting tedious, and mentions Dagger's reaction when they're done, thinking he might have some trauma. His doctor sees his point and assures him to be patient and thoughtful before musing that he and Dagger are very much alike.

This is a video Maven sent to Cal later that day:

(Like with the video of Sweetie, we take perspective of the phone camera as Dagger creeps into the hall connecting to the living room.)

"... Can I help you? Is your ear better now?"

(Dagger only stares at Maven, not growling and we and Maven cannot see if Dagger's tail is wagging or not.)

"(To Cal) He's been, sort of... watching me for a little bit. ...I'm so bored😐."

(Dagger stretches out of the hall and lies down, doing a doberman sploot.)

"(To Dagger)Hi."

(Dagger blinks at him)

"... Am I your favorite show? (More to himself, honestly, and a little quieter) ... Why do cats even watch the laundry?"

TIME JUMP

(Dagger has now rolled onto his back, smiling, and is staring at Maven, who is laughing his ass off for the first time in forever, and struggling to hold the phone up so Cal is going to be able to see.)

"I don't know what he's- (Laughter) Are you okay over there!?😂"

(Dagger sneezes, stands up, and shakes himself off before sitting down life nothing happened.)

"(More laughing) I CAN'T BREATHE! BMY COLORS!!!😂😂"

ANOTHER TIME JUMP!!!

(Maven holds his hand out, palm open and relaxed, as Dagger is creeping up to him. His ears are back ams eyes are wide as he smells and licks his hand. Dagger sits and Maven carefully scratches his head.) "Good boy. You're a good boy."

After this moment, Dagger's more active in inspecting and opening up to Maven, who is using his phone to record each instance to show Cal and his doctor. It's a little step more almost every time, pets on the head and body, a kiss on the face, sitting next to Maven on the couch, laying next to him in bed, and even having conversations.

I don't know what he'd do as a job, but once he's stable enough financially, he gets a proper video camera and computer to make the videos more presentable.

He later comes to realize he's better talking to the camera in the same way Cal writes in his journal. He is required to show these videos to his doctor, who tells him whatever he says is privileged information that is only shared between the two of them.

He also talks to his doctor through video calls/face time and most of those talks are interrupted when Dagger stares at Maven and barks for pets.

This is a conversation when one such event happened(I am not a psychologist and I saw a therapist sparingly, so if anything's not right, I'm so sorry):

"And how are you sleeping? Do you feel rested?"

"I'm pretty sure. It's a little worse when it storms, but overall I'm fine."

"Good. Still no dreams?"

Maven shakes his head. "My mother was really thorough."

As if sensing his uneasy, Dagger climbs onto the couch(he hasn't mastered jumping up yet) and rests his head on Maven's shoulder.

"Is that the dog you adopted?"

Maven nods and pets Dagger a little bit before returning to his conversation. "Yeah. I think he's getting better since I found him."

"It looks like he trusts you now."

"Thank goodne-"

Maven yelps and his doctor jumps when Dagger barks.

"Sorry!" Maven panics as his doctor fights a smile, not to be rude, but because this is cute. "I've been trying to teach him to use his paw to tell me 'more.'"

"While that is a bit much, that means he loves you and wants to leep feeling you. Touch is a strong sign of affection, especially for animals."

Now, Maven doesn't dream. Instead, he wakes up when he hears yelling and screaming in his head, primarily from Elara. Dagger is great at waking him up. Where Sweetie kisses Cal awake, Dagger... does the same, honestly. When that doesn't work, he cries and burrows himself into Maven's side to wake him up. The younger Calore brother goes back to sleep with Dagger in his arms. HE WILL NOT GO BACK TO SLEEP UNLESS DAGGER IS WITH HIM.

On his bad days, Maven will curl up and cover his ears, because it's loud in his head, and Dagger will either find a toy, maybe a tug of war rope, and make him play with him or force his way into Maven's arms and start panting from the heat. It helps distract Maven from the voices in his head.

Dagger hates the the rain. The first time he heard it, he barked and had HUGE anxiety fit. Maven had to help him through that, which meant MANY sleepless nights. It was worth it when Dagger fell asleep on the couch next to Maven while it was raining.

I know I've been talking about good boy Maven's good dog, all the same I think it's time we talk about the cat😊

Maven was napping with Dagger when he got a text from Mare that she found a kitten in the alley near where she lived. For context, this was a SMALL kitten, as in it fit in Mare's palms with no excess showing.

Yeah. That cat was his. And he thanked Mare so much that she told him. (Don't worry, they've been having a healthier relationship since the events of the war, however awkward).

Yes, he recorded bringing the kitten home and was so scared she'd end up dead in the morning because of how weak she was.

