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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

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The Dressing Room (Cillian Murphy one shot)

Warning - smut

A/N - Cillian is performing onstage in Grief is the Thing With Feathers.. He has no wife or children here, he's just a carefree bachelor 😉

Request? Yes

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

It was 9pm by the time you'd arrived at the back doors of the Gaiety in Dublin, hoping to catch a glimpse of him as he left the theatre and hopefully get your copy of Grief signed. You had tickets to see the play the following night - opening night - tonights show was just a warm up. You knew he normally left the theatre after the curtain call, avoiding the crowd at the front and never having a drink after a show with the crew. Tonight however, seemed to be the one night he didn't leave on schedule...

You checked your watch - 9:30pm. It was the middle of October and my god you were freezing, but you knew if you left now he'd come out... Just another ten minutes...

9:55pm.

10:15pm.

Your fingers were so cold, you couldn't feel them anymore. Your feet were like blocks of ice at the end of your legs. Looking around, you could hear the throng of people at the front of the building start to quieten - they were clearly moving on too. Your bladder was screaming at you - you knew that last cup of coffee on the train was a bad idea....

You were regretting your decision massively. The only reason you came tonight was because it would be quieter than tomorrow - just a warm up show for close friends and family. Obviously he had decided to stay behind for a while, or maybe he'd left through the main entrance... Fuck it. Wrapping your coat around you, you turned to leave before you finally heard the back door open. Turning, you saw him. Wrapped up in a long tan coloured scarf and beanie hat, but it was undoubtedly him. He spotted you with your book and pen and you definitely saw him sigh and roll his eyes.

"Cillian, I'm sorry I just - "

"Come back tomorrow night and I'll sign whatever you want me to sign," he huffed, turning his back on you and walking towards the car park.

"Are you fucking serious?" You almost laughed, looking to the night sky.

"What did you say?" Shit, you said that louder than you thought...

"I said - are you serious... I've been stood here for nearly two hours waiting for you, desperate for a wee, freezing my fucking arse off, and all you can tell me is to come back tomorrow? The self-proclaimed nice guy of Hollywood huh, not so nice are you? All I wanted was a fucking autograph.." You turned on your heel shaking your head and walked away.

"Hey! I never said I wouldn't sign it, I said I'd sign it tomorrow! Jesus... Some sense of fucking entitlement huh?"

"Fuck you, Cillian." Your angry eyes met his stunned ones for a moment, before you turned around and walked away.

**************************************************************

The following evening, after a lot of angry discussions with yourself in your head, scolding yourself for acting like a spoilt, entitled brat, you finally decided that the train ride and hotel booking was worth more than your pride. You'd arrived at the theatre with your tail between your legs, hoping he hadn't prewarned the staff about the psycho girl with red hair and banned you from the theatre....

Fortunately nothing happened. You watched the show in awe, his performance was utterly mesmerising... And it was easy to understand why he looked so exhausted the night before - my god the man barely stopped to take a breath!! You felt so guilty.. the thought of asking him to sign anything right now was absolutely terrifying, so you decided not to bother... Picking up your bag after curtain call, you made your way back into the foyer when there was a sudden tap on your shoulder. Turning around, one of the stewards was smiling at you.

"Miss? Were you at the stage door behind the building around 11pm last night?"

"Um... Yes... I know I wasn't supposed to be there and it won't happen again -"

"Could you come with me please?"

You panicked - you knew it was trespassing... He led you back into the theatre and up through the stage into the backstage area. Your hands were so shaky, the panic coursing through you, when your eyes suddenly made sense of where you were - the large door in front of you with Dressing Room clearly emblazoned across it...

The steward knocked, and a thick Irish brogue called him in. He opened the door and ushered you inside before you could protest. Sat on the couch was Cillian, his makeup freshly removed and he was back in his normal clothes again. On the table in front of him was a bottle of rum.

"I owe you an apology... What's your name?" he looked up at you and smiled, offering you a glass.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck?" You asked, looking at him like he'd grown an extra head.

"I was an ass last night - figured one drink with me and an autograph might soften the blow a little?"

He offered you the glass again and you took it. He clinked his glass against yours and knocked the rum back in one, you did the same. Rum wasn't your normal beverage of choice but it'd do for now. He poured a second glass each for you and you sipped this one.

"Haven't eaten since lunchtime - this is gonna go straight to my head," you laughed.

The two of you chatted - over an hour had gone by before either of you noticing. You were sat on the couch side by side as he continued to top your glass up. Now and again your hands would meet, or legs brush up against each other, and you swore you saw him bite his lip and smile every single time... Was he flirting with you?

"Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" You asked after a short pause.

"Everyone thinks I've already gone, only the steward knows I'm here. This is where I was last night - hiding. Pretty sad huh?" His words were definitely slower now the rum had kicked in.

"Not really - it's an intense show, needing some downtime on your own isn't a bad thing?" You were definitely slurring your words a little, trying hard not to be a complete lightweight and failing miserably.

"I owe you an autograph..." His blue eyes met yours, another lip bite... You felt your stomach knot...

"Yes you do..." You had to squeeze your thighs together to suppress the sudden ache you felt between them, his eyes were seeing into your soul, you could feel them burning into you.

"And where would you like me to sign?" You reached into your bag and groaned - you hadn't brought the book... You hadn't brought anything... A thought entered your head... And you'd had just about enough rum to ask for it...

"Ever had a tattoo of your autograph done before?" You asked him. He shook his head.

"Nope. So you want me to sign your arm?" You shook your head.

"Leg?"

"No."

"Back?"

"No..."

"Then where?" You unbuttoned your blouse from the neck down, his eyes widening with each loosened button. You stopped unbuttoning once you reached your cleavage, pulling the shirt off one shoulder to hang by your elbow. You tapped on your collarbone.

"Maybe a quote from the okay, written across here, and your autograph underneath?" His eyes covered your chest, following your finger as you traced a line over your collarbone.

"Uh... Yeah, yeah I can do that... Let me grab a pen..." He grabbed one from the desk, and came back, kneeling on the floor between your legs as he tried to figure out the best angle to get at your skin without smudging it... Or touching something inappropriate...

"This is tricky... Can you lay down?" He asked, and you lay on the couch - your blouse hanging further down now exposing the black lace bra underneath. He cleared his throat and focussed on your future tattoo. It was impossible to write it without laying his right arm directly on top of your breast, and his left hand holding the skin on the right side of your chest tight, just above your right breast. Once he'd decided the right quote, he set to work, his right arm brushing across your nipple as it moved, sending vibrations and shockwaves through you. You couldn't help but feel the dampness between your thighs, and you had no control over how deep your breathing suddenly became and your eyes fluttering closed at the sensations.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asked, watching your thighs clenching.

"Mhmm.."

"What is it you're enjoying, exactly?" He moved his arm again, brushing over your breast.

"Mm... That... Do it again.."

"This?" His fingers traced over your left breast at the tip, circling the skin softly, tracing slightly under the material of your bra.

"Yes..."

"I can't get all the way across your collarbone... Your bra strap's in my way.." he whispered, and you arched your back as he reached a hand underneath your blouse, pinging the clasp skilfully. You pulled your arm out of the sleeve and he pulled the bra strap down over your hand, lifting it off your chest. Your left breast fully exposed now, and your left hand resting on your abdomen, scraping your nails over it, so tempted to run it down over your core that was now desperately throbbing, aching for attention. He looked down at your hand, and smiled.

You bit your lip as he stretched the skin again, setting back to work. He knelt closer to you, he was hovering over your chest now and you felt something digging into your right arm. Shifting slightly, his obvious erection was directly underneath your forearm. You bit your lip, and moved your arm so it was rubbing against it, making his hand slip, a deep groan emitting from his lips.

"I need your name..." He moved his mouth to your ear, the pen gone and his hand cupping your left breast, "Need to know what name I'm calling as I bend you over this sofa..." You gasped as his lips met your earlobe, his fingers squeezed your breast, moving down over your abdomen and under your jeans. His eyes met yours, looking for permission. You nodded, telling him your name.

"Y/n... If you don't tell me to stop now, there's no going back..."

"Don't you fucking dare." That was all he needed to hear. He stood, moving to the door and locking it, turning back to find you also standing. His body met yours, lips crashing together as your hands raked through his hair, tugging at the strands. He lifted you off the floor, your legs wrapping round his waist as he carried you to the wall, pinning you against it. You could feel his erection pressing into you through your clothes, which he soon began to remove quickly. You stood bare in front of him, as his fingers moved between your legs, tapping the inside of your thigh to open them. You lifted one leg in the air, hooked under your elbow, as his fingers teased you.

"No playing... Need you inside me now, please..." You gasped, as he unzipped his jeans allowing them to fall to the ground. Your hand quickly slipped inside his boxer shorts, gripping the shaft of his erection and moving your hand up and down making his hips buck. You removed your hand, only to pull the shorts down to meet his jeans on the floor around his ankles. Lifting your body, he wrapped your legs around his waist and lined himself against your slick opening, pushing inside you slowly as you both let out primal, deep groans.

"Holy shit.. so deep, Cillian fuck..." Your breath caught in your throat as he bottomed out, his lips quickly capturing yours in a heated exchange, you hands digging into his shoulders as he began to thrust up into you. You rotated your hips as much as you could to meet his thrusts, soon stopping when his desire took over and he increased the force and pace of them.

"You feel so good.. clamping that hot little pussy around me... You gonna cum for me y/n?"

"You're gonna have to do better than that Murphy..." You smirked, biting your lip, hoping he was about to make good his threat of the sofa...

Within seconds he had you there. Your upper body bent over the back of the couch as he pounded into you from behind.

"Harder... Harder!!" You begged, your orgasm so close it was almost painful. You could hear him panting behind you, his cock pulsing and throbbing deep within you and you knew he was as close as you were.

His hand reached over your back, and gripped your long red hair - pulling it back, setting you on fire. The coil in your abdomen exploded, your core erupting with the most powerful orgasm you'd ever had.

"Fuck yes... Fuck.. yes... Y/n, fuck..." He grunted behind you feeling your walls contracting around him, before releasing his load deep into you, your name on repeat as he came.

He skilfully turned you whilst remaining inside, hoisting you up so your legs were round his waist again. You rested your head against his shoulder as he carried you to the couch, sitting down with you still in his arms, his cock still inside softening.

"That was something else..." He panted, stroking your back and neck.

"That was amazing..."

"Am I forgiven?"

"Hmm... More work needed." He pulled you back and grinned.

"So what do I have to do to earn your full forgiveness?" You grinded your hips against him and nudged his nose with yours. He bit his lip and felt himself hardening again inside you. Your hips rotated on him, squeezing your walls around him, edging him back to full erection deep within you.

"You gonna ride me?"

"I'm gonna ride you so fucking hard..." You moved his hands to your breasts, leaning back to give him full access to them and bounced like your life depended on it. He squeezed your nipples under his fingers, watching your soaked core devour his cock, bouncing on it.

"That's it... That's it..." You gasped as he moved his hand down to rub your clit under his thumb as your hips rocked against him, your hands resting on his knees behind you.

"You like that? My fingers rubbing your clit while you ride me?" His voice was like velvet against your ears, his words edging you closer. He pressed your clit with his thumb harder, his other hand rolling your breast under his palm, squeezing the flesh.

"Please... Oh fuck I'm gonna cum Cillian..."

"Let it go, I've got you baby.." your core throbbed as your orgasm swamped you, taking him with you as he threw his head back against the sofa, filling you up a second time. Both of you panting against each other again as you came down from your climaxes.

"Fuck me... I have to be forgiven now..."

"Getting there," you smiled, pulling your body off his and grabbing your clothes off the floor. You pulled out a notepad and pen, writing something down and stuffing it in his jeans pocket on the floor. You dressed quickly, his eyes watching your every move.

"Leaving already?"

"My phone number is in your jeans pocket. Call me if you're in town again?" He smiled and nodded, promising to take you up on the offer. You leaned over him, stealing one more kiss, before heading out the door.

**************************************************************

Your phone buzzing on your bedside table woke you the following morning. A number you didn't recognise calling you. Answering it groggily, the voice suddenly woke you up with a start.

"I still owe you an autograph."

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thedumpsterqueen · 3 years

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Standards of Performance, Chapter 12: What Happens in Alleyways

From the Beginning, Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Sorry it's a lil short, it's more of a transition chapter to actually jumping into this case and Reader's now even more confusing "relationship" with Hotch. Things get kinkier and angrier and more explicit from here, but I'll do my best to tag stuff. Thanks for your patience as always, guys, especially amidst the dumpster fire that is current events right now <3 Your reblogs and tags slay me and I love it.

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: Turns out, the world doesn't stop on its axis just because you had sex with your boss. You’re unsure whether or not that’s a good thing.

Words: 1,882

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Violence, dark themes, explicit sexual content. More specific warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You awoke to the dim light of the dawn, rain gently pattering on the windows, and the blaring sound of Hotch’s ringtone three feet from your face.

“Jesus christ, old man,” you groaned, blinking your eyes open, “turn your hearing aids up.”

Already sitting up in bed, he paused with the phone halfway to his ear.

Shit. You were being too casual - waking up in his bed, joking with him. Acting like you belonged there. You didn’t know how he felt about what happened, for all you knew he regretted every second and-

“You’re paying for that later,” he smiled before answering the call.

The playful threat filled you with relief before it made your stomach flip, and the memories of last night came flooding back. His body, his eyes, his hands all burned inside your eyelids as if you’d been staring directly at the sun. You’d never been in this situation before - waking up next to someone you’d spent the night with and desperately hoping it was the first time rather than the last. But you’d also never felt your body sing with the white-hot pleasure it did when it was touched by the seemingly unattainable man who did so last night, so. There was that.

The low rumble of his voice brought you back to the present, and you looked up at his face to find it was twisted up in concentration, resignation, and something else.

“I’ll be right down,” he said, standing up swiftly and pulling his work clothes on with practiced speed. “Don’t let anyone touch anything.”

He shoved his phone in his suit pocket and looked at you, still tangled up in his sheets.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” he said, terse. “There’s a body in the alley outside the building.”

“Outside this building?”

“Yes,” he responded, “and there’s a note.”

As he swept out the door, leaving you reeling, you realized what the other expression on his face was. Fear.

***

Hotch had gotten ready and exited the apartment before you had even processed the situation, and your mind was racing a mile a minute as you flung yourself out of bed and scrambled to get dressed. The logical assumption, of course, was that the stalker had left the body. People didn’t just end up dead in alleyways in this part of town, and certainly not in the middle of a rainstorm mere floors from where the BAU Unit Chief slept - not without a reason.

You threw on your coat and boots, forgoing contacts and makeup in favor of your glasses and a hat to cover the tangled mess last night’s tryst had made of your hair. Without even pausing to look in a mirror, you scurried down the stairwell and exited the lobby into the cold October wind.

It was easy to tell which alley the body occupied - there were an excess of thirty people milling in and out of the space to the right of the building. Crime scene investigators, policemen, and other personnel talked in hushed voices. You spotted a clearing in the sea of people and knew that’s where the victim would be, given a wide berth per Hotch’s instruction.

The team hung out at the edge of the circle watching Reid, who was kneeling in front of the body slumped against the side of the apartment building. Moving closer, you could tell he was in the middle of one of his spiels, gesturing wildly while the everyone nodded along. You joined the group that had formed around him and caught the middle of what seemed to be a hypothesis about victimology.

“ -no patterns, obviously, but if we assume similar characteristics would be present in all his victims, it’s hard to discern what statement he could be making. Positing a male in his mid-to-late twenties is statistically most likely, but stalkers of this age group also frequently have some sort of sexual motivation, and if the autopsy is consistent with what we can observe now,” he gestured to the body, “I don’t think that’s the case here.”

Throughout his speech, you’d been scrutinizing the victim - a brunette women who looked to be no older than 20, arranged in a half-sitting position against the wall behind her. There was no blood anywhere you could see, in fact, she barely looked dead at all, likely thanks to the below-freezing temperatures last night that had put a pause on the early stages of decomposition. Pinned to her shirt was a white envelope that bore an ominous message in bold, black ink:

“For my friends at the BAU.”

Not hard to guess who had killed this woman.

“Can you determine cause of death, Spence?” Prentiss asked, her arms folded.

“I’m not sure, but if I had to guess…” he used his pen to push the victim’s hair to the side, exposing a neck mottled with stark blue bruises.

“Anger, then,” you offered, speaking to the psychological drivers behind strangulation, “but I doubt we’ll find any sign of sexual assault. The unsub made it clear that his disdain is directed towards us; it’s not likely that would extend to his victim.”

The rest of the team nodded in thought, but Hotch looked at you in surprise, as if just noticing your presence. As his eyes glued on yours, his face changed, and he grabbed your arm in an unpleasantly tight grip.

“Open the note. I’ll just be a moment.”

Unaware of his boss’ sudden change in demeanor and the vice on your elbow, Morgan gloved up and reached for the envelope. Hotch, meanwhile, unceremoniously dragged you down the alleyway and around to the deserted back side of the building.

“What the hell?” you hissed, yanking your arm out of his grip.

“Did you fail to look in a mirror before you came down here?” Hotch’s narrowed stare betrayed nothing but contempt, and you scrambled to determine the implication of his question.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to take a shower before looking at the dead body? I did the best I could, it seemed urgent -”

“No,” he snapped, “I’m referring to the fact that your neck looks worse off than our victim’s does.”

You processed his words for a moment before the implication hit you.

“Are you talking about the hickies?! Christ, Hotch, I’ll get a scarf then. Just give me a second!”

“Please do. I’d like my agents to appear professional, not like they’re college kids coming off a one night stand.”

His words halted your stomp back into the building, and you turned back, furious.

“You put them there! How is this my fault?”

“I didn’t think I would have to be this explicit about the fact that I don’t want the fact that we had sex last night broadcast to everyone at the crime scene.”

You gaped at him in disbelief.

“Are you embarrassed or something? I’m sorry if you regret what happened, but you don’t need to lash out at me like this -”

“I’m not lashing out,” he interrupted, “I’m informing you of my expectations for my agents. Is there a problem?”

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to smack that perfectly raised eyebrow and controlled expression right off his face. But he was boxing you in - speaking to you as your boss and not the man you slept with last night, and as much as you hated him for it, your sense of self-preservation won out.

“There’s no problem,” you mumbled, unable to make eye contact as you slipped past him and around the building.

You made it halfway up the stairwell before the tears started flowing. Had you really thought sleeping with him was going to change something? That he was going to ask you to be his fucking girlfriend, like he wasn’t the chief of your unit and you weren’t a twenty-something intern? For all you knew, he did this all the time. His level of skill in the area certainly made it seem like he did.

That wasn’t true, though, you knew it. He may not reveal much, but you could tell it had been a fraught decision to let your relationship develop the way it had. Perhaps even a decision he regretted now - and it certainly seemed so, given his behavior.

Wiping tears on your sleeve, you fumbled with the spare key he’d given you to his apartment and walked in. You glanced in the mirror by the entrance and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. Hotch wasn’t exaggerating when he likened the marks to strangulation - indigo smudges, still peppered with the angry red of burst capillaries, circled your throat.

It was a juvenile, possessive, ridiculous display, and Hotch was absolutely right to label it unprofessional. And yet, the thought that you’d walked onto the scene bearing the marks he’d given you filled you with a thrill so intense you had to brace yourself against the entryway table and clamp your legs together.

Breathe. There’s still a fucking murder scene downstairs.

You steadied yourself and headed for your duffel bag, where you’d thankfully packed a scarf in preparation for the cold snap that was predicted to hit the state this week. Midway through unzipping your bag, though, your eyes landed on his dresser and the devil sitting on your shoulder, buzzing with a deadly combination of anger and arousal, whispered a terrible, reckless idea in your ear.

***

You practically skipped downstairs to rejoin the team, who appeared to be engaged in a lively debate about the contents of the envelope Morgan was holding. After gloving up, you reached out a hand towards him.

“Can I read it?”

He handed it over, distracted by another stream of consciousness from Reid. Hotch took note of your return and glanced in your direction before turning back to the conversation.

You pretended to read the note and waited for him to notice.

You waited all of three seconds.

He whipped his head back so comically fast you struggled to suppress a snort, and you knew exactly what he was looking at. A midnight blue cashmere scarf, nicked from his dresser and wrapped artfully around your neck to cover the bruises, just like he’d asked. The first compliment you’d ever paid him was in regards to this scarf; tentatively whispered when he’d worn it to a chilly 2 am crime scene. He’d accepted the compliment passively, but the optimistic part of you had noted that he seemed to wear it much more frequently after that.

You weren’t entirely sure what statement you were intending to make by wearing it, but his reaction told you you’d certainly succeeded at provoking something.

Morgan reached back out for the note you were still pretending to read and dropped it in an evidence bag. If he noticed Hotch steaming from the ears next to you, he didn’t say so.

“They’re ready to pack everything up and head back to the lab. Let’s meet ‘em there?”

Everyone nodded in the affirmative and headed back to the SUVs.

“You riding with me?” Morgan asked, nudging your ribs with an elbow.

“No,” Hotch answered for you, an unseen hand suddenly gripping the back of your neck. “She’s not.”

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lambourngb · 2 years

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tagged meme - 11 questions

I was tagged by @adamsparirsh - and basically interrogated here 😂 Was I only supposed to answer your questions or all of them? I went with all of them because I’m bored and my adhd is not letting me do much else. Sorry and thank you!

33 questions and answers - very self-indulgent of me.

1. What social media are you most active on and why?

tumblr my behated- but I am trying to change that in 2022.

2. What’s your most detested fanfiction trope?

oh, that’s a strong word detested... I guess spite-fic aimed at a main character.

3. If you have to bring something homemade to work/a party/a potluck, what are you bringing?

in a world where I have time to make something- probably baked strata or 5-cheese baked pasta.

4. If you’d make the choice now and easily could afford whatever school you wanted, would you start studying something, and if yes, what?

If I didn’t have PTSD about college/testing because of years of undiagnosed ADHD... I guess anthropology?

5. What was your favourite childhood movie?

The Man from Snowy River- and still is.

6. What’s something that’s clearly trash but you enjoy nonetheless? Can be a book, a movie, a game…

the fast and the furious movies - I know Paul Walker is problematic but man, the homoerotic tension in those early movies was ... inspiring.

7. If you had the means (and the energy), would you go full interior designer!Eddie and change out your decor every season?

No, but I would want to remodel my bathroom (just the once!)

8. Do you have a favourite band/artist?

Jason Isbell

9. What kind of vacation is your dream vacation?

something that combines the beaches and the mountains- I really like riding on the beach and waterfalls. Basically take me back to Iceland.

10. What’s your favourite chocolate?

I only eat chocolate when I’m PMSing, I don’t like the taste otherwise, so Hershey Bar. It’s dull lol

11. Who’s the most interesting person you’ve met?

Stanley Tucci

1. What is your favorite month and why?

I also love October - the heat breaks enough to be pleasant without being cold.

2. What is your least favorite month and why?

December. I’m not very good at holidays

3. Have you ever sung karaoke? If not, do you want to? If so, what’s your go-to song?

I have a terrible singing voice, so no. I admire people who aren’t self-concious.

