#just needed to get this out of my system bc the rage was consuming me from the inside | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

red-hood-vigilante · 4 years

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more hbo spn rambles, thoughts, drabbles etc. long long post.

part 1 here

there’s some things i’ve omitted here bc others have already posted about those things, certain headcanons and characterizations and stuff. those posts are in my likes somewhere (and i’ll reblog them someday), and there’s some posts i’ve read but not liked, which i now can only vaguely remember, which is why some ideas/thoughts are similar

ALSO most of these follow the model i talked about in part one: how s1-5 will stay more or less how they are but s6-10 is changed (some things are cut out entirely, some things are tweaked and some characters + arcs are more fleshed out. more focus on sam’s trauma and post-cage adaptation to the real world as well as dean letting his rage and control issues consume him and how he’d recover and redeem himself)

as i typed these paragraphs, i realized i really have 10 seasons mapped out and ready to go. hbo hire me!!

alright go:

sam and dean get wearier as the show progresses (second half), and eventually they stop putting so much care and thought in the people they save. like...hm how do i say this, like as long as a victim/victims are saved, they don’t care about how that happens or how those people suffer potential consequences, like if the victims lose a limb or have their homes burned down because of the monster, then sam and dean don’t really care. they saved your life, now they’ll leave you with your life in potential shambles and not care because all that matters is that they saved your life, not how it is afterwards. they still care about saving that one person, but eventually it pales a little in comparison to a war between heaven and hell, being the vessels etc. ---> saving people becomes less about making sure they’re actually alright and healing from horrific events and more about just making sure they have a pulse before they move on

when angels lose their wings they are either burned off in the actual fall or ripped off of them in their vessels, which leaves pretty nasty scars on the vessel

ed and harry are so young and bright eyed about the whole hunting thing; sam and dean as kids, idolizing it, finding it exciting and intriguing when they shouldn’t. sam and dean try to get them out of the business before they too are too traumatized and desensitized to do anything but hunt. neither sam or dean will say it but they are jealous of ed and harry and their freedom to leave, and hate them for choosing this voluntarily instead of being dragged into it by tragedy

hbo spn is a slow burn. there’s a lot more shots of sam and dean in silence just sitting together after a hunt, exhausted and too tired to move yet. they’re covered in blood and guts on the side of the road after killing or covered with dirt in a graveyard after burning bones, sitting next to the fire, just watching it. the times they park the car and watch the stars? we get to see it.

dean wears rings and the amulet all the time in the beginning, for the first five seasons. the rings vary; first they’re some of john’s old ones and stuff he finds in thrift stores. then later on he begins wearing rings from people they’ve saved/haven’t saved as a keepsakes etc. when he begins his descent to the holy murderer in s6-10 he wears less and less rings. they don’t matter anymore -> symbolically shedding who he was and what mattered to him

the only accessories sam has is a rosary/cross around his neck. he has jess’ engagement ring in his pocket/wallet. after the cage he vaguely remembers why the ring was there and who jessica was (more on this further down)

the four horsemen are manifestations of different aspects of human nature at its most grotesque and strongest, can’t be killed as long as humans live. war is conflict, famine is desire, pestilence is physical and mental illnesses.

(the seven sins are like the horsemen, tulpas of human nature instead of demons)

death isn’t a concentration of an existing aspect of humans as much as it is the end of life, the antithesis of life. death the oldest of the horsemen and has existed since the beginning of any life, organism, cell and atom. the opposite of life and light, the other half of god (as i’m typing this i’m confused as to why amara was the opposite of god instead of death). death isn’t evil or good, remains 100% objective. doesn’t care for sam or dean at all, but has a begrudging respect for their stubbornness and entertainment they provide due to their flat out refusal to do as they’re told by celestial bodies when anyone else would crumble

by including death i feel like it very naturally begs questions of who decides when someone dies, when someone lives, why would death follow these guides instead of reaping whomever whenever, what happens if a life isn’t reaped at the right time etc. the reader in me adore the idea of death having a library with books and records of everyone who has ever lived and died and how they died - but then, who writes these books and why? do they decide, and if in that case, how? these questions are above my paygrade but you know what i mean? like there has to be some sort of system right, god created everything, death executes to maintain order, some third party deity writes the laws and the books. the three branches of government. ok but it’s hbo so again, i think we shouldn’t dive this deep into things, like as much as these topics intrigue me i don’t want to stray too much from the dirt road trip aesthetic

shapeshifters are extremely rare because they don’t require any kind of human blood or organs/sacrifice to live

i want more exploration of how magic is like science, like it just needs the right ingredients and right conditions. sam thinks of magic as an obscure branch of science; it just requires research and knowledge and clear intentions because science can be controlled and do a lot of good when used responsibly. dean doesn’t like it. he doesn’t trust the unpredictable elements and he’s seen enough to know it never goes well. magic is a force that can’t be controlled by anyone.