She was fine in the morning, just a little noisy because she missed him. He had to talk to his doctor while checking on her, and it wasn't easy when he had a kitten trying to climb up his shirt and on his shoulders.

Dagger KNOWS there's something behind the bathroom door, and he looks between Maven and said door to let him know; "Hooman. Dat door was unclosed before. Now it's closed and doing a noise. What behind da door?"

He was so scared to introduce the pets because Dagger is HUGE compared to her.

You know the comic Pixie and Brutus? Violet-the cat-and Dagger ARE Pixie and Brutus.

Maven thinks it's too cute when Dagger carries Violet by her scruff.

He was not happy when he learned she was a dwarf; Don't ask how, when, or how long ot took him to be allowed to see a vet and not look like he was falling back into bad habits.

Now, I know what you're thinking, "This is great, but didn't you talk about events such as a pandemic happening with our characters with pets? What does Maven DO with these two?" To which I say, This:

He talks to his doctor, records videos, and lives with his cat and dog.

He joined the group in a workout session, and there was one thing alone that gave everyone the proof they needed that he was growing and healing: While struggling to do push ups, Violet got close to his phone and knocked it over and Dagger stole it and ran around with it. These were their reactions when they saw his smile as he called Dagger and Violet silly and brats in the warmest and most loving way: Cal almost cried, Mare smiled, Kilorn's and Shade's jaws dropped, and Farley muted herself so she could tell a few of her men to listen better to Cal and Mare and the doctor looking after Maven, and to not worry about him, at least until she gives the word that they should.

Maven did upper body workouts with Dagger, who was so confused as to what was happening because Maven was holding him in a way that kept Dagger calm and was going up and down rather than down the hall. He whimpered, pawed, and barked to be carried again.

If Violet sees Maven having a bad time sleeping, she'll lay on his head and purr to calm him down. Works every time.

Dagger and Maven share a common interest: taking baths. Dagger is washed once every other week and has the biggest smile ever. Maven bathes at least once a month and Dagger comes into the bathroom to try and join him. Violet hates baths, both because she hates water and because she cries for Maven, or cries for Dagger, or anyone else, to help Maven.

Both animals are very smart and have puzzles to do.

Dagger is a sassy boy.

Dagger is also a really good guard dog, and Maven used to knock on his own door just to enter his home.

After having both Dagger and Violet, Maven has heard Elara's whispers less and less. Her voice isn't gone for good, but thanks to the support from Cal and having Dagger and Violet, the whispers are really manageable.

Sorry again if this is SUPER fanfic-y, like I said I want some serotonin and it's Maven's turn for some happiness!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this post!!!

#red queen #maven calore #cal calore #mare barrow #pets #possible angst #possibly funny #mental health #gore tw #trauma tw #implied abuse tw

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 4 years

Text

Plague Rat Chapter 3

Three months later…

“Hello and welcome to Channel Eight! I’m Erica, bringing you the news!”

“Today we are speaking of what is now called ‘the Plague of Truth’, brought upon us by the Akuma Plague Rat.

Due to the Akuma’s powers of infecting people with a deadly virus resembling the Black Plague but targeting liars, many secrets came about. And many consequences have occurred. The most high profile ones are the former mayor, his wife and a dozen city officials who are now closing ranks and trying to-“ Marinette turned off the TV and closed her eyes.

After she had been purified, the girl had been horrified at her actions, feeling ill and disgusted. She had done that? She had attacked people? She had nearly…

Luckily there was a therapist employed by the hospital that sat with her and spoke with her. He was open and honest and she had a lot off issues she usually kept locked up.

He helped her speak of them and confront them. Helped her understand her issues. Helped her realize how many were people putting things on her and expecting things if her when they shouldn’t.

She still didn’t feel okay. Knowing what she did made her feel sick, but her classmates where there. Alix spoke with her softly, the girl knowing she had killed one. Kim spoke of rewatching his actions and feeling horrified. Rose shuddered at what she had done.

It helped.

More so, honestly, it helped knowing that her actions had exposed Lila and a lot of corruption. Not only had she hit the mayor, she’d hit the commissioner, Audrey, Nadja and a bunch of others.

Andre had been removed from office and was now facing trial for his crimes. The commissioner had been removed from office along with Roger being fired and were also facing charges. Rumors said they would probably get ten years at least.

Audrey was going away for child abuse, corruption and the abuse of her staff. She had admitted everything and Chloe had been removed from their care in a second, being placed with an aunt on the other side of Paris who hadn’t spoken to her sister in years and had never cared to. The aunt had agreed to take Chloe in but had warned the girl she would not put up with any of her actions.