4. What’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?

It wasn’t given to me personally but I read a Captain Awkward column many years ago, where she said “people who like you will act like they like you” - harder in the digital age, and also I have a habit of not noticing time passing, an ADHD thing, where I think I just saw someone but it really 4 months ago. So that advice has helped me in friendships.. and her second best advice is, you can say no to things by saying “That does not work for me”. It shuts down discussion, and keeps people from negotiating past your No.

5. If you could take a one-week vacation right now (money/responsibilities not an issue), where would you go and what would you do?

I’d like to go to the Maldives. Some place warm right now.

6. What’s the first movie you remember making you cry?

The never-ending story - Artax in the mud was hard on a horse-crazy girl.

7. What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? The best?

I still work for this company, but I used to be an assistant to the position I have, and the supervisor was lazy, controlling, ignorant of the business and threatened by my work ethic- she frequently slashed my hours so she could be seen as important but then the work load got to be too much and she was let go. I used to repeat to myself every morning the Sun Tzu proverb “I shall wait by the river and the bodies of my enemies will float by me” - and it did come true. I got her job. I have outlasted anyone who doesn’t work hard and honestly. But my friends thought I was stupid for staying. I was extremely patient and put up with almost 2 years of bullshit, but now I’m my own boss basically.

8. What was your favorite board game to play as a kid?

RISK - I was almost an International Affairs major.

9. If you could be best friends with any fictional character, who would it be?

Veronica Mars - at least season 1 girl.

10. What is a really random talent you have?

I have good recall of information/things I read.

11. If you could have an hour-long conversation with any historical figure, who would it be?

I would love to talk to David Bowie.

1. societal expectations be damned, what would you do to your hair if you could?

I wish I had the money for extensions - I have very thin hair, and would love to have thick wavy hair.

2. what is your favorite tv show and why?

Lewis - and I have to ignore Lawrence Fox being a IRL prick, but I loved the whole Oxford gentle detective vibe, everyone had big libraries or gardens, Lewis was a crusty but kind man grieving his wife, Hathaway was a repressed but clever partner. I really can escape and watch that show.

3. is there a character (in any book, movie, show, play, etc) that you relate to? why do you relate to them?

Michael Burnham on Discovery - mainly because I spent my chiildhood and some of my adulthood trying to be as emotionless as possible, and the way she did the same after being raised on Vulcan resonates. The safety of knowledge and being competent over actually talking to messy people... oh yes, very much a baby L thing.

4. what is a phrase that you say all the time, and has anyone picked it up from you?

“that does not work for me” - and I taught it to all my female friends, especially the ones who bent over backwards to make some dude happy without getting anything in return.

5. what was your favorite age to be and why?

Tough question... the times when I had less responsibility, I also was very alone and lonely, and no control over my life (childhood). I spent my 20s feeling like I needed to measure myself against other people’s success - and therefore was miserable because I felt like a failure. 30s had more peace personally but that’s when my mom’s drinking really got out of control. I guess when I was 18 and my first semester at college - I really liked that time of my life even though I was very dysfunctional with my un-diagnosed depression/adhd - but consequences hadn’t sunk in yet? I’m hoping my favorite age is still to come.

6. who is someone you would like to speak to, dead or alive? what would you ask them?

I never met my mom’s mom or dad. I would like to meet them, see if I could figure out what happened to my mom as a child/young adult- she papered over the cracks for a long time but now with her dementia, you’re getting glimpses of trauma.

7. what’s your favorite season and why?

Fall. I have an extensive boot collection and I like to wear them dresses - but every dress with a sleeve is annoying to me, lol. So I need cool enough weather for a light cardigan but not too hot for knee-high boots.

8. how would you describe yourself in three words? how would your friends describe you in three words?

Loyal, inquisitive, and empathetic - and my friends would probably call me logical, wry, and cooperative.

9. do you have a favorite flower? what is it?

Iris - I can’t grow them, but I love tall bearded irises. in deep purples.

10. what is your favorite type of article of clothing to wear? (i.e. sweaters, jeans, t-shirts, soft socks, etc)

a sleeveless cotton dress or tunic - if I’m home alone, the shorter the better lol.

11. do you have a favorite card game? what is it?

Gin Rummy - it’s something my dad and I would play for hours, particularly at the beach. the beach required being completely unplugged, so playing cards on the towel under the umbrella. We also used to play watching baseball on television.

tagging anyone who got to the end of this - please do it and tag me in return

#personal stuff #thanks for the tag #i just needed to talk some of this out #and be distracted by it #long post #self-indulgent naval gazing

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kickingitwithkirk · 3 years

Text

Greetings from Austin pt. III

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

WC: 3825

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, biphobia, homophobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility/surrogacy

*flirting, m/m oral sex, Jensen’s insecurities are coming out, Jared gets arrested, both get counseling

A/N: This part consists of several time jumps over four month period.

A/N II: Hey, sorry took me a way longer to get done than planned, rewrote Oct 23 a dozen times alone and hoping makes sense, trying to flesh out characters more and has some stuff that plays into story line in later parts.

Part II

Masterlist

@winchesterandbeyondbingo square filled-Jensen Ackles

*Series Inspired by this art.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

September 8th

7:30 am

Jensen was sitting in the makeup chair clenching his extra strong coffee container to help warm his hands. He’d spent a second, uncomfortable night in his trailer on location as Vancouver was having an unusual cold snap this time of year and with the covid restrictions the director decided that everyone needed to stay on site.

While he wasn’t happy about the weather, missing his own personal heater but at the same time grateful for a brief break from Jared now that they were heading towards the next phase of starting their family.

Jensen jokingly said they needed a code name since they were planning on keeping their plans a secret, even from their families, until the pups were born, playfully suggesting a cartoon from their childhoods.

Of course with Jared’s weird sense of humor, he loved it and started throwing ideas like operation: pound puppies.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Frieda said as she applied a concealer under his eyes to hide the dark smudges from not sleeping well.

“Huh?”

“You asked about my new job and haven’t heard anything I’ve said, wanna talk about it?”

“Sorry, not focusing very well today.”

“Yeah, we’re all feeling out of sorts with this being the last couple days.”

Jensen couldn’t believe he was down to his last two days of filming.

“Too bad this virus messed everything up, it would’ve been a hell of a send off if everybody could have been here.”

Alex and Misha had left right after they’d finished but Jim Beaver was back for the ending. It was only right for Bobby Singer to be there at the end, having been such a pivotal character in the brothers lives.

Frieda continues chatting about random things while finishing his makeup. A PA stuck his head in calling Jensen to the set. He stepped out of the trailer and smiled seeing his Baby sitting near the building being used as the exterior of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

***

September 12th

“Jen, I’m taking out the bags,” Jared calls out seconds before the apartment's front door shut.

Jensen was doing one last check around the place for any forgotten anything. Satisfied, he walked into the living room containing neatly marked boxes ready to be shipped back to Texas, relieved they had downsized from the big house Jared had years ago.

He stopped to gaze out the picture window when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, molding his back to the muscular chest of his mate, who rested his chin on his shoulder quietly saying, “I’m gonna miss this view.” Jensen hummed in agreement tipping his head back as Jared nuzzled his neck.

“We need to get going if we’re gonna make Seattle by seven,” Jared softly muttered as they’d stood there for a few heartbeats longer before releasing him. They walked to the door and Jensen turned once more to gaze out the window at the view of Vancouver.

***

September 21st

“This has been a great trip but man, I’ll be glad to be in our own bed tonight.” Jared remarks as they drive past a green highway sign saying Austin 312.

“Can’t wait,” Jensen drowsily says having not slept much the last couple days. They had decided to road trip it back to Texas, stopping at a few places they had wanted to visit for awhile.

Jared somehow managed to finagal, okay so his mind numbing blow job combined with those lethal long fingers that always makes Jensen agree to anything got him a couple extra days in southern Colorado.

Jensen enjoyed the beautiful scenery and hiking in the mountains but hated camping out. Well, it wasn’t technically roughing it the way Jared liked but still.. a frigging yurt in late September?

Oy vay, what he did for love.

The sound of Jared singing along to some classic country song on the radio as he drove finally put Jensen completely out.

***

October 23rd

Turning from the open fridge with a puzzled expression on his face, Jared senses the same vague something he’s felt God knows how many times in the last couple months.

Shutting the door he walked over to the island counter where his husband was seated pushing his unfinished dinner around on his plate.

“Jen, what’s going on? Are you worried about the implantation? Dr. Rodgers said the embryos were healthy and optimistic the surrogate took this first try.”

What Jensen wants to ask, the question that’s plagued him since that day in August choosing their Omega surrogate...how the hell does he phrase it without upsetting Jared?

“Did you choose her because you knew she’d be the one I’d pick?”

Jensen slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide, disbelieving he blurted it out.

Jared worked to find a response squeaking an actual squeak before he could get control over his vocals, “That’s what I’ve been sensing!” Gripping the edge of the counter with his big hands, “Are you seriously going there again? I was honest about our interactions when I realized she was the one I knocked down at the clinic and FYI, you weren’t exactly in full control either Alpha!”

Jensen clenched his teeth at being reminded his inner need to be in control at all times slipped.

“I’ve racked my brains trying to figure it out how to ask something like that without upsetting you!” Jensen yells getting up and pacing around the kitchen.

Jared huffed, “So all this time instead of talking to me, you’ve conjured up some..”

“For the last two years I’ve gotten the sense you feel somethings missing, kept telling myself it’s your unfulfilled biology. But ever since you meet that Omega you’ve been.. I can’t explain it and now I’m second guessing our marriage Ja....” his rant abruptly cut off.

Jared’s eyes were glowing red, pinning him with an eerie wolf expression, the intensity disconcerting him. “I chose you, my husband, my soulmate, my everything!“ The words should have been reassuring but Jared’s voice was pitiless, something Jensen's never heard pass from his lips before.

Jared took a deep breath and with normalcy returning said, “I love you Jensen and I thought you understood, for me, in my mind, both of us having pups with the same donor means my offspring won’t be seen as just step relations but will grow up having strong familial ties with JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin.”

Jensen started to speak when a low, reverberating growl from Jared warning him not to interrupt.

“I consciously listened to my inner wolf when it came to choosing the person who is biologically the Om of our children and I,” Jared emphasizes tapping his chest with his long index finger, ”have no regrets but apparently you do.” Taking a deep breath Jared drops a non sequitur, ”The dogs need to be fed,” and walks away.

At the sound of Jared’s SUV leaving Jensen’s legs gave out and he drops to the floor curling up in a fetal position wrapping his arms over his head. Arlo and Koda laid down, one on each side, cocooning him between them.

***

Thanksgiving

“The kids are in a tryptophan coma,” Jensen announces as he walks in through the kitchen's back door. He had followed Danneel home afterwards helping get JJ and the twins cleaned up and put to bed, “they’ll be out till Monday.”

“Good, cause I’m dead on my feet,” Jared replies yawning while loading the dishwasher. It had been their turn to host the holiday with Danneel, the kids, Clif, Jared’s siblings and their broods.

“I told you to wait and I’d help finish the cleanup when I got back.” Jensen said as Jared started the machine.

“I figured you’d wanna stay awhile and be too tired and I didn’t want to deal with it tomorrow. All that’s left is to put the trash and recycling out, could you grab it?”

“On it,” Jensen picked up the bags walking around the side of the house dropping them into their designated receptacles.

When he came back in Jared was switching off the lights downstairs. They made their way up to the bedroom taking turns in the bath getting ready for bed.

Jensen was sitting with his back against the headboard checking his messages when Jared drops heavily next to him, “I plan on sleeping for the next three days.” He mutters resting his head against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Sounds good to me babe, I’m glad we didn’t schedule anything extra this weekend, be nice to spend some time alone.” He finishes wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hmm, do you remember last year's Thanksgiving?”

Jared closed the kitchen pantries door, pushing Jensen against it seductively lowering his fox slanted eyes huskily whispering, “I’m so fucking horny I need my dick you now.”

“Dude, we’re re in my sisters...“

“..you’ll have to be quiet,” Jared dove in for a deep, dirty kiss, grinding against Jensen until he was begging to be fucked.

“You’re the one who got us busted..oh fuck Jensen..so fucking tight..fuck..not gonna last..then later I get Mac saying it sounded like your dick...”

“Okay..buuut,” Jared tilts his head slowly running his tongue up the column of Jensen’s neck, “you gotta admit,” hand slipping under his sleep shirt, “our sex life,” long fingers tip toe up the smooth, freckled chest, pads teasing his left nipple as Jared nibbles on his earlobe, ”is never boring.”

Jensen groans, dropping his arm, still clinching the phone, tipping his head to expose more of his neck to Jared’s wondrous lips, enjoying the scratch of his short beard.

“I thought you were sleeping the next three days.”

Jared answers by removing his hand and straddling his husband's thick thighs taken the phone placing it on the nightstand and starts nibbling along the other side of Jensen’s sensitive neck, working his way to his slightly raised claim mark flattening his tongue licking the ultra sensitive spot that always drives his Alpha wild.

Jensen slides his hands up Jared’s back finding a grip in his shortened hair, unhappy about how much he’s cut off for Walker, unable to tangle his thick fingers into the soft tresses like he used to.

Finding a purchase he pulls hard making Jared groan at the pleasurable sensation tips his head back till it’s the perfect angle for Jensen to run his tongue across those candy pink lips, teasing them open to grant him access, continues teasing, alternating between caressing Jared’s tongue with his and sucking on his lips.

Moaning, Jared rocks his hips seeking friction, breaks their kissing long enough to work Jensen's sleep shirt off. They end up wrestling a few moments before Jared tosses it as Jensen’s lips attack his more desperately.

Tapping Jared’s thigh, Jensen rolls them kneeling between sleep pant clad legs watching as Jared reaches up gripping the strategically placed bar in their custom made headboard with both hands, his pecs flexing in anticipation of what’s to come.

Not breaking eye contact Jensen bends forward, his lips a hair's breadth from Jared’s, slowly slides backwards hovering, caressing the acres of golden skin beneath him with only his warm breath, pausing to hook his fingers in the pants waistband and pulling them with him as he continues journeying south.

Slowly making his way back north he leaves wet, open mouth kisses along the now naked, extra long, muscular legs he loves, sucking on the insides of both thighs, nipping hard enough to leave marks before arriving at his designated stop.

He hasn’t even touched Jared’s beautiful cock yet it’s fully engorged, resting against his flat stomach vigorously leaking precome. Jensen dips his tongue into his bellybutton lapping up the liquid collecting in it, cause fuck, he’s loves how more sweet than salty Jared’s always tasted.

Hips rolling Jared rubs his cockhead against Jensen’s tongue and he kitten licks the dribbling slit before resting his head on Jared’s lower stomach and wrapping his lips around the velvety head.

Shifting his grip on the bar Jared’s makes nonsensical noises, toes curling at the mixed sensations of his mates silky beard tickling his lower regions while sucking on his cockhead, alternates swirling his tongue over the nerves underneath and teasing his slit sending spikes of pleasure radiating through him.

After all these years Jared’s still amazed at Jensen’s knowledge of his body, his ability to keep him on the edge of not enough for however long he’s in the mood to play.

“..pleease...need to cum...got to..so fucking..uhh..Alpha!”

Raising up on a forearm Jensen starts bobbing up and down his shaft, pausing briefly on each downward pass, working his throat open to take Jared further in until he’s nose deep in dark, trimmed pubic hair. Holding his mate's substantial cock in his throat swallows around him as Jared’s knot inflates, pushing his jaws apart till it’s too much.

Letting the knot slip out from between his plump lips Jensen wraps a hand firmly around it and starts vigorously bobbing drawing out a litany of obscene noises, feels Jared’s balls drawing up and backs off swallowing the warm, thick, spurting liquid.

Leisurely licking until Jared hissed, too sensitive for anymore kisses the tip one last time crawls back up the bed searching for his pillow and face plants on it.

“Dude, you’ve finally sucked out my last brain cell.”

Purring deep in his chest, Jensen gives Jared a self satisfied smirk, who mutters, “wasn’t trying to give you a bigger head.”

Rolling onto his side Jensen displays his turgid cock needing attention, “okay, he’s the bigger head,” Jared concedes reaching down running his fingers over the weeping tip, wetting them with precome spreads it over the shaft firmly fisting Jensen’s pulsing thickness, moving his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly.

“So,” his honeyed voice lowers an octave watching Jensen dissolving into a breathy mess, “how does he want me?”

Jensen opens his mouth to answer when a phone rings. Glaring over his shoulder, “not mine,” he growls. Still stroking him Jared stretches for his, “it’s the clinic..hello? Dr. Rodgers, hey, how are you sir?” He lets go sitting up against the headboard.

Why’s the doctor calling them at such an odd time, on a holiday no less?

Jared's brow wrinkles before he turns to Jensen, eyes sparkling breaks out his wondrous smile making his dimples pop.

“Jensen, she’s pregnant!”

Jared's practically bouncing on their bed like he’s on a massive sugar high discussing what comes next with the doctor. Jensen feels his erection rapidly diminishing, gets up heading into the bath and turns on the shower.

Climbing in he crosses his arms against the far wall, resting his forehead against them closing his eyes as hot water bounces across his broad shoulders.

Jensen knows he should be elated. Jared’s getting the pup (or pups) he’s desired for years and the possibility of being a father himself again. Instead, his heart seized up in conflict.

***

After that god awful argument in October he ended up at Josh’s, who confessed his mate and him were seeing a counselor because they were having marital issues too. Spending the night drinking and reflecting Jensen came home the next morning to a still angry Jared cause he didn’t know where the fuck his husband was all night.

Filling him in about his talk with Josh, Jared seemed somewhat mollified but a few nights later...

Walker star Jared Padalecki arrested near the one year anniversary of Stereotype bar altercation.

· Jared Padalecki was arrested once again in Austin, Texas, early Sunday morning on one count of public intoxication…

When he got released Jared sat Jensen down pleading with him to sit in on his next therapy session, saying they couldn’t keep going on like this, it was tearing him apart.

He wants..no..needs Jensen to completely open up, stop trying to protect him and discuss what’s going on in his head, what he’s really feeling.

Jared’s therapist started off informing both of them he wasn’t a marriage counselor but after a brief conversation with Jared knew the situation was having a detrimental impact on his mental health.

He listened to them separately, then together, about their observations and thoughts on each other’s behaviors came up with a hypothesis:

Since Jared’s last depressive episode, his random thoughts/emotions were feeding more into Jensen’s deep seated insecurities over his mate’s open, flirtatious personality and how he perceives others attraction/interactions to him.

And now Jared’s inner wolf is demonstrating an intense attraction to an Omega, something never encountered before with past preferences in Beta females, with this new dynamic Jensen didn’t know how to handle it.

Jensen opened and closed his mouth several times sputtering before saying this was complete bullshit and stormed out.

***

Lost in thought Jensen didn’t notice his husband stepping into the open shower stall until his considerable frame was blocking the water, Jared’s voice drew him out of his musings.

“I can hear you thinking clear in the other room.”

Cupped Jensen’s face between his large hands he gazed into those spring colored eyes that captured his heart the moment he looked into them years ago, “Hey, no matter what happens next, we’re good.”

***

December 16th

Jared was sitting in his chair chatting with Lindsey and Keegan while the crew was finishing setting up for the next scene when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number but excuses himself, stepping away for some privacy answering.

“Hey, everything okay?” Lindsay asked after he hung up, concerned by the visible tension rolling off the big Alpha.

“Umm..I don’t know, I need to make another call...” Jared said, waving the phone, “yeah, let us know if you need anything.” Keegan says and Jared nodded his thanks.

The phone rang three times, “Hey Clif, I need a favor.”

***

December 19th

Clif pulled the SUV into the parking lot, “Are you sure this is the right place?” Jared inquires looking around taking in the old motel located in a very questionable area of Austin.

“This is the name the guy mentioned.” Clif replied, getting out heading for the office. Couple minutes later he climbed back in, “the manager said the laundry out back.” He started the vehicle and drove to the rear of the property.

Clif got out again and knocked on the building's door. An older Hispanic woman answered engaging him in a brief conversation before stepping back inside.

Clif nodded to Jared and as he got out of the vehicle that piquant scent hit him seconds before the door reopened. The person he’d spent days searching for froze in the doorway upon seeing him.

***

December 22nd

Jensen, claiming out of the Uber, grabbed his bag thanking the driver, walked up the front stone pathway relieved to be home from L. A. after a hopefully final costume fitting for his new role as Soldier Boy, this flying back and forth every week for the last couple months had gotten old real quick and he was looking forward to enjoying the holidays at home.

Jared’s parents were coming tomorrow and staying for a few days as was Danneel and their pups. Josh said he was still planning on dropping by a few hours Christmas Day since he and Mac were scheduled to spend most of the holiday with their parents.

Jensen felt that mixture of anger and sadness he got thinking about his parents. He was raised in their church and though he never believed in it, respected their choice.

Too bad they couldn’t reciprocate.

***

Alan and Donna belonged to an ultra conservative church. The foundations of child rearing was to be found in the good book and in the Ackles household-spare the rod, spoil the child-was gospel.

When they were growing up neither parent was the physically or emotionally demonstrative type, only showing their offspring a reserved affection, especially in public.

The saving grace was their Beta nanny who gave them unconditional love, especially Jensen, who was shy as a child already knowing he was different from his siblings. She instilled the confidence in them to discover who they truly were inside and encouraged Jensen to come out before moving to California.

Shortly after graduating he told his family about his bisexuality and his boyfriend was moving to L.A. with him.

Alan and Donna tried to stop him. He was to go to their pastor and confess his transgressions, beg forgiveness for his sins against the church and its teachings, threatening to pull the agreed upon six month financial support while he auditioned for parts before going to college if it didn’t work out.

Jensen refused, packed up, took his boyfriend and left. He got his first break shortly after and quickly learned Hollywood didn’t care what his sexual orientation was as long as he kept it behind closed doors.

His management agency decided early on to promote Jensen as the good guy/boyfriend type. They also set him up on dates to events with many up and coming female artists of the time. He had no problem playing along when he wasn’t actually dating a woman.

His big break came on the CW. After co-starring in a couple series for the network he was offered the chance to be a lead in a new series created by Eric Kripke.

At the audition he met former Gilmore Girls heartthrob, Jared Padalecki, flashing his infectious smile, dimples for days and the most beautiful, incredible color shifting eyes Jensen’s ever seen, he was done for.

Jensen might not have his biological parents in his life anymore but his now in-laws, the complete opposite of the Ackles, helped fill that hole.

It’s easy to see where Jared’s personality comes from. His Om, Sherrie, is overly affectionate, excessively physical and verbal with everyone she considers family, biological or not.

The first time he accompanied Jared home on a holiday break Jensen was literally bowled over by the five foot nothing Omega and instantly became part of her brood.

***

Barley getting the front door open Jensen is hit with the piquant scent of orange blossoms and spices he couldn’t quite place.

Dropping his carry-on bag in the foyer he followed the scent further into the house. Arlo sat up near the large picture windows facing the backyard where he and Koda are napping and gets up coming over to greet him.

“Hey big guy, where’s daddy at?” Jensen asked rubbing around his ears like he liked having thought Jared would still be on set before the holiday break.

He heads towards the kitchen where the scent seems to be coming from, “Babe is that coffee shop back open, what’s it called, has those sweet rolls you're obsessed with..” he abruptly stopped and blinks not believing what was in front of him.