sam and dean have full on fist fights regularly. to practice and keeping each other sharp, but also because they’re siblings. they’re feral, insane and unhinged with each other and they get on each other’s nerves A LOT. it’s petty and childish and sometimes it can get a lil ugly but it becomes their way of family therapy. after a fight the next scene cuts to sam and dean with ruffled clothes, nosebleeds and swollen lips at a diner eating silently after beating each other up. either they sit in silence because they’re tired or both are harping on the other’s openings and weaknesses

sometimes they’ll fight a little dirty but they do so in different ways; dean will pull the old ‘look!’ and point to something and then tackle sam when he turns to look while sam will just cry out in fake pain which makes dean stop dead in his tracks before sam headbutts him or kicks him in the groin

we, the audience get used to these fights, they’re sometimes funny and for comic relief, sometimes for narrative purposes (like tricking a monster they’re fighting each other when they’re really not) BUT. then comes the times when sam and dean are actually fighting without holding back and we see how much they are capable of hurting each other or how heartbreaking and difficult it can be to watch when of them are incapable of fighting back/doesn’t defend himself -> swan song when dean doesn’t fight back against possessed sam, or when dean beats soulless sam unconscious

sam and dean also just verbally bully each other constantly but they do have their odd ways of expressing affection and care. they get the other person their fave snack whenever they go grocery shopping without being asked to and are the only other one they truly trust to have their back in hunts. have a cup of coffee ready before the other asks for one. brothers and each other’s best friend. nightmare duo but in a sweet way. the cooperation of ‘the usual suspects’ when they’re in different interrogation rooms but still has the cover story down to a t. code words and code names and cover stories, they know it all

when sam and dean fight together against a common enemy they’re a damn nightmare - because they know each others weaknesses and habits, they cover each other perfectly and in complete silence. they’ve been at it together since they were kids and read each other’s nonverbal cues like a picture book

to build off of what i said in part 1; the winchesters are pretty hated in the hunter’s community. even the people sam and dean frequently work with (bobby, ellen, jo, ash, rufus, bela, kevin, charlie, castiel etc) roasts them all the time and don’t hesitate with calling them out on their self-pitying crap when it get’s too much (spn was just objectively better when characters weren’t afraid of dragging sam and dean through the mud for being selfish and stupid) and this WILL persist in hbo spn. the only reason people continue working with sam and dean is because they know deep down a lot of the things that happens aren’t sam and dean’s fault - but they still blame them for it. doesn’t make it easier how sam or dean sometimes start crap on purpose to save the other

the winchesters are terrifying and people for sure tell stories about them, but not like ‘they’re heroes’, more like ‘they’re insane and dangerous. stay the fuck away from them’. some stories are true, like how they’ve worked with demons, but some are just game of telephone. (dean has apparently a ghost he is frequently possessed by while sam is actually a mutant vampire). hunters hate and are scared of the winchesters. sam and dean are never invited to hunter stuff (burials, memorials etc) but crash them nonetheless even though the hunters do NOT want them there.

you know what drives me insane when i think about it? how some characters in spn already are their hbo spn counterparts; john. mary. adam. maybe kevin?

other things that already are their hbo spn counterparts: dean throwing away the amulet right in front of sam. eyes burning when angels are seen. how ghosts are just tragedies, stuck in a loop they can’t leave. how a lot of the monsters they meet are just victims or their circumstances or the first victim of a curse. the impala being sam and dean’s home. dean not knowing how to comfort sam when he’s upset other than trying to do things for sam that usually brings dean comfort (driving the impala, listening to rock music etc). the roadhouse. heaven being an eternal version of the memories that made you the happiest even though it’s not real. sam wanting independence and freedom but never fully having it. dean fearing being alone more than anything else and that’s where he always ends up. sam has an eating disorder after the demon blood and dean has an alcohol problem he refuses to see as a problem. dean saying “i’d do it again” without an ounce of regret and pouring himself a drink when sam tells him it was fucked up to lie to him about gadreel