Marinette hadn’t heard anything since as Chloe had been expelled by the new principal that had replaced Damocles when the fact he was being bribed came out. Bustier had also been replaced. Marinette wasn’t sad to see them go- even if it was only recently she could go back to school after the shock to her system becoming an Akuma had been. It wrecked her metabolism again and she’d been stuck in a bed for months.

Luckily, there was a friendly nurse around who was happy to take over for Akumas. Marinette has the best time hearing her rant about magic and how stupid it was she couldn’t tell who Ladybug was when she was in the hosptial. Often right in front of her door.

Tikki found it hilarious to.

But she had finally left the hospital and Tikki said she could go back to fighting, something she was glad about. She missed it, not that she’d admit it.

But before that, there was a trial to be had.

-0-

“So you willingly did it-“

“I did.” Alya interrupted the lawyer. “I willingly exposed her to sick children but that was at the urging of Lila who said she had to be lying. I believe the videos I’ve given show that.” Alya felt like a bug as everyone in the courtroom stared at her. She kept her chin up though. She would not be cowed by this lawyer Lila’s father got her. Apparently Lila’s nasty habits came from someone and that was her father. Her mother had been furious to know she was in contact with him and was not pleased by the lawyer but agreed to it.

She didn’t want her baby in jail either.

He was a good lawyer, knew how to come at things from all angles.

But Alya had been Rena Rouge. The Fox Miraculous left marks deep in her soul, which made her slippery and sly. She had forgotten and gotten caught in lies herself, but she remembered now.

And she would not yield.

“I wonder, if anyone actually knows that the reason she wants Marinette dead is because she called her out on her lies in college.” Snapped Alya, suddenly latching onto the thought. The lawyer blinked. “Didn’t know that? Lila is just angry that Marinette didn’t follow her around. That Marinette called her out.” The lawyer actually stepped back and turned to look at Lila who couldn’t hide her furious face fast enough. Alya smiled at her while the lawyer said he had to dismiss himself from the case now, his clients had been lying to him.

Alya hadn’t been a good person for a while. She had followed a liar and had blinded herself to truth for a long time. But she had once been a hero, once been a good person.

She was going to start again.

-0-

“So you thought it was like tabloids?” Dr. Shaw asked Adrien who sighed.

“Yeah I mean…” Adrien shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe if I hadn’t known the truth I’d have believed hem but when I did I saw how stupid they were and they reminded me of the tabloids. I thought they’d figure it out themselves. I didn’t think she was hurting anyone.”

“But she did. Her actions almost caused many of them to miss out on incredibly important opportunities for their futures. It was lucky your friend Marientte managed to convince them it was a good way to show case their skills to the supposed contacts Lila had.” The doctor said and Adrien winced.

“I… I didn’t want her Akumatized again.”

“And yet Marientte was.” Adrien looked down. “Adrien, if I can be very blunt- you despise conflict and prefer a passive approach to it. While disliking conflict is fine, and I encourage you not to seek it out, not confronting people who you know are in the wrong isn’t always the best idea.”

“...” Adrien didn’t want to think about it anymore. But he had to. His father had made him go to therapy and Plagg had told him it was a good idea for him to do so. He needed to get over this. “It’s easier when it’s not me.” Adrien blurted our. “Online I mean.” He quickly covered. It was easy to confront people as Chat Noir.

“Then pretend you’re not Adrien when you confront people.” The therapist offered and…

That was really good advice.

Two months later…

“Hello and welcome to the new Ladyblog!” Alya grinned on the screen Marientte was watching. “As you know due to certain circumstances I left this blog for the last few months. This is due to Lila and her actions towards my classmate and my own actions. However, this is a new start. First and foremost- this blog will now only contain facts. I have three people to check over anything I post that’s an article and needed to be researched who will do so. I spoke with Ladybug and she’s agreed to an interview with all heroes providing they agree-“ that was the only small crack, a shadow of sadness. After Miracle Queen everyone know she’d been a hero, and seeing a new fox must hurt.

Marientte though was just amused that Alya was such a good actor. Sure she no longer used the fox but she fit the Turtle very well. And Nino was a fine Dragon, while Luka was a great Fox and Kagami was an amazing Bee.

It hadn’t been to hard to manage to have an interview with them- though all separate. It was enough to show Paris they were human to.

Marinette smiled, watching as Alya continued her speech.

Things had changed since she’d become Plague Rat. Lila was now in jail back in Italy. Youth jail but still. She would spend two years there before being released on parole for either ten years or for the rest of her life depending on her actions. While she had lost her first lawyer they had been assigned a second one who had managed to get a psychiatrist in to look at her.

The man said she was either a psychopath or a sociopath. They had tried to say that meant she was allowed to be free but that was ended when the doctor pointed out she knew what she was doing was wrong. She just didn’t care.