More accurately who was in front of him.

“Babe is in his office and dinner will be ready in twenty.”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

***

tbc

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnaintx @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

#jensen ackles #jared padalecki #j2 husbands #winchesterandbeyondbingo #alpha!jensen ackles #alpha!jared padalecki #alpha!jensenxalpha!jaredxomega!ofc #j2 au #j2 fanfic #j2alphas #a/b/o ofc #spn #supernatural #slow burn

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concerningwolves · 3 years

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Hey I'm doing a short story for class about an autistic girl who discovers she have telekinesis and I want to knows how to portray her properly and how beint autustic affect her powets with makint autism sounds baf

Hi anon! I’m very sorry if I’m answering this too late for you; I barely had time to even look at my inbox in October and November, and then when I got time to do so this month, I got overwhelmed by the backlog. Nonetheless, I’ll answer this and hope that even if it’s too late for your original purpose, something in it will help you (/help anyone else who reads this) :]

AUTISM, SUPERPOWERS & FAIR REPRESENTATION

Okay, so, the basic answer to “how not to make autism sound bad” is approach the story with compassion and/or empathy – but that’s a very broad answer and probably not overly helpful for specifics. I’ll start with the “how to represent autism well” part and then break down the superpower-specific stuff from there.

1) Autism should be an integral part of your characters’ personhood, but not their entire personality

As an autistic, I struggle to define where my autism ends and my personhood (i.e., my sense of the “self”) begins, because they’re so deeply entwined with one another. Autism is a condition that alters how I think and interact with the world, and therefore profoundly impacts how I perceive both myself and the things around me. That doesn’t mean, however, that my only personality trait is autism. It all gets very convoluted and existential – would I still be ‘me’ if you removed autism? What is ‘me’? Is it even fair to think of autism as a separate Thing? – but it is worth considering if you want to get inside your autistic character’s head.

A trap that allistic creators tend to fall into is “this character likes [X] / does [X] because they are autistic”. For example, I once saw someone say that their OC likes blue because it’s a calming colour and therefore sensory-safe. This is a valid process on its own: I also like pale blue (+ other pastel shades) because it’s a sensory-safe colour! But where many allistics fall down is in not considering that an autistic character’s likes, dislikes and hobbies don’t have to relate to their autism.

Although the show has its flaws, I do think that Sam Gardener from Netflix’s Atypical is a positive example of an autistic character just liking something because they like it. His special interest is all to do with penguins and antartic wildlife/explorations, and he also enjoys art as a hobby because... he just does. That’s not to say these things don’t intersect – he takes a scientific illustration class in college precisely because it combines two things he likes; it’s also fair to say that autism gives him an edge in drawing because autism brain is excellent at grasping theory/technicalities. But ultimately it’s nice to have an autistic character whose interests and personality traits go beyond the stereotypical special interest.

For more on representing autistic characters, check out [this post] where I go into a bit more depth. (NOTE: that post is on my list of things that I want to revise/rewrite/flesh out, so it might change soon, but the basic stuff is still the same).

2) Autism isn’t inherently “bad” – but that doesn’t mean it’s without issues, either

Autism is not the devastating tragedy that neurotypicals like to present, but it does come with its own difficulties and pitfalls that you should acknowledge if you want to write a well-rounded autistic character. There’s often discourse/debates on my dash about whether it’s fair to call autism a disability. I’d say it is – there are definitely aspects of autism that are disabling, i.e., sensory overload, burnout, trouble communicating, etc. – but it isn’t a disability in the way that allistics/abled people think.

Some aspects of autism are “double edged”, in that they have useful and troublesome sides. Speaking for myself, hyper-empathy means that I’m good at grasping why emotions Do The Thing, which is incredibly useful in filling in gaps in my social sense! But. It also means that I struggle to draw a line between my own emotions and someone else’s, and am simply awful at creating healthy emotional boundaries. As the writer, you create good representation by showing both sides. Let your character have meltdowns! Let them have trouble in social situations! Let them get burnt out or overwhelmed! But also make sure to show that this doesn’t make them inherently burdensome to other characters, and explore the good/neutral aspects of autism, too.

3) So, how would all of this impact superpowers?

A lot of that depends on your world’s magic/superpower system. Some things to consider are:

Does your character need to be concentrating?

Do emotions influence how controlled the power is?

Does the power take a physical or mental toll on the user?

etc.

These are laws you ought to think about as part of worldbuilding, regardless of a characters’ neurotype or ability, but I do believe that autism will have an impact on how a character interacts with their powers. For example, many autistic people have difficulty with fine motor skills and spatial awareness, either as part of autism or due to a co-existing condition [1]. This could theoretically cause trouble if a character needs to gauge personal space/use spatial perception when using telekinesis to direct objects. Where emotions effect a power, emotional dysregulation or rejection sensitive dysphoria could also come into play by disrupting a characters’ concentration or control.

Make sure to show your character working with or around these sorts of issues, and keep a balance between the pros and cons. If sensory input throws off her concentration, what are ways she can get around that? Earplugs for noise, dark glasses for light sensitivity, seamless clothes, headphones... etc etc. On the more negative side, I can only imagine the chaos I might cause during a meltdown if I had telekinesis: objects flying everywhere, lightbulbs bursting, general pandemonium. That said, telekinesis would be great if I could levitate myself and just hang there without any sensory input. Also useful if I needed to get stuff and didn’t have the energy to move because of burnout, or if I could use telekinesis to “weigh down” a blanket on top of me during meltdowns. There are some really fun possibilities here!

Another way to avoid showing autism as a burden/something bad is to give your character a support network and/or accommodations in the story. Have your character find ways to work around issues just like a neurotypical person would, yes, but also have other characters be understanding and ready to help. Thriving support systems are just as important as the autistic character themself.

Basically, address the fact that some aspects of autism are difficult to cope with/require aid but don't overtly focus on that, you know? Your character can get upset, frustrated, or be resigned. She can beat herself up! All autistic people live with this feeling of "not good enough". But show her overcoming this, show her with a good support system, and show her being a person as complex and developed as any other character.

FOOTNOTE(S)

[1] general practise in diagnostic circles is to avoid diagnosing with things like dyspraxia if another developmental disorder is present (i.e., autism), but we’re still learning about what the big ice-cream bar of autism actually covers. What traits an autistic person has can vary hugely from one person to another.

#Anonymous #autistic characters #writing advice #writeblr #superpowers & disabilities

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found (Final)

Final Chapter! Special shout out to @striving-artist who has been waiting since October 2019 for her turn on the commission list. This storyline was one I had never considered and wholly enjoyed writing, I loved the different versions of Winteriron we got to meet in this fic and as always, I loved re-writing the movies to better fit our HeadCanons.

@striving-artist thank you for trusting my words and commissioning me!

Cheers!

MASTERLIST HERE

******************

“Mr. Stark?” Steve knocked on the wall of the living room before coming inside. “Your uh-- your robot butler let me in, I hope I’m not intruding.”

“You’re certainly not intruding but I will absolutely put you out on your spangled ass if you call me Mr. Stark again.” Tony did up a few buttons on his shirt and then stood to shake the Captain’s hand. “Please, it’s just Tony.”

“Tony.” Steve grinned. “Sorry, old habits die hard. I might not be the upstanding citizen everybody likes to say I was, but it sure is hard to drop those sir’s and ma’ams.”

“Did you call Auntie Peggy ma’am when you saw her again?” Tony motioned for Steve to sit. “I heard you only managed to see her the one time before she passed, and you couldn’t show up to the funeral without revealing the whole out-of-the ice-thing.”

“I did only get to see her the one time close to the end, but Tony believe me, I called Peggy ma’am even when we were in bed.” Steve deadpanned, and Tony snorted a laugh until the Captain said, “No seriously. Seriously.”

“I’d say I was surprised by that, but Auntie was far too open with the details of her past for me to be surprised she liked to be called ma’am in bed.” Tony laughed louder at the Captain’s semi-horrified face. “But hey, I’d rather not talk about my dearly departed Auntie and her bedroom gymnastics with the still weirdly young guy in my living room. What can I do for you today, Captain? Come by to see James?”

“Actually came by to see you.” Steve sat down and spread his arms out along the backrest of the couch. “See how you were doing and if there was anything I could do to help you along the way.”

“Well, I’m doing fine.” Tony flipped his shirt open to show the Captain the still beautifully blue arc reactor and the distinct lack of black sludge in his veins. “Close to a month of rest and relaxation and the palladium’s pretty much out of my system, my mental focus is back to a hundred and ten percent according to the tests I’m sort of obsessively taking, and now that I can eat without vomiting, I’ve even put on some weight. Doing just fine.”

And then with a smile, “And no offence Captain, but I doubt there’s much you and your pretty muscles could do to solve something like how to create and stabilize a viable element that very well might be the key to unlocking clean, sustainable power for generations to come.”

“Clean sustainable power for generations.” Steve repeated. “Gonna get all that from the battery in your chest?”

“The one in my chest is just a first step, and now that I have a new lease on life?” Tony inclined his head towards a set of blue prints on the side table. “There will be one powering my new place in New York, Stark Tower.”

“I’ve seen the plans.” Steve nodded. “It’s ugly. Big mark on the New York skyline, what uh-- what does Tasha call it? Some sort of phallic over compensation?”

“Ms. Romanov’s wit wounds me even from afar.” Tony snorted. “And it’s Tasha now, huh? You two gotten any closer to dating, or are you still fore-playing by way of intense fire arms training and weirdly long early morning runs?”

“Eh, we’ve moved up to foreplay by way of Terminator movies and Brazilian Ju-jitsu.” Steve replied as if he didn’t see the absolute hilarity in his words. “Slow but steady wins the race, isn’t that right?”

“I’ve always been more of the drive by and snatch guy myself.” Tony tossed Steve a bottle of water then gestured briefly. “I know you didn’t come here to make small talk, and even though I’m always glad to see James’s best pal and a living American icon, let’s just get to it. What’s on your mind?”

“Sure.” Steve drained the water bottle in one go and wiped at his mouth. “We did some checking into Vanko and his story about your Dad. Turns out the claim and accusation was pretty solid, Tony. I know you want to believe the guy is just a victim of the circumstances out of his control but the fact is, his dad was a bonafide bad guy and by crashing the Grand Prix, Ivan headed right down the same road.”

“Damn it.” Tony swallowed and looked away. “That-- that sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You’d rather hear that Howard framed someone for the patent to some tech, than hear a baddie is a legitimate baddie?”

“I don’t know.” he shook his head. “After hearing that story he told about Howard, I wanted to believe he could be reformed or maybe it was a mis-understanding. I know what it feels like to be painted as a villain cos of my dad-or dad figure choices. Granted, I didn’t blow up a race, but what Stane had my company do is worse by about a thousand times. I hoped Ivan was the same. Maybe inadvertently a bad guy because of the stories he was told, even though the stories were lies.”

“Well they weren’t lies.” Steve countered. “And by the way, you’ve done a great job recovering from what Stane did. Turning around from ‘whoops we’re selling weapons of mass destruction to terrorists’ to being the guy blowing up the weapons-- you should be proud of yourself, Tony.”

“I’m proud of Pepper for not cracking under the pressure of keeping everything together while I went through some pretty spectacular self adjustments.” Tony deflected. “But thank you for telling me about Ivan. Any word on why Justin Hammer was asking about him so much the last few months?”

“No idea what that was about, but Fury moved Vanko before Hammer got too close.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Smarmy, self satisfied prick. The guy actually looks physically oily, like a damn snake.”

“He definitely does.” Tony grinned. “What else is on your mind, Steve?”

“You asked Fury to check in on Pierce?” Steve wanted to know, and Tony nodded. “For all sorts of need-to-know and security clearance reasons, you gotta stop asking questions.”

“The hell I will--”

“Tony.” Steve’s voice dropped at least an octave in warning. “I’m telling you. Stop asking questions. I can’t do what I need to do with you poking around.”

“No offence Captain but sometimes--”

“--sometimes problems are solved with brute strength and not politics.” Steve cut in again. “That’s how I dealt with bad guys back in war, that’s how I deal with them now. The people who did all that shit to Bucky don’t deserve to keep breathing and by the Dawn’s Early Light, they won’t keep breathing, you understand?”

“...you’re going to kill him.”

“I didn’t survive seventy years in the ice to wake up and deal with Nazi’s again.” Steve confirmed. “Don’t care which flag they’re marching under. Fury knows where I stand with that, and since there’s not much he could do to stop me anyway, he just wants me to be at least slightly subtle about it all.”

Tony put both hands up peacefully. “I’ll stay out of the way and let you work.”

“Thanks.” Steve folded his arms and tapped his foot on the floor a few times. “You aren’t going to make fun of me for swearing by the Dawn’s Early Light? I’ve been working on that line all week, thought for sure it would get a rise outta you. I’m trying it out for some new propaganda films SHIELD wants to put out to officially announce my return from the ice. What do you think? Too much?”

“I think it’s exactly the sort of patriotic bullshit we all expect a newly risen Captain America to say.” Tony confirmed. “And trust me, JARVIS recorded it, and it will be your ringtone and notification setting from now until the end of time.”

Steve cheesed a grin at him, and Tony gestured for the soldier to keep going. “Alright, baddies and Nazi’s aside, what else did you come this way for?”

The Captain leaned forward and clasped his hands loosely between his knees, rubbing his thumbs one over the other for a minute as he thought. “Tony, I wanted to talk to you about Bucky.”

“...sure?”

“I would like to know your intentions with my best friend.” Those All American blues hardened like steel and Tony raised his eyebrows in confusion. “I grew up watching Bucky hide everything about who he really was and that always killed me. But after everything that’s happened---”

Steve pursed his lips. “Tony, I won't stand to see Buck’s heart broken. I won’t.”

“Oh my god, is Captain America giving me the shovel talk?”

“Steve Rogers is giving you the ‘please treat my bud right’ talk.” Steve corrected. “The Captain America shovel talk will involve an actual shovel and it will be a one sided conversation, you understand?”

“Steve.” Tony chuckled and tapped pointedly at his watch, the one he’d finalized with the nano tech gauntlet design and was only ever 2.4 seconds from blowing someone through a wall. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m fuckin’ begging you to do right by my best friend.” the Captain answered bluntly. “I know all about that fancy gauntlet and if this were you coming into my house like this, I’d probably have put my shield through your throat and dropped you in the river--”

“Seriously, Captain America. Work on the violent tendencies.”

“--I was five and a half feet tall and didn’t break a hundred pounds until I was in my twenties.” Steve said bluntly. “You wanna talk small man syndrome and hair trigger temper, we can talk it all day. But for right now? I just need to know you’re not setting out to break Bucky’s heart now that you’re healthy and Tony Stark again.”

“Does Tasha know about your small man syndrome? Cos I feel like she would have several pointed and devastating below the belt comments to lay on you.” Tony quipped, and the tension broke when they laughed together. “Alright Spangles, less than thinly veiled threats and worries aside��.?”

“Bucky says you make him feel found.” Steve said softly. “Does he make you feel that way, Tony? Do you love him like he loves you?”

“Ask me again next week.” Tony took a sip of his own water. “Yeah?”

“What’s next week?”

“Next week is six months to the day that Bucky and I met in that diner over pancakes, so I figure that’s as good a day as any to uh....” Tony paused, shy. “To make it official. You think he’ll say yes if I pop the question?”

Steve’s eyes widened first in surprise and then in hope. “Can I be there to take a picture?”

“Oh absolutely not.”

“I’ll stand in the background and no one will notice!”

“You are six and a half feet of corn fed bullshit, Mr. Rogers. No way.”

“Tony, this is my best friend--!”

“And you can congratulate us along with everyone else when we make the announcement at a dinner date to be determined.”

“I’ve waited seventy years to see Bucky happy!”

“Not a chance.”

“Damn you Stark!” Steve burst out, and James walked in just in time to hear Tony crack up laughing over it.

“Stevie.” He tossed his friend a salute, then bent and kissed Tony for a long minute. “What’cha doing cussin’ at my fella?”

“Over reacting when he doesn’t get his way.” Tony pulled James down onto the couch and turned obediently into his arms, snuggling close to his left side. “The usual. “

“That is not my usual.” Steve huffed and James corrected with a quick, “Oh Stevie, that is always your usual. What are you over reacting about this time? Tights too tight? Glitter not smudged on your cheeks just right? Spend too much time polishin’ your--” he coughed pointedly, “--shield alone these days?”

Tony cackled over Steve’s scandalized expression. James was so fun these days, rarely serious and almost always laughing, teasing and flirting and giving Steve the sort of hell Tony had always thought Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes would give each other.

And Steve was way more fun than Tony could have ever imagined, quippy and sarcastic, stubborn to the point of jack-assery but also quick to apologize and quicker still to try and make it up. Tony had never thought he’d be dating Bucky Barnes and calling Captain America a friend but here he was anyway.

In love.

Friends.

Found.

“Tony!” It was Rhodey coming to pick him up for dinner, and James nudged Tony teasingly when the Captain automatically jumped to his feet and snapped off a quick salute. “Oh ho, easy does it, Spangles. No need to salute when we’re just hanging out.”

Rhodey waved the Captain off, then kicked at James’s foot. “Move, Snowflake, let me at Tony for a minute.”

“Glad to see all the nicknames are catching on.” Tony cheesed a grin up at his best friend and accepted a kiss on his cheek. “Is this your official ‘I’m ditching you for dinner’ kiss?”

“You’ve ditched me for at least a thousand dinners.” The Colonel informed him dryly. “And you know better than anyone that when Ms. Potts demands lobster, you take her beautiful self to Maine for some fresh ass lobster.”

“You two going to bitch about how mad you still are I didn’t tell you I was sick?”

“If you mean we’re gonna hex a voodoo doll of your dumb ass and poke it with shit as revenge for you not letting us know you were purposefully, slowly killing yourself?” Rhodey flicked Tony in the ear. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Besides, you’re clearly tangled up with Big and Blond and Bigger and Brunette, so it’s not like you’ll miss me. I’ll call you when I get back. Love you.”

“Love you too, Rhodey.” Tony waved until the Colonel had gone, then nudged James gently. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Mini golf with Happy.” James ran his fingers through Tony’s hair and kissed his temple. “It’s Tuesday, babydoll. Can’t miss it. You and Stevie wanna come?”’

“Captain?” Tony raised his eyebrows. “Mini golf? Might soothe your wounded feelings after being left out of other things?”

“What other things?” James asked, but Tony just hushed him and waited for Steve to answer.

“Putt putt golf?” The blond thought about it for a minute, then nodded emphatically. “Square up.”

“Square up?” Tony whispered. “Is he serious with that?”

“God, Tony. You have no idea.” James whispered back. “This will be the most intense night of putt-putt in the world.”

“Can’t wait.” Tony leaned in for a kiss that went on and on, James’s hand creeping up by habit to rest over his heart, Tony’s fingers digging into the scars where metal arm met immovable muscle. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” James caught him up in another kiss, and when they parted, Tony couldn’t help thinking about the ring he had tucked away in a drawer in the lab.

Soon.

“Hey sweet thing.” James tipped Tony’s chin up. “Can I ask you something real quick? Something important.”

“Yeah.” Tony smiled and then shot a look over at Steve. “Captain? Wanna leave us alone for a minute?”

“Not...super.” Steve stalled, but when James rolled his eyes, Steve huffed and headed out, mumbling about having to buy golf clubs for putt putt.

“I gotta say, I had no idea Captain America was such a goofy gooberson.” Tony decided. “That was definitely left out of the history books. One minute he looks like he’s going to patriotically rampage, the next he’s threatening violence, then he’s pouting about mini golf. How did you deal with him?”

“Put him over my shoulder and carry him away when he got obnoxious.” James shrugged, and when Tony asked, “You mean when he was small?”, the soldier answered, “Nah, I mean last week when he got weird about a smudge on his new shoes.”

Tony laughed and laughed until James kissed him just to shut him up. “C’mon Tony, I gotta know somethin’ important.”

Tony obediently sobered up and James kissed him again as a thank you. “I uh-- I wanted to know if me only knowin’ my last name for a few months now affects how we should hyphenate.”

“Hyphenate.” Tony repeated blankly. “Hyphenate what?”

“If we’re gonna be Barnes-Stark or just Barnes.” James explained, as if that clarified anything at all.

“James, I don’t--”

“Our last names, babydoll.” The soldier pulled a simple gold band from his pocket and held it up to the light. “You wanna be Mr. Barnes or Mr. Stark-Barnes?”

“James.” Tony gaped at the band. “What-- are you-- are you proposing right now?”

“Sorta terribly.” James admitted. “But yeah, Tony. I got some of my things back from the museum and on the loop next’a my old dog tags was my Dad’s old ring and I figured, why wait? I love you and you love me and hell sugar, I’ve been waiting for so long to find someone and then you found me and now I don’t ever wanna lose you again.”

“You’re proposing to me.” Tony repeated. “James, I--”

“You don’t gotta answer me right now.” James whispered. “I know this isn’t romantic and fancy like you deserve but--”

“Yes.” Tony blurted, and James stopped, eyes widening. “Yes. Fuck yes, I’ll marry you.”

“I haven’t even officially asked you yet!”

“Well I learned my lesson about waiting till the last minute to say important things and then almost missing my chance.” Tony took the ring carefully and fit it onto his left hand. “So yes. The answer is yes. And later you’ll just have to act surprised when I propose to you--”

“--what?!”

“-- I was waiting till next week when it was our six month anniversary but this is better.” Tony pulled James in for a long kiss. “This-- this is better. I don’t want to wait anymore or take our time or any of that. We’re not running out of time anymore but I don’t want to waste what we do have. The answer is yes.”

“When ya get around to asking me next week, my answer will be yes too.” James promised and Tony closed his eyes when his soldier pulled him in close again. “Love you so much, sweet thing.”

“I love you too.”

**************

Happy was all huffy when they finally made it out of the house holding hands and trading kisses, and Steve waiting impatiently by the limo holding a hilariously small set of golf clubs and scowling impatiently.

“What’d you guys do, get lost?” Happy demanded and James just smiled down at Tony.

“Yeah. But we found each other again, so everything’s just fine.”

Everything’s just fine.

******************

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#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers

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nothlits-archive · 4 years

Text

Zoe lunarsystem13 / lunar_system13 / lemonscenteddaves / zazberry is a dangerous person.

Other names they may go by are Raven, Cassandra, Luna, and various other system member names but they primarily identify themself as Zoe or the Lunar System and frequently use the number 13 and blue and purple heart emojis as an identifier. As far as I know they are only active on tiktok now, but do have Twitter and Instagram accounts under the above usernames.

This isn't to get attention or to be petty about anything. I just want to be fully open about my experience and I want to be able to explain my feelings concisely in one place. The biggest reason I'm writing this is because I am scared that Zoe will do to other people what they did to me, because they've shown themself to be unrepentant. I attempted to bring things up with them privately when we were still on speaking terms and it resulted in gaslighting about past situations and a complete refusal to listen to or speak to me ending in uninstalling discord to avoid me.

Content warnings for abuse, gaslighting, disordered eating, hospitalization, drugs, alcohol, sexual harassment, cheating, mentions of death.