the demon/angel hybrid: THIS could be sooo interesting to explore. an angel and demon hybrid are you kidding me?? not to toot my own horn too much but i’m so clever. i should write this story myself. SO. does this creature have parents who fucked in their vessels or was this an experiment by god (yes i love the ‘mad scientist’ idea, that really should’ve been played up way more) or did a pre-existing creature (human or otherwise) drink demon blood and angel grace at the same time so that it created itself? so much potential for some really intriguing storytelling and character exploration - not only the creature itself and what they would be like, but also for the people around; sam, dean, castiel, jack etc. how would they react to this thing that is the very definition of defying heaven and hell and all the natural laws? does it exist before the show starts or will we see its birth?

the powers of the demon/angel hybrid would be tricky; a mix of holy and defiant, grotesque and beautiful. unconsciously forces people to tell the truth when talking to them. poisons whatever they touch. eyes of a demon, wings of an angel. can smite but skin will burn when touching iron. can do deals but will require a sacrifice in return, not a soul, usually a body part taken then and there (the hybrid eats it. it favours eyeballs and the liver - angels like raw meat). lights always flicker. makes things explode when angry (esp people and cars). can manipulate feelings, thoughts and memories. can travel to both heaven and hell, not welcome in either places. + standard stuff like telekinesis, teleportation, mind reading, super strength etc.

sam and dean’s wardrobe are pretty much the same; whatever’s cheap and not covered in blood. however, they do have stylistic differences. sam thinks graphic tees are funny, dean uses whatever’s black combined with john’s leather jacket. their wardrobe melds as they stop thinking of themselves as individuals and more of “me and my brother,”. their clothes are tattered and torn to shreds all the time. hand me downs, hand me ups. when they stray off their “path” and do things that are the crux of a storyline/character arc, this would reflect in their clothes. when sam is with ruby and becomes more and more “evil” he wears more and more red, a colour he has stated in the past he doesn’t really like. when dean is dead, sam starts to wear his rings and john’s and dean’s leather jacket. when dean decides he’s going to say yes to michael he dresses in white, when sam is dead dean takes off every piece of jewelry except the amulet. he holds it clenched in his fists when he’s whispering what comes close to a prayer

logically the amulet should have a backstory but you know what? i love that it’s hinted to be just a piece of cheap jewelry sam found in a thrift store he decided to give to dean. but narratively it should be explained so... idk. what could be logical solution as to why it would react to GOD himself? maybe god wore it once cuz he thought it was neat but he sold it for three dollars because he wanted coffee and then sam found it a week later

i would prefer it if god didn’t show up at all (absent father number one) but if he DID he’s not all powerful just a true neutral (like death, 100% objective) who created a thing that just took a life of its own, much like a parent and a child - the parent helps the child but can’t control it. the times he did intervene or tried to do something it didn’t really have any real long lasting effect so he gave up on trying a while ago.

@spneveryseason talked about this, how the storyline of sam being possessed by gadreel would be horrifying if we saw everything from sam’s perspective instead of dean’s (her fic is wonderful). in the ‘dean slowly descends into a righteous murderer to become holy’ idea i have this tracks so damn well because again, if dean believes something is right, it is right, no questions about it. everyone around him is like “that’s really fucked up and you should make amends” but dean doesn’t see any reasons for why - sam is alive isn’t he? and seeing it from sam’s pov would really underline how horrifying, dehumanizing and belittling that experience was

john and mary are adam and eve. sam and dean are cain and abel are michael and lucifer. time is a flat circle. history never stops repeating itself.

sam is the villain of s4. he is manipulated and key information is withheld from him but in the end... would it made a difference? it crossed his mind, that he could be tricked because ruby is a demon after all, but maybe he likes the power, the feeling of freedom, that he wasn’t just the baby, the one who always needs permission to do things. if he has to drain possessed people to get that power... so be it. and it’s for a good purpose, until it isn’t. he’s hungry for more, to be feared and respected. he’s enticed by lucifer’s sweet words, the potential of all that power and the idea of ruling two out of three realms. dean manages to pull him back from the brink because sam decides he doesn’t want to be what john thought he was and fail dean and himself like that.