She wasn’t allowed back in France and apparently other countries had also banned her. She was forever stuck in Italy.

The former mayor was also in jail. Five years, chance of parole in two and a half, maybe less depending on behaviour. Nadja had lost custody of Manon after it got out she routinely used the girl to gather info and had put her in risk multiple times. Audrey was in jail, Roger had lost his job and was on probation.

Paris had experienced a revolution after Plague Rat. The new mayor was a woman who took no shit and was a hardass who was happily funding the police to find Hawkmoth, and bring him down. The new commissioner had fired all corrupt cops- Roger had been part of this sweep- and now Paris was thriving.

Adrien as well seemed to have changed. He had formally apologized to her for his inaction and he was taking steps to be able to confront people. He’d already had a fight with his father about being a model and had leaked to the press how Gabriel treated him. Gabriel was in therapy now and Adrien had a social worker doing random checks on him.

“I guess even Akumatized I’m a hero.” She remarked to Tikki who chuckled.

“Perhaps. But I like you as you.”

“Same.” She still has nightmares about what she’d done. She still freaked out about the hospital. Hell she was still recovering months later from the stress of being Akumatized while suffering from sickness and a horrible immune system.

But she was doing better. She was moving forward.

And that was all she could do.

Tagged: @anastasian-dreamer @magicalfirebird @kibastray @thesunanditsangel @virgil-is-a-cutie @marinettepotterandplagg @heaven428 @sofmimis @so-freaking-done-with-people @moonystars14 @slytherinhquinn @spartanxhunterx

#ml au #plague rat #akumanette #end of story.

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calypsoff · 3 years

Text

Thirty Five.

Trying to find a therapist was hard, there is a lot of people that need it and a lot of them were booked up. It’s taken me a whole week to get someone for him, I finally did, and he has the appointment with the therapist today and also his rehabilitation, which I am at now. Chris looked over at me and smiled and then looked away “hold the bars at the side of you” getting my phone out to check my emails, I have been trying to get things done for him because my overseas tour is glooming over so quick and I want to be here for him, but I know I can’t, I can’t just change every overseas date. I think I was deciding to get Clinton flown out to be here for him, he has settled better. I mean I sure do be in bed by ten now, I think the sleep is good for him. He refuses to take the depressants, but he will have the sleeping ones, but he refuses to have a haircut though. I mean he also tried to act like he had a shower, but he didn’t, and I think he got confused but whatever, it was dealt with, my forcefulness worked. But sleeping is working, he does talk to me. He smiled at me, he is less irritated but there is issues still there “I can’t do it though?” looking up at my phone at him saying that “but you just did it, you feel pulling here. That happens Chris because your leg hasn’t been in use so let’s try again, stand up straight. Try and keep the weight off and more on your hands when holding the bars” he says I can’t a lot, he can do it. I just been so busy with Chris that I haven’t replied back to a lot of the things I was supposed to, I am trying to start a beauty line, so I am trying to build my contact list and well, I am failing at it because I am so busy just trying to help Chris every time, a breakthrough happened though with Chris, he ate a whole meal.

The door closed behind me as I got into the car “tired?” I asked him, he nodded his head. Opening the backpack “I bought you some drinks and some snacks, I assumed you would have got tired from it all. I got you some Gatorade or water? Which one?” I asked “Gatorade” grabbing the bottle “so tell me. How was the first day there? I don’t want to hear the negative side, just the positive” holding the bottle out to him “lots of leg exercises done, he kept pushing my foot to be straight. He says that I seem to be standing a little slant, and before we finished he said my foot is straight, see if I can do it automatically. He said that your leg has been through trauma, it’s just learning. Your left leg will mimic your right soon, but the leg exercises were tiresome, felt good though” he actually gave me positivity “good, I am happy to hear that. So you are happy yes?” he nodded his head “I am glad to hear, how do you feel that we are going to a therapist?” he was playing up with that “I won’t speak to them, I don’t want to know” rolling my eyes “Chris, I refuse to let you keep this inside you. You’re going there and you’re going to speak to him, alone. I will wait outside the room” I won’t go in, I might just ruin the privacy he may want “why?” he questioned “because you may want to say something I don’t need to hear, this is your time Chris. Please speak on your feelings” also that shit wasn’t cheap, this is a good guy too.