Zoe and I dated for about two years from 2018-2020. We broke up in January 2020 and were on speaking terms until early May. We initially broke up amicably because I felt emotionally neglected and wanted to give Zoe the space they needed to work on some personal problems they'd been struggling with for some time by that point. We agreed they needed more time to themself and didn't have the energy to expend on both self betterment and a partner. I wanted to stay friends with them and stop letting myself get hurt by an absent partner.

A few weeks after breaking up, Zoe and I got into an altercation where it came out that Zoe had, for the entire duration of our relationship, felt that I would never have been able to meet their needs emotionally no matter what I did and elected to never share this with me or end the relationship. They told me they would eventually just make up for my shortcomings by "getting another partner". Zoe and I were both polyamorous, but this is NOT how I practice polyamory and I didn't think it was how they practiced it either. This totally broke me.

After this, Zoe blocked me on Twitter and discord. Without apologizing to me for anything, they began messaging every friend of mine they had contact info for, "apologizing" for hurting me and trying to spread a narrative that I was telling people the wrong information about them to make them look bad. Some of the people they messaged were people I did not talk to about my personal life and who had no idea that we had even fallen out. Some of them were my closest friends, who thankfully knew Zoe was full of shit and blocked them. They messaged my boyfriend and told him that they thought I'd only started dating him to get back at them for not reading my fanfiction, a claim that absolutely gutted me as it was never something on my mind and I would NEVER commit to a relationship for the sake of petty revenge over a fanfiction.

I had to message them from a second Twitter account to ask them about what to do with all of their belongings I still had and tell them not to worry about returning mine. I also messaged them that way to explain that what they'd done and said had devastated me and to reprimand them for messaging my friends weird shit about our personal business. They initially completely ignored me for multiple days until I texted their phone and asked them to let me know if they'd read my message so that I could move on and stop worrying about it all.

When they finally responded, it was with hostility and they only stopped slinging accusations about me when I told them I didn't see them as a bad person (a statement soon to change). We tentatively made up after they did one of their infamous 180s on me and apologized profusely to me, claiming they understood what they did was wrong now. Debatable.

This is where I think it's important to go into the content of our relationship. At the time of it all happening, I felt our relationship was healthy and stable. But red flags are hard to see when you're in it.

Zoe is a highly manipulative and narcissistic person. If you look up covert narcissism, they fit the bill 100%. They lie intentionally and consistently in order to make themself look innocent. They gaslight people to play the victim. They repeatedly put me into positions where my only option was to comfort them while ignoring my own feelings. If I stood up for myself or got upset at their behavior, I was told I was being cold or they would throw a tantrum about how traumatized they are and how they can't help it. I entered into a second relationship about a year into ours. Zoe was fully aware of and initially supportive of this, but after some time, any time I would bring up my other partner, Zoe would dissolve into accusations that I was going to leave them, accusations that I was ignoring them for my other partner, complaints that because of their disabilities they weren't as good (a repeated subject for them, which I always, always reassured them was not the case and it never was): all of this in order to obtain comfort from me over the existence of someone else in my life.

At one point, my boyfriend was considering moving out of his unhealthy home to live with a family member over an hour away from me and Zoe went off the rails to both of us, telling us it wasn't fair for us to be near each other in person if they couldn't be there, how they'd been dating me longer so it was their right to be with me first, how my boyfriend should have to stay where he was even though it was a bad environment for him. This was not a plan. It was a vaguely mentioned idea. Nothing ever came of it. Zoe apologized for this, but their possessive behavior never stopped. This interaction made me feel like an object, not a person they supposedly loved.

Another time, after visiting me, Zoe began harassing me over needing to be able to house them so they could move down to be with me permanently. They expected this to happen in a matter of months. Zoe is disabled and cannot work and at the time did not receive any government assistance. I work in retail and at the time was living with a friend's family. I did not have my own place. I could not afford to singlehandedly support myself, let alone two people. I told Zoe this, and they told me that if I didn't figure it out they were going to die. This devastated me. I cried for hours because of how bad they were making me feel over something out of my control. I could barely type out responses to them besides asking them to stop and apologizing, but Zoe kept telling me that I was acting like I didn't care and was choosing to give up on them.

After this passed, they did what they always did and flipped to affection flooding me: "I'm so sorry baby, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong at all, I love you so much and know you're trying so hard".

This sort of on/off behavior was constant. I never knew what was real, or if I'd actually done something wrong, or if Zoe was going to go off on me over the slightest thing. I brought this up to them multiple times. A lot of the time it was met with "I can't help it." Other times, they would apologize and then continue the same behavior.

I first started telling them I was feeling neglected in October 2019. Nothing changed. When we broke up in January 2020 they told me I never gave them the chance to change or fix anything. They then told me the problems I was having were inherent to their dissociative disorder so it wasn't their fault. They also told me that me breaking up with them made them feel like there was no reason to go on, presumably to make me feel guilty for ending a clearly toxic relationship where they clearly still weren't learning what they were doing was wrong.

Zoe would frequently accuse me of things I hadn't done and then behave as if those accusations were true. Not limited to: agreeing to mod a discord server my boyfriend made just to keep them out of it on purpose (the link was shared publicly on Twitter where they followed both of us and the server was 3 hours old when they confronted me), abandoning them and not talking to them at all for a week when I was extremely busy every day (I spoke to them at length every single day that week and was not unreachable at any point), many many instances of only being with my boyfriend because I saw them as not good enough due to disability (never true, ever). This led to me never being able to understand my own behavior because Zoe always acted as if I was doing something wrong regardless of whether I was or not. I was guilt tripped a lot for things I didn't even do. I believe Zoe is delusional and genuinely believed these things to be true, but that doesn't change that it hurt and scarred me to be treated this way for so long.

Zoe lied to me about their whereabouts and health frequently. Zoe has DID and many physical health problems they haven't been properly diagnosed yet because of the complex nature of their symptoms. I will not deny Zoe is disabled mentally or physically. But they often used this as a way to get pity or to guilt trip me. Near the end of our relationship, they would disappear for sometimes 14+ hours at a time with no warning. Because of this, I stopped reaching out to them about my feelings or trying to talk to them about anything serious because I had developed a sort of learned helplessness. If I felt that my partner was unreachable, I would spare myself the pain of reaching out and being ignored. My mental health was very poor at this time and I was struggling with my pet being sick and nearly dying. Zoe would tell me they were just sleeping a lot. I knew they were sick and often slept long periods, so I didn't push it but I did keep to myself. They became angry at me for not reaching out to them and told me they couldn't be there for me if I didn't reach out to them and that I didn't want them around. It was a cycle, and I'll admit that I contributed to it, but I did it to protect myself. This is all important because one of Zoe's alters soon told me that Zoe had been lying to me about sleeping and was actually just trying to intentionally keep me from knowing what was really going on, which I won't share because it's not relevant. Finding out my partner was lying to me when they were already being very absent in my life was a hard thing to handle.

Zoe would also go on to lie about intentionally not eating when they'd told it to me as being physically unable to keep food down because of their Celiac's and lying to me about the length of a serious decline in health that ultimately put them in the hospital. When my pet rabbit, who is like a human child to me, was on the verge of death, Zoe messaged me telling me they were scared they were about to die. When I told them bluntly that they needed to go to the hospital if they truly felt that way, they told me I hurt their feelings and that they didn't literally think they were dying and only said that to me so I'd tell them they weren't dying. While they knew I was in a crisis over potentially losing a pet I consider to be my main emotional support for nearly a decade. Their selfishness is truly limitless and if they think anyone or anything is infringing on their victimhood, they will do whatever they can to get pity and attention.

I cannot confirm that this is a lie, but I have my suspicions about it and it's a toxic situation regardless of whether lying comes into play or not. When Zoe visited me for the first time, they were determined to get and use my thc vape pen. In the past, Zoe told me that weed (and specifically thc) caused them to have seizures and so they did not use it anymore. Because I'd been fed this narrative of how scary the seizures were and how dangerous it was for them and how they couldn't have it anymore, I refused to give them my pen. When I realized how desperate they were, I even hid it. I had to go to work for a few hours one night while they stayed in my home (again, where I live with a friend's family). They became unstable and were essentially begging me to use the pen. I repeatedly said no, saying I wasn't going to be responsible for them having a seizure. They still kept pushing me. Eventually they moved on to threatening to drink alcohol in the house that did not belong to me. They threatened to walk to a liquor store (there isn't one within walking distance and they were all closed). They were unrelenting about the pen. Eventually I gave in because I loved them and they were hurting. They did not have a seizure. I know that now they smoke weed constantly. There's no real proof that they lied to me. It's possible they were misinformed or their health has changed. But they have a long record of lying to look like a victim, and it still stands that they guilt tripped me and cried to me and begged me to give them a substance they had told me would make them sick until I gave in to them. They have openly admitted to intentional automatic lying and see this as being to their benefit.

Despite claiming to be asexual now (they did not for the duration of our relationship), Zoe sexually harassed both my boyfriend and a close friend of mine who I won't name for their privacy. Zoe would send sexual messages to both and sent images and shared nsfw content with one of them without considering boundaries or discomfort of the recipient. They badly triggered my boyfriend and ruined their relationship with him by being predatory. I mention this because I don't want the label of asexual to make anyone think Zoe isn't fully capable of being sexually inappropriate with people. They have a short track record of it. After the incident with my boyfriend, Zoe told me that THEY felt like their heart was being broken and that my boyfriend had manipulated them by being triggered by Zoe's predation. They expected me to comfort them over this and I refused. The entire scenario was brought up to me vaguely with Zoe refusing to give details and trying to simultaneously act as if they were the worst person who'd ever existed and like they were the one being hurt and deserved pity and comfort for being inappropriate. Despite the polyamorous nature of our relationship, I do consider going behind my back to be sexual with my boyfriend to be cheating. Zoe has in the past been accused of cheating by their first ex. They maintain that they didn't, but knowing what I know now about their issues with boundaries, I'm not sure.

In May, I finally decided to try to confront Zoe about the ways they'd hurt me. I brought it up to them in the context of wanting to make them aware of the ways their behaviors could hurt others going forward. Zoe has always been at least outwardly very about doing better and believing people about trauma and trying to fix your mistakes (yes, I realize how stupid I was to believe this now). I thought they would be open to listening to me so they could try to avoid hurting someone else the way I felt hurt. The way this conversation ended up going gutted me worse than anything else has with them. Worse than being told I'd never be good enough. Because it was like the person I knew was just completely gone and I didn't know them at all anymore.

I brought up the on and off flipping behavior, the emotional manipulation, I provided a screencap of the conversation where they backed me into a corner about needing to figure out how to house them as an example. They responded by telling me I misunderstood the conversation and should've just apologized to them more and been nicer so they wouldn't feel like I didn't care (again, I'd been sobbing uncontrollably and could barely type responses which were mostly "stop", "I'm sorry"). Zoe refused to listen to me about my own trauma. They shut me down. The conversation ended with them telling me I was making them too angry and they'd be back later. They ignored me for four days and, I found out later, uninstalled discord completely to avoid having to read my messages. Instead of having a real-time conversation where we could actually hash things out and I could feel heard if not understood, I resorted to typing up all of my feelings in one message, telling them this was the last I'd be speaking to them because I couldn't keep torturing myself thinking we could be friends, and sent it.

They replied to me via Twitter days later with a non-apology about how I just don't understand what it's like to have DID and telling me that they don't spend any time thinking about me or what they did to me because they are just so sick that they can't manage it.

This broke me, completely.

Figuring all of this out has been an ongoing process. I truly believed our relationship to be healthy until I began examining things while trying to heal, and realizing the wound just kept going deeper and deeper and deeper. It's been months now since we've spoken and I still can't process everything. I am constantly remembering more fucked up things they said or did to me or my friends. I don't feel like I need to document all of it, especially since it spans such a long time, I only need to give examples of repeated problem behaviors they have given no indication of changing.

They are gaining a sizeable following on tiktok and that's what scares me. They are so manipulative and cruel and blind to other people's emotions or boundaries. They are self-important and refuse to be told that they're wrong about anything. They will do whatever they can in order to look blameless and innocent. They now claim an identity of self-actualization and I've seen a video where they try to posit that my life is "going poorly" because I don't believe in their religion and listen to a specific podcast about debunking pseudoscience. This is funnier than it is upsetting until you realize it's the same "your life sucks because you don't have the same belief system as me" argument Christians use constantly. Zoe made this statement knowing the trauma I went through regarding religion in childhood. So thanks for that one. It's minor comparatively but it's incredibly tone-deaf and a great example of their eagerness to seem like others are beneath them for arbitrary reasons.

Zoe does not, as far as I know, have friends, really. All of mine dropped them once they realized what a manipulative person they are. But just knowing they are on a public platform worries me. I am an adult who has been severely traumatized repeatedly and I still fell into their trap. I don't want to think about what they could do if teens or otherwise more impressionable people came to be around them. They are big into social justice and try to seem harmless and allied with minorities to seem even less dangerous, but they absolutely are toxic and unable to acknowledge their wrongdoings in any real way. The last they told me, they were isolating themself to work on things. I don't know if this is true and I have no way of knowing.

I want to end this with self-accountability. I was not and am not perfect. When my relationship with Zoe began, I had just gotten out of an extremely traumatizing situation. I had acute severe dissociative episodes as well as hallucinations and very unstable mood in general as I was adjusting back to being in a safe(r) environment than I had been for the past year. I acted out and lashed out a lot. All of this was apologized for in the best way that I knew how and I have done my best to change my behavior going forward. I consider myself to be in a much better space now mentally. I am always willing to work on problem behavior as long as I'm made aware it exists. There are things I did wrong in this relationship, and I've thought a lot about it, questioning myself and catching myself in old ways of thinking to correct myself now in all of my relationships. I didn't write this to pretend like I did nothing wrong. I am not innocent. But not being innocent doesn't mean these things didn't happen to me, or that they couldn't happen to someone else if I don't at least try to warn people.

Please don't message Zoe and definitely don't try to argue with them. Just don't engage with them. They've been given a chance to address their behavior maturely and they turned it down in favor of continuing to play the victim in public. Anyone trying to instigate anything with them is just going to give them more fuel to act that way.

I have already been treated like a liar for some of this information or had people believe Zoe over me on whatever accusations they'd like to make about me. That's been damaging but there's nothing I can really do about it. I'm open to answering any questions but I'm also going to ask that if you do message me about this, please be civil about it. I'm putting myself in a vulnerable place by writing all of this and I am already scared of the outcome. But I routinely convince myself that I'm making things up because of the nature of being gaslit so much. So I needed a written record of that even if Zoe doesn't like it.

If you read this, thank you. I've been internalizing a lot of things. Getting my experiences out somewhere concise will hopefully help my healing process.

#am now going into hiding the rest of the day because i'm scared bye

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korra-the-red-lion · 3 years

Text

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 7: Sweet Dreams.

(Lyn + Michael)

Lyn.

Push. Hold. Lower. Hold. Repeat.

I mechanically went through the motions of my push-ups. They always say exercises are supposed to release those happy feelings, yet it wasn’t helping me all that much right now. I lowered myself all the way down and rolled onto my back, staring up at the morning sky.

It was a chilly morning, which wasn’t all that surprising since it was October. The grass was wet enough that I could feel my back getting soaked from just lying here. I forced myself up into a crunch, holding for 5 seconds before lowering myself down again.

My mind wouldn’t stop replaying the scene of Jackie just lying there. Every time I closed my eyes it was just there. It was really fucking with me. I haven’t really spoken to anyone about it. I didn’t really want to. I know what was holding me back from getting the help I needed, but I couldn’t fight through it. It was like this whole thing has royally screwed with my hold on myself, and now things were spiraling out of my control.

Then there was what Ally and her friend Michael explained to me the other day. It was so utterly ridiculous, but it was something. It made zero sense to me, but so did fucking blood showers and random attacks in the locker room, so in some way it made more sense than anything else. I mean, I thought I did see a shadow in the tree after Ally told me she didn’t like being there, and I know there was writing on the wall. And Jackie’s wound…those were claw marks, not knife wounds.

My stomach lurched when I thought about the wound and I rolled onto my side, steadying my breathing. I screwed my eyes shut and forced my brain to think about anything besides that. For whatever reason, it settled on Nailed It. I started giggling like a madwoman as I fought off my nausea. Man, I must look like a strange site right now.

I forced myself to my feet and sluggishly walked back to my res. When I opened my door, Nura looked over and frowned.

“Lyn, are you okay?”

“Hmm,” I hummed. I picked through my drawer to find a clean shirt to wear.

“You just seem…different. Do you want to talk about it?” I could hear the concern in her voice, and it made me sick to my stomach. I hated when someone worried about me. With my back still to her, I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face before turning around.

“I’m good, thanks! Just a little tired, that’s all,” I said. Ugh, my voice sounded so bloody fake.

Nura nodded slowly but she definitely didn’t believe me in the slightest. I turned away and grabbed a few more things before heading to the showers.

I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, but the icky feeling that was worming around inside my body wouldn’t go away. I was shaking as I washed my hair, trying to calm myself down. There was no need to get so worked up over nothing. Something. Worked up over something. Something out of my control.

I need to get my head on straight. Maybe once I ate something I’d feel better. It felt like a false hope, but it was something. I carefully cleaned under my nails, paranoid that Jackie’s blood was still under them. I cleaned them religiously 3 times a day, but the feeling was still lingering. Finally, feeling extremely raw from all the scrubbing, I stepped out of the shower and dressed quickly.

Not wanting to talk to Nura again, I dumped my stuff off quickly and made a beeline for food hall. I zipped my parka up and pulled up the hood. It was threatening to rain already, and I didn’t want to get cold after just getting out of the shower.

The smell of food didn’t really entice me like I figured, but I still grabbed a plate of eggs and toast. I sat down at a mostly empty table and slowly worked my way through the food. My stomach was still squirming around, and the food wasn’t making it feel any better.

I heard the footsteps before I even saw who they belonged to. Those stomping steps could only belong to her. “Lyn, Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker,” snarled Loryn as she sat down across from me. “Why are you avoiding me? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days now!”

I cringed and looked away, shame colouring my cheeks. “Oh…hey Loryn.”

“Oh, do not ‘hey Loryn’ me, Lyn!” She slammed her hand on the table. “You show up for practice looking like an absolute wreck and speed out of there so fast I didn’t get a chance to even say hi! What the hell is going on?!”

“Loryn please, not here,” I muttered, very aware of some of the people listening in.

“Not here?” Loryn seethed, “Then where? Because like I said, you’ve been dodging me since the hospital.”

I rubbed at my face awkwardly, not sure how to answer. I settled for a shrug and a small shake of my head, which only annoyed Loryn more.

“Okay, fuck this.” She got up and walked around, grabbing me by the wrist and forcing me to my feet. “We’re walking. Let’s go.”

I meekly followed her out of the food hall, knowing there was no way I was going to get away from her this time. The rain had started to fall lightly as we stepped outside. Loryn’s angry stomps simmered down to heavy clomps as we walked towards the little pond.

“You better start speaking now, Lyn” said Loryn sternly. I knew she wasn’t going to stay mad at me for long, but the concern I saw in her eyes didn’t make me feel much better.

“If I told you I wasn’t really sure, how mad would you be?” I asked lightly, trying to joke a little.

Loryn’s mouth twitched slightly as she crossed her arms. “I have two older sisters, Lyn, and a little one. I can literally stand here all day if I have to.”

I sighed, shoulders dropping heavily. “I just…I dunno. I’m processing a lot of things right now…” I shoved my hands in my pockets sullenly.

“I get that,” said Loryn as she threw a hand up angrily, “but Lyn, you can’t just push everyone out when you are going through things. We’ve been over this before!”

My mind flashed back to first year, when I got into a huge fight with my parents over Thanksgiving break. That was when I spiralled the first time, indulging in a lot of self-destructive behaviours. Like my extremely unhealthy dating speed run, or my run in with Adderall. Loryn was the first one to notice that something was going on, and I eventually broke down and told her what happened.

My relationship with them was complicated. Being the youngest daughter in a family of three, I had a lot of expectations to live up to. They expected absolute perfection at all times, which is where my need for perfect grades comes from, as well as all the extra training I did on my own. I was getting better, but I still tended to retreat into myself when dealing with an extreme number of emotions. I didn’t want other people to be bothered with me, most likely caused by my upbringing. Asking for help meant you were falling behind the bar, and well…yeah, lots of fighting.

I sighed again, looking at Loryn’s shoulder instead of her face. “I can’t sleep.”

“How long?”

“Since…” my voice got caught in my throat. “…the whole locker room thing. It started a little before, I think. But when I saw…I just can’t sleep right now.”

“Lyn…” Loryn’s voice softened. “It’s totally normal, okay? What you saw…I can’t even imagine that. But it’s not healthy to keep it all bottled up.”

“I know that!” I snapped, before dropping my head in shame. “Sorry. I know that,” I repeated, less annoyed, “but they’re in my head. You know she called me?”

“She did?”

“Yeah.” I kicked a pebble away, watching it fly. “She must have gotten word of the whole incident or something. Anyway, they wanted to check in on me, but I didn’t answer at first. Then I made the stupid fucking mistake of answering the second time.”

Loryn frowned in displeasure. “Yeah? And what?”

I shook my head. “Just the whole ‘well I’m glad to hear that you’re okay,’ which would have been fine if it wasn’t followed up with ‘I just hope this doesn’t affect your grades.’”

Loryn’s face went red with anger, similar to how she looked at me earlier. “Are you serious? One of your friends got hurt and that’s what she says to you?”

“Yup,” I said flatly. “So, on top of my fucking night terrors, I’ve got my mum on my mind. Mix it all together and you get one miserable Lyn,” I finished with a pathetic laugh.

“Lyn, c’mere,” Loryn said with her arms opened wide. I walked into her hug and let her squeeze me tightly. “What you’re going through is allowed, but you gotta open up. I can’t help you if you avoid me like the plague.”

I dropped my chin on the top of her head. “I know, I’m a dumbass.”

“That much is obvious,” Loryn muttered into my shoulder. “Did they give you anything at the hospital?” I shook my head. “Okay, then we need to get something to help you. Because I don’t know how to say this nicely, so I won’t, but you look like shit.”

I chuckled weakly. “Do you say that to all your boyfriends?”

“Only when they look like shit,” she said curtly. “Come on, let’s go do something fun to help you relax a little, then we are totally figuring out who we can call about this.”

“Fine,” I mumbled. “But I have plans today, so can this not take long?”

“What? What kind of plans do you have?”

“I’m…” Shoot, I don’t know how to explain I was going to look into the history of the school because I was going ghost hunting. My brain scrambled to make up something intelligent to say but it couldn’t. Loryn was looking at me questioningly, no doubt thinking I was making it up so I could get out of talking to someone. I finally settled on a half-truth.

“I’m meeting up with Ally later,” I said lamely. I totally never planned on bringing her. Sifting through the archives could take a ton of time and I wouldn’t want to make her help with that.

Loryn made a thoughtful face before breaking out in a playful grin. I was confused and asked, “What’s that face for?”

“Nah, not telling,” she said teasingly.

“What the heck? What about being open and shit?”

“Oh, that’s only for you! I don’t keep locking away my feelings.”

I groaned, “Loryn, just tell me pleaseeeeee.”

“’The cute brunette,’” she said, doing a poor imitation of me.