dean is the villain in s9. he is controlling, the mark of cain without the mark. what he says goes - it’s not a democracy, it’s a dictatorship. he doesn’t see how much pain, doubt and fear he causes the people around him. if some victims or civilians die on his watch that doesn’t matter - just some collateral damage. sam can’t make dean listen to him because dean is the older one, the one who’s always called the shots. dean is the angelic one, heaven’s chosen warrior, he is untouchable and unkillable. he’s is an excellent killer, filling the void with blood and rage which is better than the crippling fear of loneliness carved into his bones. 'i butcher for love, to protect,’ he tells himself. ‘why shouldn’t i exterminate, regardless of the cost? i’ve followed the rules, i’ve always sacrificed. now i call the shots. it’s my right.’

sam’s hell trauma is never magically removed. he’s stuck with the memories and the nightmares and the occasional hallucinations. castiel can’t do anything but offers to wipe his memory completely, but sam says no, he is still doing penance.

after dean comes back from hell he starts calling himself old man and jokes a lot about he’s 40 years older now (after he’s more comfortable about speaking about hell)

when sam comes back he feels ancient (he’s over 900 years old at least but he lost count), weary, tired and so so so out of place in this world. he’s forgotten how to put gas in a car, how to drive, how to use a credit card, all the song lyrics he and dean used to yell together, the faces of people he knew before he fell, the softness of a bed, the schools he went to, most of the hunts he and dean, how john died, who mary is, the initials carved into the impala, the taste of food that isn’t raw meat. it’s so much he’s forgotten that he has to relearn. he prefers figuring things out with castiel instead of dean because castiel doesn’t silently resent him for everything he’s forgotten

sam doesn’t laugh anymore. despite dean’s many and castiel’s few awkward attempts, it’s more like quick smile and a quiet “hmm”. on some days he recoils when he sees blood and guts, on other days he’s so apathetic it’s unnerving

sam sympathizes with the brought back mary and castiel more than ever. dean tries to get sam to remember things he’s forgotten from his childhood but sam can’t connect with it anymore. he stopped being that sam a long time ago. dean doesn’t know what else to do than try to force this connection to be revitalized and he fails. sam isn’t that person anymore and this wedge in their relationship becomes a central factor in dean’s s6-10 desperation and isolation. sam is here and safe but it’s not really sam, not the sam dean grew up with

while sam has forgotten how to make coffee, he now knows everything about angels, effective torture tricks, a bunch of lore + biblical history, how to navigate hell, the most powerful and influential demons, rare and powerful spells as well as perfect enochian (he will speak enochian without realizing and it feels more natural than english). lucifer and michael were surprisingly talkative (raging about the unfairness) when taking their anger and hatred out on sam and adam and each other. sam had access to all of lucifer’s memories and knowledge for the time he was the one in control. walking library and encyclopedia of biblical lore.

he still has some muscle memory from hunting and sparring, but sam is ghostly thin and very rusty. even though he’s an expert on lore, he’s not fit to go on hunts anymore and he knows it.

sam remembers adam and swears he’ll try to get him out, but he can’t. just thinking about the cage makes him vomit. he can’t talk about it, much less go near it. after a while sam thinks it might be better to let adam stay down there than let him come back up and feel this crushing emptiness and loss of direction

sam’s trials take place in s9 instead of 8; coinciding with dean’s villain arc. for sam the trials are a chance to redeem himself again, this time for good by closing hellgates forever. they’re scrubbing him clean of the demon blood and his sins and they give him a sense of purpose again now that he can’t join hunts anymore. it doesn’t matter if he dies because of it. it would be nice with a permanent and peaceful death that did something good. dean is taken aback by sam’s devotion to repent for something that happened years ago and for something sam has already paid for a thousand times over. dean realizes how messed up he himself has become and how he’s helped put sam here, on the cusp of self sacrifice again because of sickening guilt and self hatred. dean begs sam to not complete the trials at the cost of his own life and swears he’ll better himself, be a friend and a brother, not a jailer, dictator or a murderer. ‘if you won’t give yourself or life another chance, please give me one.’ ---> s10 pacifist dean learning to let go of the control, the violent tendencies and the rage

oh wait what if gadreel still possessed sam after the trials to heal him but sam is the one who invites the angel in? he’ll keep his promise to dean about staying alive, as well as heal from the inside and have breaks from the world when he doesn’t want to be present, like he and gadreel will alternate being the one in control. he keeps it a secret from dean and helps gadreel imitate him so dean won’t notice. it’s not so bad, being possessed by this angel - sam can say no anytime and gadreel is a nice guy. since they alternate on who’s present they can access each other’s memories, which is terrifying and embarrassing at first, but since gadreel and sam have been tricked and used by lucifer and been punished for it for far too long, they understand each other. now another creature knows their trauma and terrors without the need for verbal explanation. also having an angel residing in his body makes sam feel like he can hunt properly again because gadreel can heal him and take over in situations sam’s overpowered. this could show how messed up sam has come to view himself and his body.