Holding the crutches while waiting for Chris to come out of the car “here, be careful” I said to Chris, he slowly got out of the SUV “does it hurt coming out now?” it did hurt him before, but it seems like he is not cringing in pain anymore “thank you” he actually thanked me, that is so sweet of him now. Closing the door and letting Chris hop off slowly, walking behind but then he stopped “you can go ahead of me” he said, walking ahead of him “I have your jacket if you need it” walking towards the building, pressing the buzzer and turned around to see what Chris is doing, he is slowly coming bless him “Bruce Sarlin office” he said “hi, I am here for an appointment for Chris Brown” I spoke, hearing Chris huffing and puffing, he is tired clearly “come in” the door buzzed open for me, pushing the door open and holding it open for Chris to come in “we don’t need to do this you know” shaking my head at Chris, I refuse to let him get away with it “we are going” letting the door close “you know what Chris, I am proud of you” I have to give it to him because has done things I have asked of him even though he says no “really? Shall I press the elevator button?” nodding my head “yeah I am, I am proud of you for what you have done Chris, how far you have come and done for yourself” clearly this trauma has stemmed from jail, it has got too because when I met Chris he wasn’t the same man, also his dad said the same thing.

Sniffing Chris’ jacket “that is weird” looking over at Chris “it smells like you, how is that weird? You know I like to wear your things” I breathed out heavily “how can I be tired but yet I sleep so early, this is on you by the way, how early you sleep. But it’s ok, also I got a smile from you today. Didn’t think I would get such a thing” I grinned to myself, it’s there I just need to have patience. Resting my head on his shoulder “you have also ate a meal of mine, you smiled at me today. You’re taking your medication, what more can I ask for” Chris hasn’t shrugged my head off from him, I think this is the first time I have had my head anywhere near him because in bed we sleep apart, we do not sleep close because first I don’t want to hurt him but also I don’t want to be in his space, some affection and I like it “I do it for you, I came here for you. It’s you Robyn, I do it for you not for me. I am just living, more so you because I don’t want this, being in my head. I just don’t want it but I do it for you” I hate when I hear that “you do it and I can deal with that” that is all I know “Chris Brown” lifting my head up from his shoulder, Chris stared at this white old man with a pure white beard, like his beard is pearly white, it’s crazy “would you like to come in” he smiled at Chris but he just stared at him “if you want we can have Robyn come in?” he gestured “Rihanna” furrowing my eyebrows, that was random “or Rihanna, I don’t mind which personality she would like to bring to the room, come?” he smiled, he didn’t want him to call me Robyn. I got up from the seat, I really wanted him to go alone because he may have been better that way “come, let’s go in” he isn’t going to go in without me, clearly.

This man seems so sweet “would you like to be called Chris or Christopher?” he asked, this room seems so peaceful in a weird way. It’s giving me peace vibes anyways “Chris” he answered him “Chris, I am Bruce Sarlin. I have been speaking to Rihanna” he pointed at me “yeah” he drifted off “I am concerned about him, like I am not going to speak on his behalf like a mother but the reason why I reached out to you because his doctor said she feels he has PTSD and he has been saying how much he doesn’t want to be here which to me is concerning so I bought him here to get some help, he deserves to happy and I know he doesn’t feel it right now. He’s changed since I first met him and I feel like certain factors in his life changed him but that is me done, I am not speaking again” I held my hands up, Bruce smiled at me “that is fine, Chris how do you feel when Rihanna speaks on you being changed, do you feel there is something wrong? Do you think there is” he questioned him, I think that is a hard question, it’s hard to admit something is wrong “no” he is such a liar “that is fine, so you’re ok and Rihanna is just concerned over nothing?” looking over at Chris and he shrugged, he is not being truthful “what happened to your leg? Did you break it?” he pointed “I got shot in the thigh, because of some obsessed fan that wanted Rihanna” Bruce started writing that down “does that play on your mind at all?” I want to kick him for lying “no” I knew he would say that “then tell me Chris why are you here? Do you think there is something wrong, now this is a safe space and if you rather do this alone, we can also let Rihanna leave the room?” I rather go so he can tell the truth “I go if she goes” he is working my nerve “Chris, poppa. Listen to me, you need to get better. You need to tell the truth; I did this for you. This may be painful, but you need to let it loose” Chris needs to do this, he has to do this for us.

Chris didn’t respond at all, he remained silent, I am not sure what that even means, is this him agreeing to cooperating “let’s try an open question, what would you say is the most traumatic and frightening experience you had in your life, there could be many but is there a main one where you say it was a changing point” Bruce asked Chris and I hope he answers as I would like him too, he can’t keep saying no to everything, he needs to open up and say how he feels “when I want to jail” the relief I feel right now, to know he is saying something “and if you don’t mind me asking, why did you go to jail? I want to know” I am just going to remain silent, unless he starts talking shit again “drugs, I am not a bad person, but I got caught with moving it for my cousin” Bruce nodded his head “and how long was that for?” he asked “five years” Bruce raised an eyebrow “so it was weed or what? Was it a small amount” Chris laughed “no sir, we are talking about keys of cocaine. It’s quick money for a nigga, but yeah. I got caught and I got asked to snitch, this to get a lesser sentence and I just sat there thinking about my life, I didn’t want to be locked up for the rest of my life, so I did it, on my own cousin. I am never proud of it because I am constantly looking over my shoulder, nobody likes a snitch, but I was looking out for me. My cousin got caught and life goes on, someone else took over but that meant he was jailed in the same place as me” Bruce is just writing, he is writing a lot “so you got jailed in the same place as your cousin, how was it in there?. Describe jail for me Chris” that is a lot of context, I wonder if Chris will answer that.