My ears heated up. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

Loryn giggled. “Oh, nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“She’s cute, yeah. And I like hanging out with her,” I said throwing my hands in the air, “so what?”

“This is like your second date already,” Loryn pointed out.

Okay, now my face was heating up. “I-I- no, I mean, it’s not like that,” I spluttered as Loryn laughed at me. “I mean, yeah, she’s cute and really fun to hang around with, but that’s all that’s going on, you know?”

“Whatever you say, Lyn. I don’t get in the way of you dating.” Loryn nodded approvingly. “She’s a better pick than Derek at least. No wait, scratch that, the dirt on my shoe is a better choice than him.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” she stuck her tongue out.

I grabbed her tongue with a small smirk on my face. “Ally is just a friend, that’s all. Who knows, maybe it will become something more but right now it’s nothing. I don’t know her all that well. She just asked for my help on a history thing. I gotta put this big brain of mine to good use, you know?”

Loryn pulled her tongue away and smiled cheekily at me. “Okidoki. Alrighty, let’s go.”

“Do we have to?”

“Lyn!”

I held my hands up defensively. “Kidding, only kidding.”

Maybe this whole talking to someone thing might be good for me. I already felt a little bit better, even if I was running on very little sleep. I would never admit to Loryn that she was right about this though, because she would never let me live it down. Sometimes it would have been nice to have a friend like her growing up. I probably would have been a little better adjusted, but it is what it is. That’s what growing up is, right? Learning how to be your own person and discovering things you never knew before.

XXX

Michael

If someone told me that I would be swiping some of my lab equipment so I could do a test on a sample from in the locker room from a supposed ghost attack at the beginning of the school year, I would have laughed politely and nodded along without believing a word they said.

But here I was, doing just that.

If my lab partner Travis noticed, he didn’t say anything. We were looking at blood samples today and he kept smushing the lens containing the blood by accident, and I think he just wanted to leave.

Time in lab always seemed to drag on forever. It might have to do with the 3hr slot that was dedicated to it, but I felt like my energy was slowly being drained away. Finally, the TA looked over and told everyone to start cleaning up. I quickly put everything away and wiped down my station, ready to get the heck out of here.

“Hey, Michael?”

I held back from gritting my teeth and looked over at the TA. “Yea’?”

She smiled at me and handed me my assignment back. “You almost forget this.”

I chuckled with a sheepish grin as I took it. “Oh, thanks Jas.”

“No problem.”

After that nearly embarrassed display on my part, I was out of here. I slipped off my lab shoes and tossed them into my backpack with my lab coat. I slipped my sneakers on and pulled my coat from the hook as I sped to the door, ready to get out of here.

It was raining when I came out, which was a bit of a mood killer. Then a thought popped in my head.

Wait, why was I in lab? They’re cancelled for the week.

All of a sudden, the sky rumbled as if it was annoyed that I came to this realization. I looked around, seeing if there was anyone around. The whole campus was empty, except one person sitting on the steps leading into the Harper building. I madly ran over, my feet slipping on the wet pavement with something that definitely not rain.

“Hey! HEY!” I hollered, trying to get their attention. They wouldn’t look up. Maybe they couldn’t hear me? I yelled louder, waving my arms around. Finally, they looked over.

Half her face was rotting off. Skin was hanging by threads as her face oozed with pus. Her left eye was leaking something cloudy, and her smile was disturbing. I forced myself to stop running towards her, backpedalling to now get away. But she lifted a hand and crooked her finger, and I was pulled over against my will, like there was a giant hand tugging at me.

“W-what do you w-want?” I stuttered nervously.

She tilted her head, and a chuck of skin plopped to the ground. I nearly threw up right there, but I managed to hold it in. Barely. She stood up and I could see that other parts of her body were equally as rotten. She opened her mouth and shrieked in my face, spittle and pus and blood all splashing against me.

Oh my God oh my God ohmygod.

Her finger dug into my cheek as her good eye examined me. “You are the perfect specimen,” she said, her voice sounding like echoes in my ears. Before I could ask what she meant by that, she stabbed her hand through my chest.

I woke up with a jolt.

I quickly patted my hands over my chest but there was no bleeding. I sighed in relief before grabbing my phone to check the time. It was just around 11, I must have turned my alarm off by accident. I used the hem of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face before texting Ally.

M: Ally, I just had a super weird dream.

It didn’t take long for her to reply.

A: Huh? What do you mean?

M: I was in lab when suddenly I realized that we have no classes and there was this woman sitting on the steps of Harper. I went over to ask her something and she was a rotting corpse!!!

A: are you serious?

M: yeah!! Then she fricking stabbed me!!!

A: D:

A: OMG

A: That sounds so freaky

M: yea for realz! She said something really weird to me to

M: *too

M: she said you are the perfect specimen

A: oh spicy, ghost has the hots for you

A: plz invite me to the wedding

M: Ally I was murdered in my dreams and you think we should get married?

A: was it your worst date ever then?

M: … I would say yes

M: though my date with Kiki Gillmore was pretty bad too

A: :P

I put my phone down and chewed on my nail, feeling a little better about the whole thing. It was just really freaky to feel something going though my body like that. I don’t even know who she was, but she looked pretty pissed off. And that voice, man. That was freaky crap. It wasn’t the first time I had a strange dream like that, but they were never that violent.

What did my dad always say about strange dreams? Michael, all dreams have some basis in reality. If something happens in a dream, there must be a reason for it.

Whelp, I really really really hope that wasn’t the case here. I’m not sure about other people, but I wasn’t a big fan of dying. Especially dying by hand stabbing. If I was going to die, I wanted it to be at least peaceful or heroic.

Deciding I needed to get rid of the heebie jeebies, I rolled out of bed and put on some clean clothes. There as a small shop that sold neato things like crystals and stuff. The lady who owned the store even did tarot readings. If there was some place I could buy ghostly protection from, it would be her place.

I suspiciously glanced at the rain-soaked pavement as I walked down towards the main street. At least it was just rain this time.

It didn’t take me too long to make it to The Dreaming Mythic. As usual, it looked pretty dead on the inside. I popped in, making sure the door closed behind me so the rain didn’t get in. Instantly I got hit with the smell of sage and…lavender? I think it was lavender. I poked around for a little bit before I approached the counter after getting freaked out by the petrified doll heads.

Being stabbed by a rotting corpse ghost was preferable to death by dolls.

Talia, the owner of the shop, smiled when she saw me approached. Probably because I’m the first customer she’s had today. Or in the last few days. Regardless, she leaned forward and asked, “Well, what can I do for you today, Mr. Yamamoto?”

I smiled at her pleasantly. “Hey, Talia. This probably won’t sound too strange to you, but I’m in the market for some magical protection,” I said, wiggling my fingers at her for dramatic effect.

“What kind of protection exactly?”

I pointed up. “Protection from them.”

She looked bemused. “Angels?”

Oh, she was playing with me today. I laughed and shook my head. “Nah, I wish. What I’m looking for is something to protect me and a few friends against ghosts.”

“Ghosts, is it?” She frowned and rubbed her nose. “What kind of ghosts?”

“I think they’re angry, maybe even vengeful.”

“Ah,” she said softly. She turned around to open up a small cupboard above her head. “How did you get mixed up with an angry spirit, Mr. Yamamoto?”

I crossed my arms behind my head, stretching my back out. “Uh, it’s not me exactly. Well, it kinda is. My friend, Ally, she’s the one getting into it. Her friend, Lyn, and some of the other girls on the swim team are being haunted, we think.”

“Oh, I heard about that poor kid getting attacked,” she commented. “It sounded a little too convenient to just be a knife attack. And right after they had such an ominous warning sign?” She shook her head in mild disappointment as she continued to gather things in her arms.

I poked at the amulets dangling from the display as I waited for her to finish up. Talia was nearly done, as she put down her armful of items before disappearing into the back room for a few minutes. I looked down, not sure exactly what gems she had pulled out. I recognized the amethyst, but that was about it. I wasn’t exactly a rock guy. Finally, she came back with a large dusty book and dropped it on the counter.

“I don’t know the personalities of the people you’re helping,” she said carefully, “but anyone who is willing to get entangled with the departed is someone who has done this before. I think for your friend Ally, this is what she needs.”

She handed me a necklace with an amethyst stone in the middle and some bracelet with a black stone in the center. “Amethyst is for soothing the user, and the onyx will help protect the wearer from dark spirits. For you, son, I recommend a peridot. It is associated with protection, purity, and emotional balance.” She frowned, muttering under her breath. She grabbed a ring off the counter and placed it gently in my hand. “Give this to the tall one. She’s going to need the quartz if she plans on helping you. All of you should be wearing some form of onyx, if I’m being truthful.”

I looked down at the various jewelry in my hands. “Um…how much do I owe you?”

She stared at me very intensely. I never really noticed it before, but the green in her eyes looked a little yellow in this light. She gave me a small smile. “$15.”

That seemed extremely underpriced. I raised my brow in question, but she only shook her head. “Mr. Yamamoto, how would you feel if you charged someone an insane price to help protect themselves from something that might kill them?”

“Super crappy, I guess,” I said quietly. The thought of the ghosts killing us was something that never once crossed my mind. I tapped my debit card against the machine and thanked her before heading out, my backpack now filled with various forms of protection.

Well, at least I felt a little productive today. Later tonight Lyn was planning on doing some research, I think. And I know Ally hasn’t said anything about joining her, but I had a sneaky feeling in my gut that she was going to. I wasn’t like, 100% sure, but the eyes she was giving Lyn during our chat had been p r e t t y intense. I chuckled to myself, because I was pretty sure Ally wasn’t completely aware of it just yet.

Nothing like a little romance to spice up a good old ghost hunt, amiright?

#unnatural affairs #ua #ally holland #lyn hart #michael yamamoto #original story #original fiction #paranormal #murder mysteries #mystery #romance #ghosts #loryn frasier

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darlingrutherford · 4 years

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Back in October, I received an ask about Lana and Alistair sharing Cullen, which prompted me to think about what circumstances would have to happen in order for that to work in my DA canon. I started thinking about it deeply, which has turned into a lot of posts and, in November, I started working on the story version of how that would play out (or, rather, what would spark that first spicy encounter between Lana and Cullen, which could make way for more spicy encounters). I hit a rather big writer’s block on it (like most of my writing, thanks CFS) and was stuck writing a line here or there every week or so, but all this talk recently with @jellysharkbat about Cullanistair sparked something in my brain and I finally FINISHED IT.

This ended up being way longer than I had originally planned lmao. So, I’m uploading to Ao3 as well if you’d rather read on there since they format a bit better than Tumblr. Enjoy!!

“You look exhausted.”

The words flowed from her tongue easily enough. The past few months that she and Alistair had been at Skyhold putting together the pieces for the cure had found her and Cullen becoming even more comfortable around one another than back when she was a mage at Kinloch. As such, Lana hadn’t been expecting the almost put off glance from Cullen as his eyebrow quirked at her accusation, and her eyes widened as she quickly followed up her comment, silently wishing she could suck the words back in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - It’s just, you seemed like you were almost falling asleep there for a moment.”

Cullen sighed as his expression relaxed in understanding. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes returning to the chess board in front of them before his hand quickly dragged against his face in an attempt to wake up.

“My apologies,” he said. He leaned forward, moving one of his templars on the board to take her pawn. “I have not been sleeping well these past few nights.”

“Is it the withdrawals still?” Lana asked. She kept her voice down when she asked the question, knowing full well that Cullen still had yet to make it known to many that his withdrawals were apt to keep him up at night. The corner of Cullen’s mouth quirked in a short lived smile as Lana pondered her move.

“Those have not been as frequent as they once were, thankfully.” He paused as he contemplated his next words, the silence between them filled by the sound of crows as they flew above to Leliana’s tower. When he finally spoke, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I wake up more often, because of the memories.”

Lana nodded in silent understanding. She knew well what Cullen was referring to: of Kinloch, of the torture he had endured for days before she, Alistair, and their friends had rescued him and the few left alive by Uldred and the other blood mages who had taken over the Circle Tower. He had uncomfortably explained it to her weeks after she and Alistair had arrived at Skyhold together months ago, something he couldn’t have avoided when the initial sight of Lana had brought all those memories screaming back to him in his waking hours. Cullen had forced himself to make time for her, to help his mind realize the difference between her and the memory of the demon who used her image to torture him so many long years ago, but also for her. Lana’s guilt when he had eagerly left the room the first time had been clear as day, and Cullen knew she had no need to harbor it. Lana had saved his life, had protected the others he had so quickly wanted to condemn in his hysteria. She was not the same as the nightmares he so frequently experienced in his sleep. So they had spent time together ever since, talking through the past and making way towards the supportive friendship that had quickly grown between the two of them.

“I still have nightmares from my childhood. Vivid ones, of the night my mother died.” Lana leaned forward, moving one of her rooks before sitting back. Her hand came up to tug at the end of her long braid, fingers pulling at the loose copper strands. “I used to have them every night, back when I was first taken to the templars. I went days without sleeping once, hoping that if I went long enough they’d never return.”

“I remember you being caught once after curfew, sitting in the hall,” Cullen said. A faint smile grew on his face as he looked at Lana when a laugh escaped her at the memory. “Knight-Commander Gregoir threatened to cut off your library access because of it, since you spent so many hours there, but First Enchanter Irving talked him out of it.”

“The only time I ever got caught,” she laughed. “The apprentices who slept near me would chastise me until I’d leave to calm down after one of them. I was too loud, apparently. They weren’t nightly by then, but they did occur every week at the least. They were still awful when I first left Kinloch for the Wardens. I’m grateful they’re not as frequent now. A couple times a month, perhaps.”

“What helped?” He wasn’t looking at the board at this point. His eyes were focused on Lana, watching her as she stared off at a nearby shrub as if it held all the answers in the world.

“Time,” she finally said after a brief pause. “Time, and a lot of help. I blamed myself for my mother’s death. If I hadn’t come into my magic, she may still be… Well, but I know now that it wasn’t my fault. It took a long time for me to realize that, and I couldn’t have done it alone. That, and…”

Cullen waited for a response that didn’t come. Lana had closed her mouth, her cheeks turning pink. Cullen tilted his head, curiosity on his face.

“And… What?” He casually asked.

“Well… I…. Had a trigger, for the memories when awake… Kind of like how they came back for you suddenly when you first saw me arrive. The nightmares were mostly in my sleep, but also, whenever I used magic… It was like I could hear her again in my head, screaming. The nightmares got worse the more darkspawn we came across, the more I had to fight. I hated my magic and what it represented.”

“I assume you no longer loathe it, if your dreams have calmed so much?” Cullen asked. Lana nodded her head quietly. She chewed on her lower lip as she returned her gaze to the board in front of them. Taking his cue, Cullen moved his templar once more. Truth be told, he was more focused on their conversation at that point than the game between them. “How did you accomplish that?”

“We… Alistair figured, if I used my magic and something good came out of it, that my reaction may change. I always used magic out of self defense, to kill darkspawn and such. He suggested that using magic for another person who would have a good reaction to it, that I would think of that instead of my mother by association. He’s a smart man. It definitely worked, the more we tried it.”

“That is fortunate that you had a way to disassociate from those memories,” Cullen said. “Healing magic can be very helpful, especially for those who fight darkspawn so often, I would assume.”

“It, well… Wasn’t all that we did.”

“I can’t imagine there are many other kinds of magic that wouldn’t be harmful to the recipient?” Cullen raised his gaze to look at Lana, noticing the pink that had spread to her ears as she cleared her throat.

“Alistair is… very receptive to it, if, um… You know, it’s controlled….”

“I see.” Cullen’s face had gone red the moment he realized what she meant. The two of them averted their gazes from the other, both intensely staring at the chess board as if their game had suddenly become just that more serious. They went through a few exchanged moves in silence, waiting for the awkwardness to tide over - as if it ever could - before Lana spoke again.

“Do you think this has helped you at all? Us, spending time like this together.”

“I haven’t had any feelings of those memories when I am around you in quite a while, so I would say, yes, it has helped considerably,” Cullen said. Lana seemed to visibly relax at his words as a warm smile grew on her face.

“Is there anything else I could do to help redirect those memories?”

Cullen watched her as she moved her templar, taking his. The redness was returning to his face rapidly, well aware that she had no idea of the gritty details of the torture that involved her likeness. As Lana looked up and saw the almost shocked expression mixed with color on his face, her eyes widened again.

“Maker, I’m sorry, Cullen, I didn’t mean to make you think about it,” she said quickly in a mumble. “Do you want me to leave?”

“What? N - No, I… It’s, um…”

“I just, I know you said that a demon took the form of me. I don’t know what was said, what was done… Sometimes playing out a memory and changing the outcome, we’ve found it really helps me - Andraste silence me, I’m just making it worse, aren’t I?”

Cullen swallowed, forcing his eyes back to the board as he tried to formulate what to say. Maker, what could he say in a situation like this? Cullen’s boyish crush on the young, red-headed circle mage was a memory long since passed. Of course she was still beautiful - more so now, if it was even possible - but he had moved on... Hadn’t he? Besides, she was with Warden Alistair, and quite happily by the looks of it. But still, for her to be suggesting without knowing what she was suggesting…

“It’s… It’s not that simple, unfortunately,” he stammered out.

“Are you afraid of what might happen? That I’ll hurt you?”

“What? No, I’m - I’m not afraid of you, it’s… Maker’s breath, I was tempted, tortured by your likeness, Lana. Touches, and - and, visions of so… so much more… You have no idea what you… what you’re offering, or how I will… how I would... ”

Their chess game was all but forgotten at this point. Cullen’s breathing had become heavy, his grip on the armrests of his chair tight. He had turned his gaze sharply to the side, staring at the stone wall beside them as he tried to hold back the emotions that threatened to break through his usually strong resolve. Lana sat there quietly across from him, sadness filling her as she watched Cullen all but break in front of her, like a teacup slowly hitting the hard ground. Minutes went by and, once Cullen had allowed a few heavy breaths to sigh from him and the color had calmed in his cheeks, Lana finally spoke.

“What if we tried?” She asked. Cullen looked at her incredulously, and she smiled softly. “Nothing has to happen. A completely safe environment. We wouldn’t do anything more than you felt comfortable doing. You would be in control this time. No demons.”

“What about Alistair?” Cullen asked quietly, the question surprising himself. Maker, but was he actually considering this? Lana’s laughter surprised him even further.

“Alistair won’t mind. He’ll probably encourage it, once I explain. He should be there, too. So you have someone else reassuring you who doesn’t embody the face of your memories.”

“I… I’m not sure if… You actually think it would help?” Maker help him, he was considering it.

“It helped me a lot.” Lana nodded. “It wouldn't hurt to try, right?”

“I don’t… think you realize just how… How far some of it went.” Cullen’s throat had gone dry, his voice a bit raspy.

“Alistair enjoys sharing me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Lana said. She placed her closed hand gently against her lips, laughing lightly at the look that spread on Cullen’s face. “Believe me, he enjoys it. He often joins in. Although, obviously, he doesn’t have to. This would be about you, Cullen. About helping you. If reliving all that without the bad helps you sleep better at night, I’d be happy to do it. Just think about it. No pressure.”

No pressure. The words had left her so simply, so unironically, as if this wouldn’t be one of the more difficult things for Cullen to consider. It would sound perfect on paper, he was sure: taking a moment of trauma and reliving it with the ability to strike out what had gone wrong. Of course, he couldn’t strike it all out. There would always be the memories he couldn’t rewrite: of his friends, murdered in front of him after hours of torture; of the mages who trapped him and cut him before sending a demon to play with his mind. But she was there, in Skyhold - the mage he had secretly pined for all those years ago. The very person whose visage had been used to torment him again, and again, as they played her in his mind the way he had always wanted her back then: touching him, kissing him, just as he had imagined it might be, only for her to transform into the demon once more before they tortured him some more. If he had a chance to rewrite even just one part of it… After this long of trying to run from it all, he owed it to himself to try. After all the guilt she had felt since the moment she had rescued him only for him to look at her as if she had been the one to do it, he owed it to her.

“I’d say you won’t even know I’m here, but… I think we all know that would be a lie,” Alistair chuckled.

The three of them sat in a small room, the one Alistair and Lana had been staying in since they had arrived three months ago. Lana had suggested Cullen pick the location once he had agreed to their meeting, wanting him to feel safe wherever they were - one more way for him to be in control of the setting. Of course Cullen had his own room, but the hole in the roof and the possibility of interruptions was much too high. At least Lana would be comfortable in her own room, he had told himself.

“Don’t listen to him,” Lana sighed with a smile. She wasn’t wearing her usual blue armor that day. She sat at the edge of the bed, a tunic much too large for her hanging to her knees and breeches covering her legs. Alistair had gone without much of his armor as well, lounging in a comfy chair near the window and looking quite relaxed about the whole situation. Cullen felt a mess inside and, after the way he had blunderingly discarded his armor as he realized he was much too overdressed between the other two, he was quite sure his anxiousness was apparent as he sat in a chair near the small desk at the wall.

“I’m teasing, of course,” Alistair said with a smile. “But, not really, at the same time. I’m here for moral support. I know things like this aren’t always easy. It wasn’t difficult for me to redirect Lana when her memories became triggered early on, but, then, I wasn’t the focus of that memory. It’ll seem awkward in the beginning, I’m sure, seeing me in the corner, watching you canoodle with my wife -”

“Alistair…”

“What? You can’t expect me not to.” Alistair grinned at Lana as she rolled her eyes at him. “What I was trying to say is: I’m not going to deck you off of her at any point, unless you’re hurting her, of course. We’re all adults. Or, at least, that’s what I tell myself. Anyway, it’ll get less awkward, and we have all the time in the world. So, chop chop, get at it, have fun you two.”

“Maker’s breath.” Cullen groaned as he buried his face in his hands.

“Ignore him,” Lana said lightly. Cullen looked up as he felt her hands on his, pulling gently as she uncovered his face. She wasn’t much taller than him in that moment, even with him sitting and slouching the way he was. It had been one of the first things he had ever noticed about her, how easy she would have been to hold in his arms. “Focus on me. Now, tell me… How did the demon tempt you with me?”

“I….” Cullen trailed off. He tried his best to keep his eyes on her, but he steadily found it more and more difficult as the memories threatened to return to him.

“I know it’s hard to talk about,” Lana said after a moment of silence. “Maybe start with the first thing?”

“You… I mean, it… When the deception began, the vision… I thought I had awoken in the tower by myself. I had almost thought they left, and then… I saw you. I mean… Not you, but…”

“Take your time, Cullen, it's all right.”

“I don’t want you to… To feel like you have to do this.”

“I wouldn’t have offered this to just anyone, Cullen. You and I have a connection that is unfortunate in one large aspect, and that’s Uldred. Let’s remove him from the equation.”

Cullen took a deep breath and nodded before continuing.

“You crouched next to me on the floor. I tried to warn you of what had happened, but you told me all was well. That we were alone. It had all been some awful dream. You touched my face…”

Cullen froze as Lana touched his cheek. First her fingertips, gentle and slightly cool to the touch. Then they slid to hold him, the calluses on her hand from years of wielding her staff rubbing softly as they went. Lana rested her hand there, giving Cullen a small and encouraging smile.

“How are you doing?” She asked softly. Cullen's eyes flicked towards Alistair, almost expecting him to become uncomfortable with the situation at any moment, only to find the man lounging sideways in his chair with his long legs hanging over the side.