dean is conflicted when he finds out; sam lied but gadreel does help sam heal, sam’s traumatized and his self-worth is fucked up and dean has contributed to that. dean convinces sam to push gadreel out, that sam is still valuable, loved and a good person who shouldn’t be in a place where he views his body and mind like a property to be occupied. sam’s faith begins to come back bit by bit, not in god, but in himself, his brother, in the good things in life. they build their little family; sam, dean, castiel, the hybrids, whomever of their allies that are alive at this point.

castiel can heal sam and dean’s wounds but they are never completely gone; they leave scars and phantom pains. the brothers have SO many scars over the years. dean flaunts them to impress people because he likes the questions and the fearful admiration, the attention and the nods of approval. sam hides them.

when dean is in a bad mood or needs to get his mind off of things, sam just drops something like ‘i don’t get the deal with led zeppelin. one of the most overrated bands of all time’ and dean will go OFF every single time about the entire led zeppelin history, their discography and how they’ve shaped rock music. this will go on for hours and sam will zone out after 1 minute. but dean rants nonsensically the entire drive and it does get him to think about something else for a little bit. they stop at a motel and dean is STILL ranting while brushing his teeth. stops when going to sleep but without fail picks up where he left off the morning after and is so into it he doesn’t notice sam not paying attention at all. we could see this once in s1 when they’re searching for john, another in s3 when dean is anxious about his deal coming to an end and then again in a later season, when sam doesn’t remember to ask/doesn’t have the patience or mental capability, so they’ll sit there in tense silence, showing how much they’ve changed.

---> i can see this SO clearly in my head, how they’ll get in the car and we, the audience, will recognize the camera angle, the same lines and dean’s grumpy mood, and we’ll anticipate what comes next. but sam isn’t that kid anymore and he’s not peeking at dean to gauge what his mood is and how much of a shit eating grin he should wear when being an annoying little brother to cheer dean up. now he’s looking out the window, leaned back, they’re not looking at each other. this shot is a minute or two long, uninterrupted. dean turns on music but neither are singing along or doing anything to lighten the mood.

s1-5: sam gets hooked on demon blood, dean has an alcohol problem. when sam goes through withdrawals, dean decides to quit drinking and joins him because he wants to be supportive, and he realizes that when he drinks two beers for breakfast there’s a problem

s6-10: sam takes painkillers, anti depressants and anti psyhosis meds to numb himself from the phantom pains and reduce post-cage effects. dean started drinking again after sam jumped and still does, but started smoking in addition because he still drives a lot and doesn’t want to die in something as pathetic as a car crash.

there a scene in an episode in the first half of s8, when sam has decided to stay with dean instead of amelia, and dean has rejected benny in favor of sam, and then the brothers sit in a couch watching tv while drinking beer and neither of them look particularly happy about it - that’s how their relationship is a lot of the time. they know they’re fucked up and neither of them will ever be truly happy when the other’s around, but they owe each other so much and they don’t have to explain themselves to each other the way they do to others. they know each other so well, each other’s traumas and the things they’ve done, it feels fake and exhausting to try to be something other than the veteran hunters they are. misery loves company; they are miserable together but would be far more miserable apart and living a normal life. they do love each other, but neither of them are particularly happy as the show progresses. family is hell and so is the lack of it.