My eyes dragged to Chris; he is quiet. I mean it is a lot to answer “I was in a detention centre with a bunch of niggas, I mean as soon as I got there they stripped me, ass cheeks spread and all that. I was young as hell, I just wanted quick money. I didn’t want that, I was in a centre with niggas that were in their thirties and there for life, they put me in jail with niggas that were worse than me. I kept myself to myself, I didn’t speak to anyone, it was depressing. I been there for a few weeks now, I heard my cousin arrived. He saw me, and I saw him, but we walked by. Then it got out, I am a snitch. Nobody likes a snitch, I was scared. One of the niggas mentioned it to me on the low, it’s getting around that I am a snitch. He probably felt sorry for me, I don’t know. And erm” he paused, he is emotional “I was scared to sleep at night, and I get why. They were there, we all sleep in this one big room, I was fucked up. I couldn’t go anywhere, the guards weren’t there, and I got beat in the night, on my shoulder I got stabbed too. I thought this is it, this was the moment I die but no, I woke up in the jail hospital. They barely let me heal and threw me in the box because I started the fight, I was in there for what, three weeks. An hour of daylight, I did nothing. Jail was hard for me” his voice broke “and uhm I was in there, for so long until my parents fought to speak to me, I didn’t speak to anyone for weeks. They moved me to somewhere that was better but even then I was on edge because I was a snitch, it moved with me. That title, I had it forever. I had to show I wasn’t going to take their shit, I made my own knife, I had to be clever, and I had to show I wasn’t going to be beaten up, so I had to beat someone up there, he lived anyways but every day I had to live on the edge.”

“And then while I was in jail I was hearing you have my heart, and we'll never be worlds apart. Maybe in magazines. And I couldn’t escape her, I couldn’t escape her voice. I was stuck in a cell and I just be thinking and being hateful because she left without saying anything to me” Chris paused “I loved her, she didn’t know but I did and it just sucks, I don’t know how I made it out and I feel like I can’t relax. Five years there felt like twenty years, the days dragged because I refused to make friends with people that knew I am a snitch and would have killed me in my sleep and being in VA everyone knew what I did. He is my cousin; it’s a code and you won’t get it. Jail made me toughen up, I ain’t ever want to harm anyone, and to stab someone was the start of my downfall but I had to do it, they were going to kill me if they knew I did nothing. You know how hard it is to fend for your life? To be looking behind you when getting your food, not knowing who is out to get you. I slept with my fist balled up, but everyone wanted that Chris, the sweet Chris. I am not the same and never will be” I never knew he did that, frowning at Chris in concern “do you get flashbacks?” Bruce asked, I am still reeling in from the first part “I do, happiness is a thing I think won’t last long for me. I do think to the moment where I got beat and then me beating another man for my own fight to show I will kill a nigga if they come near me” Bruce cleared his throat “how hard is it to speak on this? Is this the first time for you?” he nodded his head “I ain’t ever told a soul this, I feel like I lost myself when I went to jail and I try so hard to be happy, I want it but things happen to me which just confirms to me that I should be dead. I often think about the guy I stabbed, and if I am being honest the image of blood comes to me, but he made it, he was alive, but I knew what I did and so did everyone in that block. I feel like I had to be them. And then when that guy, that crazy guy had his gun to me. It was just like I was back in jail and I was feeling myself dying from pain and just the whole thing. I have so many scars, battle wounds, you can never be the same once you be in jail” this was just a big insight, I am shocked because I wasn’t expecting it.

Bruce set up another appointment with Chris, I think I will be able to go to about two more of these before I leave for overseas. I don’t want Chris to think I am quiet with him because of what I heard, I also don’t want to take it away with us because it’s private to him, that is what it will be “you must be tired after all this” I said breaking the silence “you looking at me different now?” Chris bought it up “why would I? This is private to you; how do you feel? I know it’s the first session” I can’t judge it already “erm, I don’t know yet. He’s going to continue to push me at things” now I am scared to know if there is more bad things “that is fine, you needed to speak on it Chris. Everyone deserves to be heard, speak on your feelings” I want that for him but I am just scared to know the fuck else is there to tell, I hope nothing even worse.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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xxcureangelxx · 3 years

Note

5, 9, 10, 13, 20, 21, 24, 25, 28, 30-35, 38-42, 44-46, 50, 52, 54, 60-62, 66, 71-74, 86-91, 96, 100! 😊

okay I literally have no clue how old this is and if I'm even taking the questions from the right post but here goes I guess? 🙈

5. What is your favorite Color?

PURPLE

9. How tall are you?

about 1,70 meters or 5'7"

10. What shoe size are you?

size 40-41, I think that's about 8 in US sizes?