“F - Fine. I'm, ah, fine.” Cullen waited until Lana gave him a small nod, his cue to continue. He cleared his throat, giving himself courage to continue as he focused his gaze on her. “I tried to tell you again that we should go, but you… You were persistent. You told me that you - you knew, about my thoughts… My… My desires…”

“Did you desire me?” Lana asked sweetly. Color rushed to Cullen's face as she brought her legs to either side of his lap, settling softly onto him. Her other hand met the opposite side of his face to mirror the one that already cupped his cheek, and slowly her hands slid back to curl gently in his hair.

“I - I did, at the time.” The words were raspy as they left his throat. His eyes widened slightly as he felt his cock twitch once against his breeches, against her. A lilting laugh left her throat as she smiled.

“At the time?” She teased.

“He'd have had to be mad not to be,” Alistair commented casually from the corner. Cullen nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. Maker, he had already forgotten that Alistair was there. Lana's hand dropped to Cullen's chin, gently redirecting his gaze towards her.

“What happened next, Cullen?”

“You… It...”

“Did it kiss you?”

“I… Yes,” he choked. Cullen's heart pounded in his chest as time slowed down for him. Slowly, steadily, Lana began leaning towards him, her eyes gradually closing as her lips neared his. And then, they met, and he froze.

“Cullen? Cullen?”

Cullen blinked, finding Lana still on his lap but staring at him at an arm's length. There was a hint of concern in her eyes, and as his gaze slowly moved towards Alistair he saw the same caring, concerned look on the man's face. As Cullen began moving again Lana visibly relaxed as her warm smile returned to her face.

“What happened just now? Where did you go?”

“It was… Almost just as I recalled,” he breathed. Maker, but this was more difficult than he had thought it would be. His hands were shaking, and he gripped the arms of the chair to steady them. He couldn't even recall her ending the kiss, seemingly having lost that time in his mind.

“What was different, though?” Alistair piped in.

“What?” Cullen turned his head to look at Alistair. The man was still sitting with his legs over the side of the chair, however now he was propped up more proper.

“Before, when it happened. Did it feel like her kiss did? Could you feel the callus on her lower lip from her chewing it too much? Were the kisses before rough and forcing, or soft and sweet?”

“Ah, m - more rough, I… Looking back on it, perhaps it was trying too hard to convince me.”

“So focus on her, then. Kiss her again, but this time count all the differences. Starting with that lovely callus of hers.”

Cullen mentally prepared himself as Lana gently ran her fingers through his hair. Her touch was kind, soothing, not at all what he had felt back in Kinloch. She trailed her fingers over his cheek, tracing his features like a lover memorizing their partner's face. He watched her eyes, her gentle smile as she followed her fingers, and his body relaxed under her touch. Her fingers trailed over the scar above his lip, following it to his lips themselves. That was when her eyes met his, and for a split second a memory of those same blue eyes flashed in his mind, only younger than the ones in front of him now, smiling up at him as they stood talking about the Harrowing she had just completed with ease, and his heart skipped a beat.

“This is real this time, this isn’t a dream,” she whispered. “You're a templar no longer, and we are not in Kinloch. Kiss me.”

Cullen's lips were pulled to hers as if by some invisible force. His hands rested at the small of her back, gripping lightly as they kissed. He followed Alistair's instruction, focusing on every little difference. He found the callus Alistair had mentioned, right at the middle of her lower lip, born from years of nervous habits, something completely missing from his memory. Her kisses were soft, gentle, as kind as her fingers that snaked through his hair once more to caress him - a stark contrast to the gripping, needing pulls from his nightmares. She smelled of lavender and vetiver, of ink and the pages of very old books. She let him take the lead, kissing back only when he kissed her, leaving him in full control. At one point a whimper left her throat, high pitched and shaking, and Cullen suddenly realized that his hands had moved to grip her bottom.

“A - Andraste preserve me, I am so - so sorry,” he sputtered while removing his hands from her. He sighed as Lana kissed him once more, and this time he found his lips trailing after hers when she pulled back.

“I meant what I said before,” she said with a small smirk. “Whatever helps you heal this memory…”

“It… It never got quite that far,” Cullen said as he cleared his throat. “Or, at least…”

“What happened?” Lana asked. Her hands were busying themselves in his hair, brushing back strands just above his ear to help relax him.

“It… It got close. It was as if it was on a loop… Always… Getting to that point, with you - it - on - on top, and then, just before, everything became real again. And they'd… Start over.”

“That's terrible,” Lana said with a frown. “The way I see it, we have two options.”

“Which are...?”

“We can play this out exactly as you remember, only follow through. We break the loop. Or, if this is too much, we can stop.”

“And… What are… your feelings on that?” Cullen asked as he eyed Alistair. The man cracked a grin from afar.

“Judging by the look on her face, and the conversation we had last night about it, she's very excited about comparing templars, if you catch my drift.”

“You really don't mind watching another man… With your wife?”

“He likes it,” Lana said with a smirk. A groan left Cullen's throat of its own accord as she shifted herself against his straining erection that begged to be freed from his breeches. “He enjoys watching me being pleased. And I enjoy him enjoying it.”

“Well, if… If no one objects, we could always try to… See how far we can get.”

“That's the spirit,” Alistair said encouragingly. “I only have one rule - well, two rules: One - what's your watchword, my dear?”

“Wicker.” Cullen watched Lana's cheeks flush ever so slightly as the world left her tongue, then his eyes flickered back to focus on Alistair as he continued.

“That's right: Wicker. You hear that word, Commander, and you stop. You can use the same if you'd like. Rule number two: no coming in my wife. Yes, I realize we're wardens and wardens don't get pregnant often, but just humor me. Agree to those simple things and I'll let you in on a little secret - If you rub her ears too firmly a few times she'll come, so, avoid that. Unless you want her to come. In which case, it is a nice little trick.”

“Oh, Maker,” Lana sighed with a smile. Cullen chuckled nervously at Alistair’s suggestion. Maker, was he really going to go through with this? Would he even make it to that moment with her? Did she really want this?

As Lana leaned forward and took Cullen’s lips with hers he realized, yes, she did want this. Lana may have been rather obviously allowing Cullen to pick their pace, but she gave herself away in the way her hips gingerly rocked every now and then to rub against his straining erection, as if she couldn’t help herself. Cullen’s hands slowly snuck back to her waist. A strangled hum vibrated in his throat as he felt her breath shake against his lips, as if such a simple touch from him had evoked such a strong response. Memories flashed behind Cullen's closed eyes, little glimpses of watching her from afar so many years ago, always from afar. There were no rules now to stand between them, no blatant imbalances of power to keep his conscience from allowing him this.

Maker, he didn't think he could stop kissing her even if he wanted to. Each kiss from her melded into his subconscious, each further and further from the frightful memories he had associated her lips with before. He felt as if he were truly breathing for the first time in her presence, a clear headed feeling he hadn't felt since his last draught of lyrium, and he needed more.

“May I?”

Cullen's lips slowed to a halt as she spoke against them. He pulled back just far enough to glance down at her fingers that played with the lacing of his shirt. With a nod, Cullen watched as Lana slowly unlaced his shirt until it was nice and loose. Then she took his hand, directing his fingers towards the lace on the large shirt she wore. Cullen flushed crimson, realizing that doing so would reveal quite a bit more on her than it did on him. He swallowed as she molded his fingers to grip the lace, then he slowly pulled.

As her skin was revealed, inch by inch, Cullen felt himself seizing up. His eyes were glued to her, staring at her skin just below her clavicle as the fabric pulled away as slowly as his fingers allowed it to. He felt his mind going dark, everything around him swirling, Lana's posture slackened as she caught on to the change in Cullen's appearance when, suddenly, he saw the tip of an old scar. It poked out from under the lacing as it loosened, just on the right at the edge of the top of her breast.

Cullen's breath released heavily, and he let go of the lace. The rest of it fell, the fabric sliding from her shoulders with it. Cullen's eyes stared at the scar, unable to take his eyes off of it as she sat on his lap with the shirt pooled at her hips. He swallowed hard, raising his hand to draw his fingers over the scar. Its edges were rough, not the work of steel - no, a claw, perhaps? From the corner of his eye, Cullen caught a glimpse of another: one just above her hip, mostly obscured by the fabric of the shirt. He clasped his hands to her waist, causing her to squeak in surprise as he lifted her off his lap and set her to stand in front of him.

“Everything okay…?” Alistair's question went unanswered as Cullen gently slipped the shirt from Lana's hips until it pooled at her feet. Cullen remained seated in front of her, his face barely an arm's length from her as he hunched over to look at the scar. This one ran from her hip to mere inches diagonal to her navel. It was sharp, piercing, the work of something sharp and rounded - definitely steel, unlike the other. It was covered by a burn, almost hand-shaped in appearance, as if someone had placed their burning palm to her flesh to cauterize the first wound.

Lana's skin was reddening under his gaze and touch, standing before him in her breast band and breeches. Her head tilted as she watched him stare at her scars, trying to figure out what the significance was as he gently took her hand and traced the scar on her arm - the one that gave her the most nightmares of them all. She bit her lip as he focused on that one, setting aside whatever feelings she had of it for the moment. Then his eyes shot up to her shoulder and he spun her with his hands. Her eyes widened as she stumbled to keep her balance from the sudden movement, making contact with Alistair's gaze as his brows lifted. Cullen was running his fingers over the burn on her right shoulder, and Lana and Alistair's heads tilted almost in unison as they heard what sounded like Cullen laughing.

“Cullen?” His name was drawn out on Lana's tongue. Alistair sat up in his chair, craning his neck in order to see the Commander's face. His eyes were slightly watering, a look of almost disbelief on his face as he quietly laughed. If it hadn't been for the smile on his face, Alistair would have been more concerned. The two of them waited, giving Cullen a moment, before he finally spoke.

“You have scars.” The words left Cullen, and Lana felt the relief they carried with them. She relaxed instantly, smiling as she laughed as well.

“It didn't have scars, did it?” She asked, and Alistair instantly slumped back in understanding.

“None at all.”

Lana's body was peppered with them: big scars, little ones, each telling their own story, and Cullen had never known. The demon had drawn on his knowledge of her, filling in the blanks as he would have imagined: it had been unmarked; flawless light olive skin that had matched her face, save for the nail sized nick just near her left eye. Each scar was proof that she was different, that she was her, the one who saved him from that terror all those years ago, not the cause. Each scar was proof, and of them she had many.

Cullen stood as Lana turned and took his hand, pulling him from the chair. She walked him towards the bed, her legs barely hitting the edge before he pulled her towards him and bent low to meet her lips.

“Walk me through it.” Lana's words bounced off Cullen's lips between kisses.

“Through…?”

“What happened next?”

Cullen slowly parted from her kiss, the reality of everything coming back to him. His cheeks flushed as he straightened, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he glanced at the bed. He silently kicked himself in his mind as he felt his nervousness setting in once more.

“Well, I was… We were on the ground… You - I mean - It, r - removed my clothes, and its… Clothes...”

“Do you want to change that?”

“H - How so?”

“It removed everything… How about you do it this time? Let it be your choice.”

Cullen slowly nodded his head as he considered it. His eyes wandered down to her breasts, barely covered by the cotton that bound it back. He averted his gaze as he felt his face burn, quickly deciding to remove his shirt first. He grabbed the hem, pulling it over his head and taking his time setting it to the side. Cullen could feel the burning traveling down his shoulders and across his chest as his hands found the laces of his trousers. Chancing a glance at Lana, he felt his stomach do a bit of a leap as he watched her teeth bite lightly on her lower lip - right on that callus - all the while her eyes were glued to his hands as they pulled at the strings. Maker, she wasn't trying to hide how much she wanted him, and it made him more careless as he let the trousers drop to the floor at his feet.

As he tried to step out of the legs of his trousers, Cullen felt himself turn beet red as he realized one fatal mistake - his boots. He dropped down to crouch, sputtering apologies in his smalls as he tore at the laces of his boots and tried to kick them off as if doing so would curse their very existence.

“Alistair didn't even get his boots off our first time, if that makes you feel any better,” Lana said with a light and understanding laugh.

“Traitor, you're not supposed to tell people that,” Alistair scoffed, though the grin on his face gave his levity away.

“Not just me, then?” Cullen mumbled. He tried to take a breath to shake the embarrassment. The feeling faded away soon enough as he saw Lana's feet stepping closer to him.

“My turn, I believe?” She asked sweetly. Cullen slowly trailed his eyes over her form from where he was crouched, starting at her feet and moving up her cloth covered legs to the skin of her belly, all the way to her ocean blue eyes that sparkled down at him. Maker, he could crouch there all day, he decided. Boots shifted to the side and trousers with them, Cullen shifted to his knees as his eyes zeroed in on the laces of her breeches. He unconsciously licked his lower lip for a moment as he reached out to grasp the string. His heart was pounding, hand shaking ever so slightly as he pulled at the knot until it loosened, then placed a hand on either side of her hips, ensuring his index fingers were touching her skin to feel her as he pulled the breeches down.

Lana stepped out of the breeches one foot at a time as Cullen pulled them for her. Standing, he looked around the room as if there would be instructions written on the wall. When he met Lana's eyes again she merely smiled in a manner that seemed almost mischievous.

“I believe I'm still clothed, Cullen.”

Maker, but she was. Two strips of fabric kept her from being known to him. Two simple, measly strips of fabric, one which seemed a miracle it was holding her breasts back at all.

“Which… Um… Which one should I…?”

“I vote the breasts,” Alistair piped in suddenly from his chair. Lana shot a look at him that clearly told him to stop meddling, to which he threw his hands up in defense and added, “Just a suggestion. I apparently don't get a vote, sooo…”

“Whichever you prefer,” Lana cut in, turning her attention back to Cullen. Whichever he preferred… Maker, was there a preference to be had? In that moment, everything so very different from his traumatic past, it felt not unlike being presented with two gifts on Satinalia: two gifts which went hand-in-hand, each which would be opened eventually. Just… Which order?

Cullen let Alistair decide for him. It was simpler that way, though he wasn't sure he wouldn't have done the same in different circumstances. The grey breast band wrapped around her chest seemed to have a difficult task. It got the job done, if that job was only to hold her breasts in place long enough to get her armor on which would surely help with the rest. The world had seen plenty of advances in armor and weaponry, but, it seemed, these had scarcely seen an upgrade since the Exalted Age.

Standing and stepping close enough to reach around her back, Cullen peered over Lana's head to eye the knot. He fiddled with it a bit, gritting his teeth at one point when it seemed the knot had possibly gotten tighter, when suddenly he felt it pop free. He gingerly took a step back as it fell to the ground, his eyes shamelessly glued to her breasts. Cullen could tell Lana was blushing, but, Maker help him, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He barely even registered the happy hum of approval from Alistair over in his corner, until Lana spoke.

“Would you like me to take care of this?” Her eyes were on his, watching his eyes follow her hand as she hooked her fingers in the corner of her smalls. Cullen managed a nod, and took a step back as she slipped them down.

A breath escaped Cullen as she stood before him. When first he had gazed upon the demon’s form - her form, twisted by what it had read in his mind - it had given off a feeling. Cullen couldn't explain it more than that. It hadn't felt right. It had felt conniving, eerie, like a dark, thorny path in the woods on an otherwise sunny day, riddled with tempting berries that carried an uncertain fate to whomsoever was foolish enough to pluck one and eat it. As Lana stood before him now, she seemed to glow in his mind. There was nothing eerie about her - her scars reminded him of that. And, Maker, she was perfect.

“Almost.” Cullen stopped in his tracks as Lana piped in after he had taken one step towards her. He furrowed his brows in confusion, only to catch her drift as her eyes trailed downwards on his body with a sly smile. “Not quite fair… Is it?”

“I suppose not,” he chuckled as he flushed once more. Cullen slid his smalls down, pink spreading across his body as his cock stood at full attention in the cool room.

“So…” Lana smiled, glancing eagerly at his length before looking back up at Cullen while she walked back towards the bed. She sat at the edge before sliding into the middle and patting the mattress as she continued to steal glances of him. “You were on the ground? I thought a bed may be more comfortable. I can move to the floor if you'd like.”

“No - No, you're right. A bed is… Better.” Cullen nodded as he followed her over. He slid onto the bed, suddenly aware of how strange the whole situation must have been. Here he was lying naked on a bed, with a naked woman, and her fully clothed husband sitting in the corner - and yet, there was a part of it that excited him, enough to keep him wanting to see how this would all play out.

“What happened next?”

Cullen took a deep breath as he prepared to answer her question.

“It… Sat on my legs, and began to… Situate. And that… That's when it all ended. And became… Then it turned, and…” Cullen sighed shakily, closing his eyes as Lana ran her fingers softly through his golden hair.

“We can take our time,” she said softly at his side. “We don't have to do this all tonight, Cullen. You're doing wonderful. If this is too much -”

“No.” Cullen said it firmly, shaking his head adamantly. He turned his head to the side to look at her, focusing on the scar on her chest, the top of the burn on her right shoulder, a cluster of freckles below her collarbone he had never seen before, all the differences. “I don't want to associate it with you anymore. I - I wasn’t certain before, but now... I want to do this.”

“Good.” Lana smiled, running her fingers through his shallow chest hair. “Because, I have to admit… Ever since you took your smalls off, I've been curious what you'll feel like…”

“Maker's breath.” Cullen nervously laughed, unable to say much else. He had never felt less suave in his entire life, he was sure of it. He blinked, watching as Lana straightened her body and slowly slid her leg over his side. Seeing her above him then, her hands on his chest, fiery copper hair in the candlelight, his mind began swirling. Lana watched as the color drained from his face, his hands gripped onto the blanket beneath him as if it were his only lifeline.

“Cullen?” She spoke his name softly. Placing her hands on either side of his face she could feel him beginning to sweat. His eyes seemed to stare right through her, as if he were lost in a deep memory. “Cullen?”

Alistair got up from his chair when Cullen didn't move. Cullen's breath was heavy, his muscles tense as Alistair crouched down next to the bed and put his hand on Cullen's shoulder.

“Come on, Rutherford,” Alistair said firmly, giving him a good shake. Alistair's voice seemed to snap him out of it, his voice and way of addressing him not too different from how he had addressed him when they were both Templar trainees. Cullen swallowed as he met Alistair's eyes, then he turned and looked back at Lana.

“Do it.”

“What?” Lana was shocked at Cullen's request. It left him more like a command than a plea, determination coursing over his tongue. Alistair had backed off again to his chair, trying his best to let the two of them work through it now that Cullen seemed to be back.

“I want it to end. Please.”

“Then end it,” Lana said. “You said this was where it changed… So change it. Take control. What do you want to do?”

It had never happened before. In his nightmares, reliving that hell he had been through, it played over just the same as he had experienced: everything but, her soft legs wrapped around his torso, melting away into purple and horror before he could even experience her. He knew exactly what he wanted to do to change it.

Cullen grasped Lana by the waist, holding her in place as he rolled them until he was on top of her while she squeaked shortly in surprise. Lana hummed as his lips crashed to hers, whimpers bubbling in her throat as his fingers delved between them to test how wet she was. Maker, she was soaking, clearly having been ready for this since the moment she sat on his lap what seemed like ages ago to him.

In normal circumstances, Cullen would have liked to have taken his time. These were anything but normal circumstances. Desperate to break the cycle, to have something new to add to the loop, Cullen slid up slightly, groaning low in unison with Lana's loudening whimpers as he rubbed his cock against her heat, coating it in her quim. He sat back just enough to glance between them, taking his hard cock in hand as he guided it to her entrance.

Cullen's breath was loud, relieved as he felt her heat surround him. It was as if glass had been his prison and it had shattered all around him the moment her mouth hung open with a moan that echoed throughout the room. The sound made him shiver, and he watched Lana as her brow furrowed near her shut eyes, hands gripping the blanket as she fought the urge to roll her hips until he was ready. She was waiting for him to be ready. Cullen pulled back with his hips before gently thrusting back into her. His eyes rolled slightly at the feel of her, quickly opening again to watch as her chest arched slightly with each thrust. Maker, she was already making so much noise, and he was barely doing anything. The thought made Cullen feel warm, stroking his ego as he moved one hand from her hip to balance on the mattress near her face.

Lana arched towards him, her mouth hanging open as her lips curled into a smile. Maker, Cullen felt different than Alistair. Alistair was gifted when it came to his size - she knew that from the few she had been able to compare by then. Cullen still filled her well, though, very well, in a way that didn't stretch too much for comfort. Oh, Maker, and that slight curve Cullen had to him - that was new, that was very nice.

Her arms reached up, wrapping around to Cullen's back as he pressed his chest closer to her. Lana took advantage of Cullen's shoulder being level with her lips, pulling him closer to moan loudly against his skin as his thrusts became more purposeful. His hand slipped down to her thigh, pulling until her legs were wrapped around his hips. Cullen slid his hand over every inch of her he could reach, memorizing the feel of her, embedding the memory of her and this moment deep in his mind: he felt the difference between the soft skin of her breast to the scar his thumb ran over; the curve over the peak of her nipple, the way she shuddered and gasped as he grasped over it; the dip over her navel, down to the rough and smooth of the burn that lay over the bump of the long, deep scar just near her hip; and the sweet, sweet way his fingers could dig into the flesh of her bottom, the way her moans became louder and louder as he pulled her towards him while he became totally and incandescently lost in her.

Time slowed down for Cullen, and at the last possible moment he suddenly remembered one of Alistair's rules. His abdomen was tightening, his body practically lifting as he felt his end near so soon after only just beginning. Grasping her legs Cullen peeled her from his body, pulling out of her and grasping his cock with his hand as he sat up on his knees. He groaned loudly, covering the tip with his palm as he pulsed and spurted into his hand. Cullen gasped, suddenly finding the room less than full of air to him. He gave himself a few hearty, slow strokes, ensuring that he had been emptied of every last drop before falling back to sit on the bed.

The sound of Lana's happy humming made the corners of Cullen's mouth twitch into a lazy grin. He lifted his head to look her over, finding her still in the position he had left her: on her back, practically spread eagled with a wide grin on her face and flushed skin all over. As her eyes fluttered open and she met his gaze, Cullen felt his insides flip for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

“How did we do?” She asked breathlessly, and Cullen couldn't help but chuckle.

“I would say… We did a perfect job.”

“Think you'll have better thoughts in your mind when you see me now?”

“I - Yes, I... I think I have quite the image to think of now.” Cullen flinched slightly as a cloth hit his shoulder. He looked down, picking up the light blue handkerchief Alistair had tossed at him before looking at the warden questioningly.

“I promise, it's clean.” Alistair winked as he lifted himself off the chair. Cullen nodded in sudden understanding, flushing as he used the handkerchief to clean his hand off. He looked up as Alistair approached the bed, watching as the man looked over his wife with a sparkling interest and a smirk that even made Cullen blush. “I hope you haven't been tired out just yet… My turn, yes?”

