#exspiritment

[ohfiendangelical]

@exspiritment SAID:   “i can’t keep running.”   ☆   MEME: dark & thrilling prompts   ☆   send FANMAIL!

          “Dramatic. Mysterious,”          Zero says, half-smiling with his chin in his hand. He’s observing her in a strange way, the faintly predatory stare of a calm-yet-curious cat — no intention of attacking, but too intent on his subject, too piercing.          “What is it, exactly, that you’re running from?” 

The most obvious answer, of course, would be her captors — faceless, shadowy strangers in lab coats — but he doubts she would lose her will to escape that. He doesn’t know much about it, but he always assumed torture was central to the entire exercise. Not something she’d likely give up and concede to. However, he can’t imagine anything else that she would want to run from, and quite frankly, he finds it odd that she would admit to running from anything at all, much less saying that she’s lost her will to continue to do so.

Unless perhaps this is a heartfelt display of bravery — ceasing to run so that she may face something. What that is, though, and why she’s telling him, continues to escape him.

[tahitiwoke]

                                             I RUN THE RED LIGHT.

[geniuscorp-a]

@exspiritment

" you see dead people? like ghosts, ghosts? fuck! that's terrifying! " he snorts and makes a face like yeesh, glad it's you and not me girl! (here's the thing to know: he kickstarted his little campaign of terror by murdering an entire ballroom full of political stakeholders so. y'know. the idea of all those sorry motherfuckers showing up on his doorstep is straight up not his idea of a good time. )

[utilgitt]

@exspiritment said, they all have something against me.

"sweetie."

sorting laundry out of a plastic bag, penny is grateful for the opportunity to stay too busy to offer real advice. she wonders sometimes if spirit looks at her and sees something horrible in the future the way she sometimes looks at spirit and sees something beautiful in the past.

"they have something against everyone."

[withbeastsarc]

@exspiritment​ liked x.

          “  no.  i’m nothing like my son.  “ 

[rekant-2]

@exspiritment

'I just need something to keep me awake.'

'In bulk.'

[jupiter3-moved-2]

@exspiritment​

sometimes he regrets keeping the old apartment. mostly because she still has the address. “what are you doing here?”

[cartelheir]

one liner call   ━   @exspiritment​​

❝    what the hell happened to  don’t get high on your own supply,   huh?    ❞

[childactress]

@exspiritment   ...   ❝  family  therapy,  family  therapy,  family  therapy!  ❞

❝  okay,  let’s,  let’s,  let’s  –  ❞    give her a second.  there’s half a liquor store sitting in her gut and if she forces herself to think any harder it might all come hurling up at once.  mara perches on the edge of her coffee table in her best impression of a therapist:  crossed legs,  invisible notepad in her lap.  she sweeps her hair behind her ears,  neat and professional and sloppy fucking drunk.    ❝  what’s your  –  no,  no,  who’s your least favorite person?  ever?  ❞

[swallowpit]

@exspiritment

"she's lost." next to her, maggie bites off a red vine and says she's not lost. she's here to see mac which sloan obviously answers with a look. there is no way this woman, dirty shoes and all, is here to see a top executive producer for one of the most popular news show's on television - not a chance. so, obviously, sloan is going to prove the point: getting up from her desk, she darts out, through the glass doors and into the bullpen and towards the woman. the girl. gotta be, right? she looks like she's twelve. bluntly, because sloan doesn't know how to be anything else: "-- are you lost?"

[withbeasts]

@exspiritment liked x;

there is a purple bruise swelling at the corner of his jaw, stinging to the touch. the pan handle gripped in his fingers in a good distraction. " you know as well as i do, " he says, feeling her gaze strain on his back, " old habits are hard to kill. "

[feralego]

@exspiritment said ❛   i don’t want to let go. i’m not ready to say goodbye yet.  ❜

When Marcus left, he hadn't said goodbye. Giving notice--getting to see his friends and family one final time--had been too risky a luxury with the threats of Daniel Romano's vengeance breathing down his neck, ever present.

He doesn't even take anything from his apartment, leaving everything behind for someone else to deal with.

Through channels he was smart enough to keep hidden from Daniel and Spirit both, he gets a new life; a new chance. But he has to leave so much of himself behind to do so, burying the dreams he'd had for his future. Marcus doesn't sing anymore, and he doesn't play piano; he doesn't have the name he'd chosen for himself; he doesn't have his father to fall back on for advice and support and home cooking; he doesn't get to help Monique hide and shelter mutants, or to run the bar with; he doesn't have Julie to brighten his day; he doesn't have Spirit, though his love for her remains.

And for a few years, he thinks it will aways be there: that in some way, he'll carry that piece of their history with him until they put him in the ground. That even then, maybe his ghost will find her.

But things change.

Years go by, and Marcus--who is no longer Marcus--falls into his new life and meets new people.

He gets involved with a cute, funny bouncer at the club where he tends bar, thousands of miles from New York. They fall in love and life, for all its surprises, gives them a child; gives them Rosalina. And Marcus stops thinking so much about the past and about what ifs and Spirit Harris. He starts looking forward again, finally piecing together new dreams instead of picking at the splinters of the old.

He moves on and he forgets, because the universe cannot stand to be kind to him for too long, and he loses his partner and his job, and he has to focus on Rosalina at all hours of the day, or he will fall apart.

Until, one day, he's forced to remember. Until he sees Spirit standing on the opposite street corner, staring him down. Until he's rooted in place, frozen by the absurdity of seeing her again, because he and his connections had done everything in their power to erase his tracks.

There is a cold, neglected, bitter part of himself that does not want to hear her out when she approaches him. Hadn't she made her choice? He'd warned her and tried his damnedest to lead her away from Daniel; he'd stayed with her, putting his own safety aside until he finally couldn't justify it any longer; he'd waited, hopeless, until Daniel had laid hands on him and delivered the ultimatum.

But he cannot leave his daughter on the playground, and he cannot find his voice to call her back to him, and he cannot get his jellylike legs to move.

Spirit looks terrible, and it breaks his heart a little, but not in the way it used to. Not how it did when he'd seen the bruises on her all those years ago. It's a very surface level reaction.

She opens her mouth and says her piece, reaching out a hand to take his. But Marcus, who is no longer Marcus in name or dreams or desires, gives her hand a half-hearted squeeze and pulls himself free. Steps back once, twice.

"We already did."

[utilgitt]

@exspiritment

"did you steal this? be honest."

[withbeastsarc]

@exspiritment​.

            “  this quiz is wrong,  i think.  violence is my love language.  “

[idnull]

( @exspiritment​ | ♡ )

“it’s not what it looks like!”

what does it look like? john doe, face beat to hell and clothes covered in old blood, with a death-grip on a paw patrol backpack. jesus, did he kill a kid?

[jupiter3-moved]

@exspiritment

he expected his home to be empty.

“—you are her?”