13. What talents do you have?

uhhh good question... not sure if it counts but I guess I'm quite good at a lot if things but can't do anything extraordinarily well?

20. Are you religious?

Absolutely not. Due to family history and a lot of other things I'm actually against it a lot but people can do whatever they feel like is right for them as long as they don't harm others with it.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

Yes, quite a lot actually. practically grew up in hospitals as a baby because of kidney issues, broke both my legs with 4 years old, had to revisit for tests a lot during my childhood because of the kidney issue. it calmed down afterwards until I was back in hospital last year because of my terrible mental health and I'm currently in a rehabilitation clinic for it as well.

24. Baths or showers?

Shower's because we don't have a bathtub

25. What color socks are you wearing?

currently none, I love going barefoot, but usually I wear white, gray or black. I know... I'm a bad gay.. no rainbow socks (;ŏ﹏ŏ)

28. What type of music do you like?

you know.... I hate this question with a passion even though I love music so I'll just throw in my yt-playlist here and everyone who's interested can look through it to get a picture xD not sorted in any way and not a conclusive list at all, I just add songs as I find them

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

mostly just one at a time but I've got two different ones. one is the normal fluffy kinda pillow, the other is made of some kinda foam material and rather thin.

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

I'm always lying on the side! have been doing that since I was a baby too.

32. How big is your house?

compared to what? 🙈 I'd say decent size for 5 people to live in, would have space for 1-2 more if rooms were used differently but definitely not enough to comfortably live with 12 or even more people like my family used to. we've got like 3 proper sleeping rooms (one of which is the attic so not very nice in terms of heat and the staircase is smack in the middle of the room), a kitchen, a dining room, a big living room, a tiny bathroom that barely fits a toilet and shower, and the basement is a mix of storage, electrics and stuff, washing room/utility room and it's got another smaller room that's been turned back into a small workshop but used to be the room of my brother and later my grandmother.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

I guess this is where it shows that I'm german but we usually just eat bread (preferably whole grain) with cheese or slices of salami or ..meat sausage? is that a proper translation? 🤨 idk... it's rather simple really. on the weekend maybe buns and boiled eggs. on the occasion that I'm too tired for it or don't have enough time I eat cereals but it's not very common when I'm at work/school

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

No, and I don't want to

35. Have you ever tried archery?

Yes!! I did last year when I was in the hospital and it was super fun! was quite good at it as well, even for my first try 😤

38. What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?

I think about 3 days? if we count "barely unconscious for a few hours" as sleep that is... otherwise no clue...my memory of the bad sleepless time is quite hazy lol

39. Do you have any scars?

yeah, quite a few tbh. got 2 huge ones from surgeries due to my kidney issues, well they look like 2 but it's actually multiple ones since they simply cut open party of the old ones again, tiny hooman apparently have very little skin. then I got some other ones here and there from accidents, general dumbness, etc, like when I cut through my sunday morning bun and almost cut half of the tip of my finger off because my mother sharpened the knife and didn't tell me or that time as a kid I couldn't wait for my ironing pearl pictures to be done and burned myself on the hot iron, mostly stuff like that.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

I mean.. if they're a secret... how would I know? ;) not sure if it counts that it took me months to realize I had a crush on my best friend and the feelings were reciprocated and I was too blind to see the signs?

41. Are you a good liar?

Nope. People actually think I'm lying more often than I lie... so.... :/

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I'm.. honestly not sure what this one means? like, am I able to judge what kind of character a person has after barely meeting them or smth? if so, I'm terrible at it

44. Do you have a strong accent?

in german? nope. in english? hmm hard to judge since I rarely hear myself speak. I think the stuff I do know how to pronounce is mostly okay but since I learned it through reading I'm simply unsure of a lot of pronunciations. 'also'.... I can not for the life of me pronouns that word no matter how many times I hear it... it's kinda become a quirk after some classmates pointed it out to me and I'm incredibly aware how terrible I say the word but.... just can't get rid of it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

45. What is your favorite accent?

I.. actually really love the way my best friend talks? 👉👈 they're french btw. just... typical me for struggling to understand them though, already terrible at it in german too...