#spicy #lana surana #alistair theirin #cullen rutherford #cullanistair #lanistair #cullana #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #my ocs #my writing #fanfiction #the start of a beautiful friendship lmao

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breakingsomething · 4 years

Text

october tenth - part four (end)

basic summary: while jack bonds with chase and someone new, anti tries to fight back his ever growing pain by making many, many bad decisions. tagging @beebmo for inspiring this idea!

trigger warnings: blood, murder mention, self harm, suicidal ideation, knives

aiden finally came home five days after their fight.

jack had just been making coffee, wearing only his flamingo shorts and a pair of mismatched socks. no one was here anyway, and he had a few videos prerecorded, so he didn't really have to do much of anything. might as well just do whatever. he let his head hit the kitchen sideboard, half falling asleep standing up as he waited for the coffee maker to finish.

when he sat up, aiden was standing next to the door.

"bloody mother of mary, aiden!" jack cried, jumping and accidentally slamming his elbow into the table. then he took a closer look at him. aiden looked… so tired. big bags under his eyes, curly hair greasy and skin pale. he was wearing an oversized purple hoodie that jack didn't recognize, and he was staring at the ground in front of him, not daring to look up.

"oh, shit, aiden," jack murmured, much softer. he wasn't sure what to do, nervously cracking his knuckles and rubbing the back of his neck. "i'm - i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i shouldn't have hidden it from you, i shouldn't have tried to hide it, i should have -"

aiden cut him off. "save it," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "it's cool. i don't wanna talk about it anymore."

jack nodded, his eyes suddenly burning. the coffee maker pinged, and he turned and busied himself with that, afraid that if he kept looking at aiden he'd start crying again. he'd been doing enough of that lately.

aiden was suddenly standing beside him. "i'd hug you," he joked. "but you're not wearing a shirt and it might be a bit weird."

jack cracked a small grin, and aiden just stared into the sink, neither one looking at the other. everything felt very odd between them for some reason. like in the few days they'd been apart, the distance between them had stretched for another thousand miles.

"so you're… aiden, you're gonna stay here, right?" jack asked tentatively, not wanting to set him off again. aiden's expression soured, his eyebrows narrowing, and his fingers dug into his sleeve.

"don't call me that." he almost spat, and jack set down his mug to properly look at him.

"call you… aid, that's your name. what else -"

"anti," he said, not glancing up from the sink. "call me anti."

they were silent for a moment. and for that moment, jack saw something in his friend that made his heart feel so much heavier than he could have imagined. something that he couldn't have explained if he tried. it was like the pain of losing something important to you. the pain of looking at something you love and knowing it's not going to be around much longer. and just the thought of that made jack's eyes well up with tears, and he turned away before he pulled his friend into a hug and never let go.

"ok," he said quietly. "ok."

nothing was the same.

despite staying in the same house as him, aiden was definitely avoiding jack. he barely saw him, and when he did, they almost never spoke. and when they did… jack couldn't bring himself to call his friend "anti." the name felt so… harsh. so painful. like aiden had just rejected everything that jack had ever made him, given him, those almost four years of friendship. was jack really that much of a terrible friend that aiden would just throw everything away?

apparently so. but soon, jack found something else to distract himself with - an unnamed number he recognized calling him up one morning while he was washing dishes. he'd raced into the living room to answer it upon hearing the default ringtone, but aiden was already there, holding it out to him without looking.

"it's the hat wearing one," he said nonchalantly, staring down at his laptop screen. jack bit his lip and took the phone, wondering if aiden was hoping he wouldn't answer, if he was supposed to put the phone down and tell aiden he was the only one who mattered. but his friend's expression gave nothing away, and jack uncertainly left the room and stood outside the door, answering the call.

"...chase?" he faltered. "that you?"

he heard a breath on the other end of the line. jack leaned against the wall, hitting his head again it gently.

"is this a butt dial call?" he tried to lighten the tension. "or one of the kids? hello, connor, louise, is that you?"

another second of silence. jack hesitated.

"if… if this is one of the kids…" he started. "can you tell your father i'm sorry i freaked him out, and i'm sorry i didn't tell him the whole truth straight away when i should have? i only made things worse for all of us, and i was stupid. will you tell him that? please?"

there was a small chuckle. "hey. it's just me," chase murmured. "just me. sorry to disappoint."

jack snorted, a smile appearing on his lips. "aw man, get off the line. put connor on the phone." relief filled him when chase laughed, a full, real laugh. then he sighed, biting his lip. "listen, chase… i -"

"can we talk irl?" chase interrupted. "i, uh, don't have a lot to do today and… i wanna get out the house anyway."

jack nodded, feeling dumb when he remembered chase couldn't see him. "yeah, sure, absolutely," he said, running a hand through his hair. ugh, he could feel how greasy it was. he had been wearing a hat for videos because he'd been too lazy to wash it. "let me take a shower first. then we can… costa?"

he heard chase exhale. "yeah, yeah. costa sounds good right now."

once he'd hung up, jack had to go through the living room to get to his own room. aiden barely looked up at him as he passed through, pausing hesitantly by the stairs. "aid - anti?" he questioned. "are you alright?"

aiden grunted, not taking his eyes off his laptop. jack waited for a second before speaking again. "i'm going out with chase." at this, aiden blinked, his expression changing for only a split second before he got it under control again. he didn't reply for a moment.

"good for you," he mumbled, and pulled his computer closer to him so it covered his face. jack sighed before going up the stairs to get ready.

once he'd showered and gotten changed, he took a moment to just look at himself in the mirror. he looked exhausted. he'd barely been sleeping lately, opting to cover the bags under his eyes in makeup so no fans would be concerned for him. his hair was getting too long, swooping almost in front of his eyes. he would have to get that cut soon. his lips were chapped and slightly bloody from how often he bit them, and his skin was blotchy from how much he'd been crying. he looked exhausted. he looked pathetic.

he tried again with aiden on the way out. "hey, man. i'm… you're gonna be ok here?"

aiden finally looked up at that, unamused. "yes, jack. i will be fine on my own." he monotoned, and jack winced. "go do your thing with jinx hat. i'll be perfectly fine, thanks for the concern."

jack swallowed and left without another word.

chase was waiting for him in costa, biting his knuckles and staring out the window. jack nearly lost all courage and turned round, but really… he had nothing left to lose at this point. besides, chase had seen him through the glass and had visibly brightened, sitting up and waving. despite himself, jack smiled as he went inside.

"hey," he said as he sat down across from him. chase looked tired too, but he managed a smile. "how have, uh… how've you been holding up?"

chase shrugged, spreading his hands out. "'bout as well as i can be," he said casually, spinning his phone round the table on its pop socket. "everything's been a bit… hectic, recently. i don't know. what about you?"

jack mimicked chase's shrug. "same for me, i guess." he hesitated. "look, i'm sorry about… the subway thing. that was a lot, and i'm sorry."

chase gave a shuddering breath. "oh, yeah, that was definitely a lot." he glanced up, tilting his head back slightly on his chair. "but i'm totally over it." he laughed. "actually, no, i'm very much not. i don't know why i said that."

jack nodded. "do you want me to try and explain?"

"oh, please do."

they got up and ordered (a green tea with a white chocolate and raspberry muffin for chase, a flat white coffee and chocolate chip cookie for jack), and talked quietly as they did so. well, this time jack mostly talked, chase listening. by the time they'd sat back down with their stuff, jack had pretty much filled him in on everything.

"holy crap," chase murmured. "that's… a lot. once again."

"are you alright?" jack asked. "i get that i, like, just blew your entire existence. if that makes any sense."

"give me a couple minutes to come to terms with this," chase said, sipping his drink. they were silent, both lost in their own heads.

"this is a prank," chase eventually concluded, turning to look jack right in the eyes. "right? where are the cameras or whatever, is this some kind of prank show that you're a part of?" he laughed without humor. "very funny, you really got me."

"chase, i swear -" jack started, but chase cut him off.

"i looked up that youtube channel you told me about," he said. "jacksepticeye? looked it up. it doesn't exist. shit's not real. god, you could have at least tried."

jack blinked in shock. "but it - it does!" he spluttered. he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. "here, i'll show -"

"i'm not a complete goddamn moron, jack," chase muttered, but then jack pulled up his channel which was, thankfully, still there, and chase's eyes widened.

"but i - i looked it up last night on my computer - there was nothing!" he stammered. he slumped back in his seat. "i swear, there was - i'm not lying!"

jack shifted in his seat, suddenly restless. "i don't know. i don't know, ok? maybe you spelled it wrong." and before chase could protest further, jack changed the subject. "anyway, fuck. i don't wanna think about all the technical improbabilities of this fucking world. i don't even know what i am to be able to create people."

chase fanned his face with his hands, breathing heavily. "fuck!" he said, a bit too loudly. "fuck, man." he suddenly stilled. "so does your friend hate me? aiden?"

jack paused before nodding slowly. "uh, at the moment, yes. but… maybe if you got to know each other, that could change?" he winced. "i don't know. that sounds dumb. but… what do you think?"

chase unwrapped his muffin, also nodding. "i mean, yeah. i'd be down. if you're certain he wouldn't kill me."

jack laughed, relaxing slightly. "he wouldn't kill you, man. he's just… he's a bit aggressive sometimes. he's got some antisocial tendencies. and he's, uh, a bit… doesn't like new people."

"yeah, i definitely got that," chase said, and they both laughed.

a few days passed by. chase and jack kept in touch, meeting up a few times to walk around town and talk. aiden continued to avoid talking to jack. and with the end of september came a burst of extreme cold so bad that school was briefly cancelled and everyone was to stay inside as much as possible.

"it's never this cold, even in england," jack joked to aiden, who was sitting at the kitchen table on his phone. he didn't even acknowledge jack had spoken.

suddenly, he'd had enough. "are you ever going to talk to me again?" he demanded. aiden made a face, and jack felt anger and hurt rising up in his chest. "please, aiden, anti, whatever, can you just -"

"hard to want to talk to you when you won't even respect my choice to change my name," aiden interrupted, and jack deflated. he blinked away the tears that rose up in his eyes.

"anti," he said finally. anti looked up, something in his eyes that jack didn't recognize. "anti. i'm sorry i've been such a douche. ok? i'm - what else do you want, man?"

anti didn't say anything. then he craned his neck to look at the ceiling, leaning back in his chair. "dunno," he mumbled. "to go back in time, i guess."

that wasn't something jack could do. he chewed the inside of his mouth and stayed quiet.

anti stared at the flats, biting his lip with frustration.

they'd fucking spelled the place. anywhere he tried to get in just shocked him, so badly he couldn't seem to push through. had it been the cat who'd done it, or something other powerful magician that the two of them knew? it didn't matter. he couldn't fucking get in.

he cursed red and the cat under his breath. they were smart, he could see that. and powerful. far too powerful. it might even end up that they could be a match for anti.

whatever. they couldn't stay in there forever. he'd get them one day. one day. and then they'd fucking pay.

chase called him that night in tears.

"chase - chase, calm, i can't understand what you're saying," jack said, pacing the kitchen with his phone to his ear. anti, on the couch in the other room, snorted loudly.

"she's k-kicking me out," chase sobbed, voice slightly slurred. jack could hear car horns in the background. "she says 'm a bad example for th'kids, says she's afraid i'll - i'll hurt -" he cried out, the connection fuzzing for a moment. "i wouldn't hurt them, jack!"

"hey, hey, i know you wouldn't," jack consoled, trying to stay calm. "chase, where are you?"

there was a rush of noise on the other end and then the call went dead.

"f- oh, for fuck's sake!" jack despaired. he went round the corner to the living room, looking in at anti. "dude, can you help me?"

anti yawned dramatically, stretching his arms above his head. "with what?" he asked slowly, knowing exactly what jack was going to ask.

"chase is - his wife kicked him out, apparently, he sounded drunk and upset, i need you to help me find him. you can track cell phone signals, right?" jack blurted. anti sighed, rolling his eyes.

"hmm, some days i can. other days i just… can't, you know?" anti said with a small smirk. jack balled his fists up and resisted the urge to scream.

"anti, for fuck's sake, i am not kidding around tonight," jack spat, practically shaking with silent rage. "can you help me or should i go out looking for him myself?"

anti blinked at jack's anger. he evidently hadn't been expecting jack to be so upset. "ok, yeah, i can track signals," he mumbled. he got to his feet, swaying slightly on the spot. "i'll - fuck, i guess i'll help if you want."

"thank you, anti," jack said softly. anti just made a noise and grabbed his jacket, going towards the door.

anti traced the signal all right, but the time they got to where it had been, chase was long gone. anti tried to find the signal again to locate where chase's phone was now, but in such a big city with so many people, everything got muddled up into one. they searched for hours, to no avail, and went home defeated.

"can't believe i wasted my evening on that fucker," anti announced as they walked back in. "fucking waste of time, waste of a good -"

"thanks anyway," jack interrupted before anti could go on a spiel. "you, uh, didn't have to help me, but thank you for doing that. even if we - yeah."

anti softened for just a moment, brown eyes warming, before glancing away from jack and stiffening again. "whatever," he mumbled, and said nothing more.

chase called him the next afternoon. "jack!" he said, sounding a lot more chipper than jack had expected him to. "jack, my friend, i have something awesome to tell you!"

jack furrowed his brow. "didn't your - man, are you ok? where were you last night?"

he could almost hear chase grinning. "stayed with my new friend henrik!" he said. "and i think you'll definitely want to meet him!"

jack yawned, rubbing the space between his eyes. "mmhmm, yeah. chase, do you have any idea how long me and anti spent searching for you last night?"

chase paused. "oh, shit. man, i'm - i'm sorry. i got… extremely drunk." he gave an embarrassed laugh. "really sorry. i meant to call again."

"yeah, it's cool," jack said, shaking his head. "i'm sorry about your wife, man, it's a shitty situation. why do you want me to meet your friend?"

"oh, you definitely will," chase said, and jack could hear someone shout something in the background. "i'm fucking hungover as all hell, dude, and i feel like absolute shit in every sense, but i think we should meet up. uh, maybe tomorrow, cause i think i might throw up sometime very soon. can we do that? i need something to take my mind off of, well, everything."

jack heard a crash from the other room, and anti cursing loudly. "uh, yeah, if you wanna. where?"

"i'm - i'm pretty broke, not gonna lie. henrik's pretty well off at the moment, but we decided to go cheap. you ok with mcdonalds?"

jack peeked into the living room. anti had dropped his glass of water, and it had smashed on the floor. he was on his hands and knees, attempting to pick up the pieces. "yeah, sounds cool. i gotta go, k?"

"yep!" chase said cheerfully. "see you at maybe twelve or so tomorrow?"

jack made a noise of affirmation and hung up, rushing into the living room. "anti, you ok?"

he didn't say anything, just continued trying to pick up the glass with his hands. jack sighed. "man, don't do that, you're gonna hurt yourself."

"don't give a shit," anti mumbled. he gave a small gasp and dropped a piece, grabbing at his wrist.

"aid - fuck's sake, get back." jack pushed anti's hands away and scooped up the glass with a dustpan. "how did you drop the glass, did you trip or something?"

anti made several odd noises. "hands are just really shaky lately," he said quietly, and when jack turned to look at him, there was blood slowly dripping down his arm.

"shit," jack groaned. he took the glass and dumped it in a bag before putting it in the outside bin. "i'll help -"

"i'm ok," anti insisted. he stood up, shaking out his hands. "i can deal with it myself."

"anti, wait," jack protested, and in a moment of desperation, grabbed anti's arm as he tried to bolt away to his room. anti gasped in pain and shoved jack off him, pushing him into the wall.

"fuck off, jay!" anti said angrily. he held his arm close to him - the arm he hadn't hurt with the glass, jack noticed. "seriously, mind your own!"

"anti, are you hurt?" jack frowned. anti stepped back onto the stairs, shaking.

"yeah, i just cut my bloody hand with a piece of fucking glass. you were right there." anti spat. "now i'm gonna go up to my room, if you don't mind."

jack couldn't even protest as anti glitched out of sight. somewhere above him, a door slammed.

oh, but it hurt.

not the cut on his hand. that was barely a scratch. but his body. oh, his body fucking burned. every inch of his body was constantly wracked with pain, like permanent pins and needles throughout his entire being. anti had never hurt like this all at once before.

and it was constant. constant. for nearly three weeks now, he had been like this; barely able to move half the time, his head throbbing and feeling like a thick soup. some days he physically could not move, no matter how much he tried. he wouldn't even be able to speak or cry out for jack, not that he would have even if he could. he became static at random times, his phone and laptop short circuited, he was constantly sick and depressed and so, so angry.

and he'd tried everything to fix it, everything. he'd drank a shitton of alcohol one night, resulting in a seizure that lasted almost a full minute. he'd went out running, thinking maybe the exercise would help, but that had somehow made it worse. he'd even tried causing himself voluntary pain, like that would help the rest of the pain dull, but it did nothing. everything hurt. everything hurt.

he was dying. that was the idea that had planted itself in his brain, and he couldn't shake it out. he was dying and it would only be a matter of time before he couldn't physically form at all, left just a glitching husk of nothingness, and then gone entirely. no one would notice but jack. no one would even notice but jack.

and maybe… his mind drifted to rhudy. rhudy who was so nice to him. rhudy who didn't lie to him or abandon him. anti almost wanted to go see him.

anti was going to die and it was jack's fault.

he's trying to kill you, was the delusion that he had convinced himself was truth. jack wanted him dead so he could spend all his time with chase, so that he could find the doctor and the hero and the magician, the ones who weren't broken and fucked up like anti was. he wanted anti gone. he wanted anti dead.

anti hugged himself and tried not to shake or throw up. he felt so fucking replused with himself, with everything.

he wanted to go see rhudy. he wanted to, but he didn't want jack asking questions, he didn't want to talk to jack at all. feeling sick, he sat up on his bed and let out a shuddering sigh. he wanted to go see rhudy.

maybe he didn't have to tell jack, he suddenly thought. it wasn't like he'd care anyway. as soon as that thought entered his mind, he stood right up, his head rushing from the movement. anti stumbled over to the window, yanking it open despite how his bandaged arms screamed in pain, and swung his legs over the windowsill. he was on the second floor, and it was maybe five meters or so to the ground - not enough to kill him. he pushed off the sill and glitched before hitting the grass, landing safely with a soft thump. for a second he doubled over, nearly screaming from the sudden pain, then straightened and began to jog unsteadily in the direction of the high street.

it was starting to get dark as he reached the store. he could see rhudy standing out the front, smoking a cigarette and scrolling through his phone. even from here, anti could see he had google open and was searching up "ikeas near me." he almost laughed as he walked over, swaying on his feet as his legs burned.

rhudy looked up as he got closer, a grin breaking across his face. "hey, anti, what are you doing here this time of day?" he asked warmly. then his smile faded as he saw the state anti was in. "hey man, you ok?"

anti didn't say a word. he just threw his arms around rhudy's neck, holding on tightly as his legs gave out beneath him.

"anti!" rhudy exclaimed. he helped anti walk over to the shop door, unlocking it with a key from his pocket. "shit, man, what's up?"

anti groaned, clinging to rhudy's shoulder. "you own this store?" he mumbled.

"uh, yeah, i do," he said, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights. "i might have forgot to mention. you're hurting, aren't you? i can't - usually i can figure out reasons, but not now, for some reason."

he helped anti sit down in a chair at the side of the room near a stack of vinyls. anti didn't usually spend a lot of time in the main section of the store, so while rhudy rushed to the back to get him some water, he took a minute to properly look around. the store looked a lot smaller in the busy hours when there were tons of people, but he could now see how big it actually was. everything was in rows and stacks, signs detailing what sections each thing was in hanging from the ceiling. the walls were a light green and windows stretched all the way round them, letting in the soft evening lights and showing off the streets outside. it made anti feel very exposed, and he curled in on himself, hugging his shoulders.

"here," rhudy said, handing him a plastic bottle and sitting down next to him. anti smile gratefully and took several gulps, his hands still trembling so badly he spilled some water down his front.

"are you ok, man?" rhudy asked quietly. "you're shaking, what happened?"

"nothing," anti murmured, attempting to screw the cap back on the bottle. after a moment of watching him struggle, rhudy took it and did it himself, letting out a small laugh as anti's face turned red and he mumbled a thanks under his breath.

"are you sure it was nothing?" rhudy said. he turned his head to look at anti properly, his brown eyes looking more orange in this lighting. "you can tell me if something's wrong, you know."

anti made a small noise. "can we play some music, or - or something?" he asked, staring down at his bouncing legs. his mind was racing, he needed some kind of fucking distraction.

rhudy nodded, jumping to his feet. "what do you want on? any preferences?" he stopped and made fingers guns at the air, hair falling in his face. "wait, don't tell me. you like…" he suddenly giggled. "you like queen?"

despite it all, a grin spread across anti's face. "wow, you can tell just by looking at me?" he joked, and rhudy laughed as he crossed the room, popping out a vinyl of queen's a night at the opera and holding it up for anti to see before putting it in its player. anti smiled even wider, a pang of something hurting in his chest.

the first few notes of bohemian rhapsody began to play, and rhudy danced round back to anti, clicking his fingers and spinning in circles.

"is this the real life?" he sang dramatically, and anti couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous he looked and sounded. "or is this just fantasy? caught in a landslide, no escape from reality…"

he grabbed anti's hand and pulled him to his feet, twirling him round despite his noises of protest. "i'm just a poor boy, i need no sympathy!" he cried, and anti giggled.

"you're a dumbass!" he grinned, and rhudy raised an eyebrow.

"sing with me then, asshole. you can definitely sing." he challenged.

"is that the clairvoyance talking?" anti asked.

rhudy raised his chin. "let's find out!"

he grabbed anti's hand and pulled him close to his chest. "any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me…"

anti joined in at the next part. "...to me!"

the two of them swayed on the spot, giggling like idiots as they tried to sing. and for some reason, anti suddenly didn't care if anyone looked through the window and saw them. he couldn't even feel the pain anymore. all that mattered was this. not jack, not chase. just this. this man, this song, this fucking moment.

he was sure they both looked ridiculous. rhudy was not the greatest singer, and really, neither was anti, but they both knew all the words and that was what mattered. "too late, my time has come," they sang in unison. "sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time…"

anti paused to take a drink, and rhudy continued dancing by himself, leaving a gap and holding his arms out like he was holding a partner. when anti laughed and joined him again, rhudy twirled him round and nearly dropped him. "mama, ooh!" he crooned. "i don't wanna die, sometimes i wish i'd never been born at all!"

rhudy grabbed his guitar from the table behind him and attempted to play it along with the song but it was too fast and he gave up, pretending to play it instead. as the song sped up, so did they, taking turns singing the galileo's and bursting into fits of laughter.

"so you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?" rhudy yelled, pulling anti closer to him and laughing breathlessly.

"so you think you can love me and leave me to die?" anti yelled after him, and at that point they gave up on singing and collapsed to the floor next to a record stand, wheezing and catching their breaths. and fuck, fuck, it was such a warm, joyful feeling, and for a moment anti didn't even feel any pain, just happiness. all he wanted was to feel like this forever. he wished there was a way he could feel like this forever and never have to stop.

rhudy turned to him, and suddenly their faces were very, very close. far too close. anti's smile faded slightly. this was normal, right? this was how normal people found happiness?

maybe he could feel like this forever.

anti had, obviously, never kissed anyone before. doing so felt… odd, to say the least. it didn't feel like much of anything except touching faces with someone else. but this had to be it, the solution to his problems. this had to be what would make him happy. he'd been so happy while they were dancing and talking… this had to be what those feelings were. it had to be.

and maybe it did feel nice to be so close to another person, and that was what mattered.

he moved his head back to take a breath. rhudy opened his eyes wide, blinking. this close, anti could see pale freckles dotted across rhudy's nose.

"oh," rhudy said softly.

"shit," anti said just as softly.

he kissed him again and it felt wrong and right and it distracted him from the pain and anti never wanted to stop.

the song had ended. the room was getting very dark, as the lights had long ago flickered out. he let out a breath, almost too overwhelmed to speak.

"i - i should close up," rhudy murmured against anti's mouth.

"do that," anti said. "i - i don't really have anywhere to go tonight."

that was a lie.

"you can stay at mine," rhudy said. "if you want."

anti still had time to back out.

"i do want."

the next afternoon, jack was getting ready to go out again.

he wasn't really surprised that anti had gone out. he was more surprised that he had snuck out the window. had he wanted to avoid jack that badly? actually, maybe he wasn't surprised. jack sighed as he attempted to fix his hair in the mirror despite how it kept standing straight up at the ends. whatever. it wasn't like he cared at this point.

chase texted him to let him know he and henrik were inside the mcdonalds. it was crowded, and two little kids slammed into jack's legs as they ran out. frowning, he tried to scan the crowd to see his friend through all the people. he'd said he'd gotten a table, so maybe - ah, there he was, up against the wall and waving cheerily at him despite his clearly tear splotched face, and there was someone with him, someone…

jack stopped walking right in the middle of all the people and didn't breathe.

"jack!" chase called, standing up and beckoning him over. jack almost couldn't move. the man next to chase looked confused as well, tapping his arm rapidly and saying something jack couldn't hear. he slowly walked over to their table, his legs feeling like jelly.

"jack, meet henrik!" chase beamed, gesturing towards the other man. the man who, like chase, like anti… looked exactly like himself.

"hey," jack murmured, sitting down tentatively across from the other two. henrik nodded, mouth hanging open slightly in shock.

"henrik, this is jack," chase said, twirling his hand around. they both bobbed their heads up and down, staring at each other.

"it is… nice to meet you?" henrik said uncertainly, and jack jolted at his german accent. holy shit, it was him. it was him. henrik stretched his hand across the table for jack to shake, and he took it. "henrik von schneeplestein, if you please."

"jack… mcloughlin," he said, forcing a smile. then he turned to chase. "chase, can i talk to you for a second?"

chase frowned. "uh, yeah, sure," he said, and jack stood and walked over to the other side of the room, grabbing chase's arm as he followed him.

"dude, what the fuck? we've left henrik alone over there!" chase hissed.

"chase, i - where did you find this guy? how do you know him?" jack asked.

chase yawned, scrubbing at his face. "met him at a bar, his wife has just kicked him out too. we bonded over it, apparently." he laughed. "we didn't recognize that we had the same face until later."

jack glanced over at the man, who was awkwardly scrolling through his phone at the table. his mind literally could not wrap around it.

"he's a practicing doctor," chase said, snapping him from his thoughts. "studying at the local university. is this guy… is this guy the doctor you told me about? the one you made to help aiden?"

"i think so," jack said. "this is - this is fucking weird." he turned to chase. "did you tell him?"

"what, that everything he knows is fake and he's not even real?" chase snorted, fixing the brim of his cap. "no, i didn't. i barely believe it myself, i'm still convinced this is a very elaborate prank. i'm only going along with this because it'll get a lot of views on my channel if we can make this funny enough."

jack rolled his eyes and began to go back to the table. "sure, whatever."

henrik smiled as they sat back down. "everything ok?" he asked, tapping his fingers on the table. as he looked at the two of them, jack noticed a few slight differences between himself and henrik and chase. henrik's hair was flatter with a small streak of grey, and his eyes were a much lighter blue. chase looked almost younger than jack, and there were a few freckles splattered across his face that jack was sure hadn't been there the last time he'd seen him. it was so surreal, knowing he had somehow brought them into existence. that if anti's theory was correct, they were pieces of his soul. the thought made him feel almost sick.

"yeah, it's fine," jack said. "do you guys, uh, wanna get food?"

"i would," henrik nodded. "then maybe we can talk about why you are my exact copy and chase did not think to tell me this."

this ceiling wasn't his. these walls weren't his. this room wasn't his.

anti blinked at the lights streaming through the windows for almost thirty seconds before he remembered.

shit. oh shit, oh shit, please say he hadn't done what he thought he had. he sat straight up, panic coursing through him, and - nope, this wasn't his bed. he was shirtless, and rhudy was laying beside him, asleep.

ok. ok. this was fine, anti reassured himself, fumbling for his clothes. this was fine. rhudy stirred slightly, making a small sound in his throat. anti felt sick.

because it wasn't fine. nothing was fine anymore. he fucking hated this, he hated it and he wasn't supposed to. he had been so happy last night - why hadn't this fixed him? why had he been having a good time until he kissed rhudy, why had he convinced himself this was what would help him? jesus fuck, anti was going to be sick. he was going to be sick.

he was going to have to kill him.

that was the only thought in his panic stricken brain. kill rhudy and get the fuck out of there, go back to jack, maybe kill him too if he still felt like it. anti frantically began getting dressed, looking for his knife in his hoodie pocket. it was still there, thankfully. he unfolded it grimly, tapping it against his hand as he breathed heavily, trying not to scream. bile rose in his throat as he looked down at the other man, thinking about slitting his throat.

he'd done it before. why couldn't he do it now, why was he suddenly scared? why had he formed an emotional attachment? he grabbed at his hair, his knife dangerously close to his face. this was fucking pathetic. he took several deep breaths, and lowered the knife to where rhudy was laying. right next to his throat.

why couldn't he do it? what the fuck was wrong with him?

he didn't have time to think about it, because rhudy's was awake and he was staring at anti, eyes wide, almost not daring to move.

"anti?" he said, shocked. "what are you -"

anti yelped and leaped off the bed, stumbling back into the wall as rhudy sat up, holding both hands up next to his head. "hey, hey!" he cried, and he looked terrified, and anti held up the knife in front of him, warning him not to move.

"d-d-don't -" anti stammered, but suddenly his voice wouldn't cooperate and neither would his body. he glitched wildly, yanking his hair and crying out through the pain ripping through him, almost collapsing from the agony that had come out of nowhere. after he'd collected himself, he managed to glance up, still holding onto his head. rhudy was just… looking. just looking. horrified. anti stared back, far too aware for how disgusting he looked, half formed and probably insane. this had been a mistake. this had always been a fucking mistake.

he glitched away and rhudy didn't move to stop him.

his face burned.

it wasn't just from the humiliation of what had just happened, either. it felt like an actual, genuine burn, like someone was dragging a lighter down his cheek. as he quickly darted down the streets, getting as far away from rhudy's place as possible, he swiped at his face with his sleeve, trying to figure out what it was. something wet - blood, he assumed, but his sleeve wasn't stained when he pulled away, and when he touched his face with his hand it came away clear, like water, like -

oh, oh. like tears. anti was crying.

he had never cried before. never. he gasped and scrubbed at his skin fiercely, ignoring the pain. why did it burn? jack had cried before, he never told him it burned so bad, oh, it hurt. he gritted his teeth and pushed through it. fuck, he couldn't go home in this state.

he decided to just go get food at the mcdonalds near the park. might as well. it was pretty crowded, which anti was fine with; no one would notice him in a crowd. no one, except… his mouth dropped open when he saw. surely not. surely not here.

chase, sitting at a table across the room, saw him first. he tapped jack's arm, and he turned around to see him, along with the other man who was next to him. three of them. last anti had checked, that was one too many. the other man wasn't the hero, wasn't the magician… he must have been the doctor, finally found. anti looked away from them, too overwhelmed with everything to even care.

once he'd ordered and calmed himself down, he casually wandered over to their table, slamming both hands down on the surface and grinning wickedly. "hey there, assholes," he said, delighting in how chase and the doctor jumped at his sudden movement. jack just sighed. anti tilted his head at the man next to chase. "doctor schneeplestein, i presume?"

"how do you -" the man started, and anti just laughed. he was fucking furious all of a sudden, and just this man's presence was making it worse. "who are you?"

anti pulled his signature move of turning his eyes black, smirking. "is it cliche to say your worst nightmare?"

"anti," jack interrupted, about to stand, but anti pushed him down again forcefully. that didn't stop him from trying, though, and he struggled against anti's hand. "stop this, man, please."

anti was about to say something else, probably a snappy comeback or something, when jack's brow furrowed and he looked concerned. "anti, what happened to your face?"

anti snorted. "what do you mean?"

jack shrugged anti off and stood, too close to anti's face. "man, there's a big - it looks like a long, thin, burn mark, anti, what did you do?"

"i didn't do anything!" he protested, but then jack held up his phone on the front camera and - oh. he did have a long, thin burn mark on his cheek, trailing down from his right eye. oh, shit.

anti took several steps back, not wanting to look. he glared at the three man, frantically trying to think of something else to say that would put him back in control.

"order 107!" called a woman behind the counter, and anti glanced at his receipt. that was him. as he went up to collect his order, jack scrambled over to talk to him.

"anti, anti," he said breathlessly. "fuck, are you alright? where did you, uh, go last night?"

anti laughed without humour. "you wouldn't believe me if i told you."

jack made a noise of resignation and shook his head. "ok, sure, be vague about it. listen, i'm… i'm going to talk more with chase and henrik, ok? i -"

"ooh, the doc has a first name?" anti said in a mocking tone. jack threw up his hands.

"jesus shit, anti, listen to me for once! they're going to be round at the house sometimes, and you're going to have to just deal with it, ok? i'm allowed to have other friends apart from you. and these guys… well, you know what the situation is with them. i just… i have to learn more about what i can do, i guess. and i want you to be with me." he tapped anti's shoulder gently, his expression softening. "you're my best friend, dude. you got that? i'm not going to replace you."

but he already was, and he didn't even realize it. anti was dying, and jack didn't know. would he care if anti told him?

jack bit his lip, obviously concerned about anti's lack of a response. "you wanna come sit with us?"

did he? not really. but there was a small part of him that thought, maybe… he should. he should go sit with them and apologize for being an asshole. he should talk with them and find out more about their lives. he should let jack slowly explain everything to them and become friends and tell jack how badly he was hurting and then he'd fix him. wouldn't he? he could just do that. anti was so close to just giving in and letting himself do that.

but once glance at the doctor and the father at the table, looking over at them with confused and worried expressions, was all that anti needed to confirm what he wanted to do.

"no, i don't." anti said firmly. and with that, he turned and left, taking his food and not once looking back.

true to jack's word, chase and henrik were round at the house several times in the next three days.

at this point, anti couldn't tell if anyone had told henrik about the whole being-created-by-jack thing, and he didn't care to find out. henrik and chase tried not to be pushy or in his way, which he was slightly grateful for, but just their presence in the house annoyed him. he ended up staying in his room all the time, watching stuff on netflix and hacking phone lines when he got bored. he could often hear talking through his door and would sometimes just sit and listen. it made his chest hurt to hear jack so happy when he was so fucking miserable.

one day he bumped into chase when he left his room to get some food from the kitchen.

"shit, sorry," chase said, holding up a hand apologetically. anti just glared at him until he backed off, grinning awkwardly. "uh, you alright, dude?"

anti was getting pretty sick of people asking if he was ok. "the fuck do you think?" he snarled, taking a step forward. chase flattened himself against the wall, hands in a pose of surrender.

"fuck, man, relax," he said, laughing nervously. "i'll get out of your way."

"you fucking better," anti spat, revelling in the fear in chase's eyes. "or i'll tear your goddamn throat out with my teeth."

chase nodded frantically. "ok, ok, cool, i got it," he babbled, eyes darting back and forth down the hall. anti laughed at how pathetic he looked. he knew he should back away and go back to his room. but suddenly, this just wasn't enough.

"you know, you fucking disgust me!" anti said cheerfully, and chase paled. "i honestly do not know why jack puts up with you. you're so… boring, you know?" he yawned exaggeratedly. "boring, and just plain depressing. you get me? you're genuinely such a misery to be around." he laughed, and chase made a terrified squeak that was like music to anti's ears.

he stepped back, giving chase the room to move even though he chose not to do so, still plastered against the wall. a grin cut through anti's face.

"you don't have many friends, do you, jinx hat?" anti said, still smiling. chase's hand touched his head self consciously. "i wouldn't imagine you did. not many people would miss someone so boring, would they?"

he bounced back to his room, leaving chase alone in the hallway.

"anti."

he sighed loudly upon hearing jack's voice, and didn't get up from his bed. "that's me."

he heard jack tap the door gently. "i, uh, have a surprise for you."

anti raised an eyebrow despite jack not being able to see. "yeah? and what's that?"

"come and see!" jack said, excitement in his voice. "i think you're definitely gonna like this."

anti entertained the idea of ignoring him and going back to sleep. but he was, admittedly, slightly curious, and he was all prepared to be angry if it was a terrible surprise. jack grinned when anti opened the door, clapping his hands together once. "yes! come on, come to my recording room."

"are jinx and the doc here?" he asked suspiciously as they walked across the hall.

"nope! and you know, they have names." jack pushed open his recording room door, gesturing towards his computer. "go and see!"

anti stepped in, glancing around, but he couldn't see anything out of place. the only unusual thing was that jack's computer was on and loaded up to a game. anti frowned and stepped closer, staring at the screen.

"yeah, so you got the new five night's game. so what?" anti said, turning round confusedly. jack grinned.

"you know how when i was sick and you recorded that one video for me?" he said, spreading out his hands. "well… here's a series of your very own! happy early birthday!"

anti couldn't breathe for a second.

"you're… you're letting me…" he swallowed, suddenly feeling very small. "you're gonna let me play it… as you?"

jack laughed and looked down at the floor, rubbing his neck. "yeah, i am," he said. "i've been planning it basically since i heard it was coming out. i figured it'd be fun for you."

anti's breath hitched as he tried to gather words. "i - i, um… thank you, holy shit." he blinked rapidly. "fuck, i… after i've been such an asshole?"

"you're not an asshole," jack said quietly. "i - i've been a dick too, ok? and i feel like this is a… well, a good start."

anti turned back to the computer and watched the loading screen glitch. it was weird to think that he wasn't the one causing it.

"it came out yesterday, but i could only get it now," he heard jack say. he came to stand beside anti, putting a hand on his shoulder. "what do you think?"

anti ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of how to respond. "i'd love to play it," he murmured. "fuck, thank you."

jack hesitated, then pulled him in for a hug. anti nearly burst into tears then and there, too scared to speak or move in case he did. he let jack hold him for a moment, then slowly wrapped his arms around his friend, resting his face against his shoulder.

"i'm sorry," jack whispered.

a pause.

"me too," anti whispered back.

the game took about two and a half hours to complete. it was strangely terrifying, knowing that people were going to see this, to see him. but he tried his best to keep it cool. at several point he almost had to stop from how much pain his body was in, but he was sure it was fine. he filmed four episodes in all, changing shirts between each one so it wouldn't seem like he'd played the whole game in one day; which, now he thought about it, wouldn't have been that weird for jack. once he'd finished, he considered watching it back to see if he'd made any obvious mistakes in his imitation of jack, but there wouldn't be much he could do to change it now, so he didn't really care that much. he decided to take the liberty of sending the videos to robin himself and then went out to see jack, feeling happier than he had in a long time.

jack was in the kitchen, making popcorn. anti stood at the door for a minute, listening to the popping sounds, before jack noticed him and broke out in a grin. "hey! how was it, did you finish?"

he nodded, suddenly almost shy, looking down at the chair legs. "i sent the videos to robin," he said. "and, uh… thanks again."

"no problem, dude, i'm glad you liked it." the microwave beeped and jack took the bowl out, yelping at how hot it was. "ouch, fucking burning bastard. do you wanna watch a movie or something?"

anti gave a small nod. "if you want. any ideas?"

jack moved past him into the living room, eating the popcorn dry. "well, this movie came out on netflix today. the siege of jadotville. it's irish."

anti snorted. "just the name alone is putting me to sleep."

"did i mention it's irish?"

"irish, smirish, it sounds crap!"

the two of them laughed, and anti felt warm again.

the movie was boring, as anti had predicted. he barely stayed awake long enough to get half an hour in before drifting off on the arm of the couch, jack gently playing with his hair. when he woke, it was late afternoon, jack was gone, and a blanket had been draped over him. he sighed warmly, not wanting to move.

"aid - anti? you up?"

he glanced up to see jack coming into the room, looking worried. anti pushed himself to his elbows, yawning. "i am. what's the problem?"

jack raised his arms behind his head, blowing all the air out his cheeks. anti immediately recognized something was wrong and sat up fully, throwing the blanket off him. "jay? what is it? come on, man, spit it out."

jack took a deep breath and folded his hands. "you know how you sent the videos to robin?"

a thick feeling of dread rose up in anti's chest. "yeah?" he said quietly, almost afraid to hear.

jack hesitated before continuing. "the, uh, files got corrupted," he mumbled. "glitches everywhere. it's… unusable, i think. i'm sorry."

neither one of them said anything for a long moment.

"post it anyway," anti said eventually.

jack sighed and sat down next to him on the couch. "dude, i can't. the facecam footage looks terrible, it's always staticy and glitchy, and you can't even be heard at some points -"

"then edit that out!" anti yelled, leaping to his feet. jack got up again right after. "edit that out and post it, it's fine, you let me film that, jack! i've waited years for you to let me appear on the channel!"

jack flinched back, shaking his head. "anti -"

"no!" he screamed, grabbing at his hair. "no, no, that's not fair, it's not my fault!"

"i thought you had your glitching under control?" jack said worriedly, holding out his hands to try and calm anti down.

"i did, i did, i have for years!" the sound of static got even louder, and anti could feel himself slowly losing control again. "it's your fault, it's your fucking fault, it's your fault that i'm dying!"

jack just watched helplessly as anti screamed, clawing at himself and glitching so wildly he couldn't stay together. "anti, i -"

"i've tried everything!" he wailed, his whole body searing with pain as he tried to piece himself back. "i tried drinking, i tried exercising, i tried burning myself, i tried - fuck, i even tried sleeping with my only other friend, nothing works and it's your bloody fault!"

"anti!" jack cried, alarmed. "i -"

someone knocked at the door.

anti whipped round, eyes blazing. "and who's that?"

"well, uh, i think it's chase and henrik - we - we were gonna go out for a bit - anti, wait -"

"oh, come in!" anti called, in a perfect imitation of jack's voice. "door's open!"

the door opened, and anti could hear the two other men chattering as they came inside. jack visibly swallowed. "anti," he said, very softly. "anti, stop."

"jack!" anti heard henrik call in that fucking german accent. "where are we going, i have -"

they stopped dead in the door when they saw what was going on. "is… is this a bad time?" henrik asked tentatively.

"oh no, you're just in time!" anti said, almost hysterically. he grinned, his body stabilizing for just a second. "just in time!"

another glitch ran through him, and he doubled over from the pain. chase and henrik turned to leave, but anti suddenly appeared in front of them, blocking their path. "oh, don't leave so soon!" he cried. "you'll miss all the fun!"

"anti, aiden, please stop!" jack sobbed, trying to grab anti's arm. he pushed him away, almost too forcefully, and jack slammed into the table behind him. "shit, stop it!"

but anti's attention was on chase now. chase, who was holding henrik's hand and backing towards the door, shaking. "w-why are you doing this?" chase stammered. "please, dude, we never meant to hurt you!"

anti laughed without mirth, his hand on his pocket. "a bit late for that, jinx!"

he made a sudden move, grabbing chase's neck in a burning rage and throwing him back into the wall. one of chase's legs shot to and kicked anti's knee, and he stumbled back, henrik attempting to help chase up so they could get out. anti straightened and lunged for henrik this time, wanting to kill him, to kill him, to -

and jack was yanking him back by his hood and trying to get him off -

and anti whirled round and lashed out -

and jack fell, and anti had a knife in his hands, when did he get a knife in his hands -

and jack was on the ground and anti had a knife pressed to his throat.

there was dead, dead silence.

"aiden?" jack said softly.

aiden could see the terror in his eyes.

then someone was pulling him off of him, shoving him to the floor. anti gasped, crying out as the contact sent shocks through his body. henrik, the doctor, standing in front of jack, holding - anti's knife was gone, slipped from his hands. henrik held it, looking so tired yet so fierce. in that moment, anti had to admit he was impressed by how unwavering he was.

"stop this." henrik said. he very deliberately closed the knife and tossed it behind him, where chase was slumped against the wall.

anti got the message and left.

three hours later he was on the ground in an alleyway with blood on his hands.

how many people he'd killed, he'd lost track of. so much blood on his hands. he stared at them, shaking so badly it hurt, the uneven ground wet from the earlier rain. he hugged himself, his vision blurring, tasting blood in his mouth.

he could never go home now. never. not after what he'd done, not after the way they'd looked at him.

and with that sudden stabbing realization, the tears that were threatening on the ends of anti's lashes finally fell. and unlike last time, he couldn't do anything to stop them. a great sob tore from his throat and he almost screamed as the water burned his cheeks, his shoulders shaking with pain and the force of his crying. his chest tightened and he could barely breathe. he curled into himself as he sobbed, almost hyperventilating, like a panic attack he couldn't come down from. he'd never felt this kind of distress before - usually his negative feelings manifested in the form of anger, but now it was everything. sadness, rage, fear, grief, all combined into one meltdown.

he buried his face in his knees and didn't move for several hours. when he finally did, his face stung in the places his tears had rolled down. all the nearby streetlamps had gone out and he was left in darkness. as usual.

he was standing just outside the doors to the corner shop, staring into the distance with his hands in his pockets.

jack almost turned and left. almost. but he had to face this eventually, even if his neck still ached with bruises and stung from the small cut anti had given him. he would have to talk to him at some point.

anti turned as he got closer. he must have known jack was there. his expression was completely blank, though jack couldn't help but blach at anti's face as he grew nearer.

"what happened to your face?" were the first words out of his mouth as he got right next to anti. his face was red and blotchy, like he'd been crying, and there were reddish looking scars down his face liked he'd been burned. anti scowled, glancing away and not answering.

they stood in silence for a little while, both wondering what to say. then jack spoke again. "this is it, isn't it." he let out a shuddering breath. "for us."

"i don't know," anti said flatly. "i would believe so."

jack blinked rapidly, swallowing hard and clenching his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palm. "ok."

another pause. the wind blew through their hair, and jack noted how different he and anti really did look, in the end. maybe they had always been like this and jack had never noticed.

"you're not going to post the videos i made." anti said. "you're going to film something entirely different and try to forget i ever existed."

"no," jack said, even though that was almost entirely true.

"i'm not stupid, jack." anti said. "and i hope you know i won't make it easy for you."

jack's breath hitched, and a tear fell from his eye. "i know. you wouldn't be aiden mcloughlin if you did."

"you're not understanding me," anti said, turning his head away slightly. "not that you ever have."

jack closed his eyes. "i wish i could have. i'm sorry."

"no you're not."

"i am, of course i am. i love you."

he opened his eyes to see that anti had vanished.

he said it anyway.

"happy birthday."

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #antisepticeye #chase brody #henrik von schneeplestein #arc zero: cruthú #rhudy o'donnell

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