46. What is your personality type?

honestly, I don't think I can answer that. I'm big on self loathing and everything's pretty shitty so, no thanks

50. Left or right handed?

Right handed. but does it even count id I'm bad at doing things with that hand too? lol

52. Favorite food?

hmmmm tough question... not the biggest fan of food in general a lot of the time... probably Züricher Geschnetzeltes

54. Are you a clean or a messy person?

Definitely messy. my allergies did not like this post trying to clean and tidy up more often though. my depression does not like this post either

60. Do you talk to yourself?

sometimes. quite a bit when watching movies or if I mess stuff up

61. Do you sing to yourself?

barely. got a lot of bad experiences with that so i keep my singing to a minimum. my shower is a great listener though

62. Are you a good singer?

I was in a choir for a few years when I went to 'middle school' and I had like one solo part once but other than that I can't really say because I barely ever sing in front of people

66. Do you like long or shor hair?

this question is currently my absolute nemesis.. I've got suuuper duper long hair and have had it ever since elementary school and I used to be super happy with it and sometimes I still am happy with it but other days, depending on where I'm at genderwise, I absolutely hate it and I just want to take the closest scissors and cut it all off... currently haven't had the guts to look for new hair styles though... but in other people? or women more specifically? I love long hair 🥺

71. What makes you nervous?

Or the shorter question: what doesn't make me nervous... I'd say pretty much everything has got the potential to make me nervous. I'm an overthinker, anxiety is a big thing for me and ptsd makes me scared of almost everything. so.. yeah... sucks to be me sometimes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

72. Are you scared of the dark?

Yes, very

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

I try not to but sadly I sometimes do, even if it's not my place to. I really don't like that part and hope I'll be able to learn not to sometime

74. Are you ticklish?

Yes and I hate it 😭

86. What are you allergic to?

again, easier question: what am I not allergic to... it's... a lot... like, really a lot. with the test on the skin of my arm I reacted to every single substance and the more thorough blood test lead to much of the same result. the absolute worst are birch trees (pitty, love those), then the usual pollen of pretty much every tree or flower, all animals with fur or feathers, dust and... yeah list goes on and on, you get the picture... :/

87. Do you keep a journal?

no.. have tried to multiple times in the past but never made it more than a week... too depressing to write and read... the therapist at the rehab clinic is currently forcing me to try a positivity diary for the millionths time, can't even get that done each day even though I'm doing it on my phone and get notifications to do it each evening...

88. What do your parents do?

making my life hell lol.. okay on a serious note, my father was a car electrician, he's retired by now, my mother is a housewife, she used to work different jobs before her first kid, later on she took care of my grandmother who was suffering from dementia, got some money and retirement points for that too.

89. Do you like your age?

I-... I don't know? it's weird because I both feel a lot younger and a lot older than I am rn....

90. What makes you angry?

another tough question... I actually have anger issues in that way that I'm barely capable of feeling anger... used to be worse but I already worked a lot on it in therapy so there's at least some there now... in the past I simply started to cry and felt overwhelmed by sadness whenever I was supposed to feel anger... so I can't tell very well what makes me angry because I first have to realize that I'm feeling anger or more like should be feeling it....

91. Do you like your own name?

Not really, no, but I guess I finally figured out some reasons why.. I've recently started going by a bit of a different name too but only my closest friends know so far and I'm not sure if I'll be using it irl at all..

96. How did you get your name?

I'm still trying to get my mother to admit that she named me after this song but she keeps denying it.. she's a fan of this band so it would have fit.. but she keeps saying she just liked the name, no long thought process behind it..

my chosen name is a bit of a different story. an ex friend I got to know through yt gave me that nickname almost 10 years ago after I complained that you can't make a shorter nickname out of my birthname and it's also the name of s character I like, especially his voice, and... idk it just feels more gender neutral and I simply feel comfortable with it. it just fit.

100. Color of your room?

same as question 5: Purple 🥰 or... well half the walls are purple, the other half is white

phew... can't believe I made it through all of these....

in case people haven't noticed yet, I'm currently kinda getting back into tumblr? I think I've already stayed a lot longer than any times I tried getting back before. it mostly started because we've got super bad wifi at the clinc I'm at rn and reddit takes up waaayy too much mobile data and... idk, I guess I just missed the vibe of tumblr

I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stick around but we'll see

#ask game #answered #I really really do not have any clue how long this has been sitting in my inbox...#the og post was somewhere around december if I saw that correctly (๑•﹏•)#oopsie...#just hope posting goes through snd my 3 hours of hard work weren't for nothing....#edit; posting worked but tumblr messed up the formating...#I'm not gonna bother fixing that because it's late and I need sleep 😭

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