OK OK i mentioned it in part one, how i had my own very specific idea about how jack should come to be and here it is. long winded but (might just write a damn fic):

after lucifer was cast back into the cage, he is stronger than he has been in a long time (being in his true vessel helped him stretched muscles he forgot he had. and fresh air.) sam is pulled out of the cage and it leaves a rift in the magic and chains - the binding is weaker and lucifer must act fast to get out before it heals. the cage is still strong enough to hold two archangels, so lucifer has to become weaker somehow to slip out through the cracks. he can’t get out of the cage, but souls can come in. demons bring themselves and human souls as tools for lucifer to use. there’s not much he can do here - consuming them, eating them, touching them, dissecting them doesn’t give him what he wants

eventually lucifer realizes he must do like azazel and create something new of two halves, like when he created demons. he begins melding his archangel grace with a human soul. he tries with demons, but his archangel grace automatically purifies them and leaves them too weak. he must try with a human soul who is good. he finds the soul of kelly kline, who sold her soul to save a loved one. with her, the merging, works.

he has another self, a twin, a son, who’s half human and half archangel. half lucifer. the old lucifer will die but that’s ok, his desires, presence and self will live on in his new creation. the new lucifer barely makes it out of the cage, only able to due to its human side. on earth it creates a body for itself and takes shape, no longer a form of pure power and energy akin to the sun itself but now a person, reminiscent of kelly kline on earth and lucifer in heaven. they name themselves jack. jack searches for familiarity and finds it in sam, their old self’s perfect tool and another hybrid. jack finds a mentor in castiel, a younger brother and fellow angel with human elements. they do not find anything in dean, the key to his former self’s doom.

jack’s powers: their powers are like and unlike the angels because he is half archangel. jack has wings but sometimes they don’t work, or they’ll end up somewhere else entirely. their body is their own, not a vessel, so jack can’t possess people. doesn’t talk but people “know” what they’re saying or want because jack emits their emotions and thoughts to people they’re talking to like a radio tower. jack can also have this empathic connection and communication with animals. his mood affects the weather. immortal. reads minds. can remove a soul from a body and send it to heaven/hell by touching it, with practice they don’t need to touch a body.

other stuff about jack: the human/archangel nature means jack only need sleep and food once a week or so. eats only nougat and raw meat. because jack is a kid they nap a lot. levitates when sleeping. never blinks, stares intensely at everything. their eye colour changes based on their mood. eyes glow in the dark. normal humans who look at jack for too long experience memory loss, fainting spells or migraines and eye contact for more than 10 seconds give vivid hallucinations of their worst nightmares. always barefoot, often floats like 10 cm off the ground because they find it more enjoyable than walking. wears the wildest clothes they can find, nothing matches and nothing is weather appropriate

i have a very specific image of jack in my mind; they look like delirium from the sandman comics with the hair that looks like it’s underwater and the fishes floating around their head, here and here are examples. in live action this would look not good or maybe even ridiculous for sure but in animation... endless potential for angels and monsters to have super interesting designs sigh

castiel’s arc should end with him going from blind soldier, to the unwilling ruler of heaven, finding a place on earth with sam and dean, becoming closer with humanity and eventually a father of three (the hybrids).

#hbo spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #iben spoke #ok i'm tired of looking at this now #i just needed to get these thoughts out of my head to get some peace and quiet #more character centric than part 1 #and it turned into such a long post.... jesus #i should make a separate post for post cage sam headcanons #ana if you see this i'm so sorry to drag you into this mess but i wanted to give credit where credit is due

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titaniasfics · 3 years

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if your prompts are still open, for wanda and vision: "my love for you is set in stone" (bc tell me that 'Heart of Stone' from SIX isn't the perfect song to encapsulate the devastation that was the finale of WandaVision?! gahhh I just want Wanda, Vision and the kids to be together and happy!)

In which Vision needs to defeat Wanda before he can save her.

Inspired by a mashup of two prompts:

1) One shot of Vision and Wanda making up after a fight. Would love to see your take on it.

2) If your prompts are still open, for Wanda and Vision: "my love for you is set in stone" (bc tell me that 'Heart of Stone' from SIX isn't the perfect song to encapsulate the devastation that was the finale of WandaVision?! gahhh I just want Wanda, Vision and the kids to be together and happy!)

Bonkers drabble speculation on how Dr. Strange and the Multiverse of Madness movie might end. I make a ton of assumptions on this so please be aware that this all made up. Like, more made up than usual. Leans heavily into comic book lore, especially the Giant-Size Avengers Comic Book, Issue #4.

Oh, and I’m a noob when it comes to fight scenes, so I’ve contrived every way to avoid writing one.

Thanks, anons! The song “Heart of Stone” is now on my WandaVision playlist.

Heart of Stone

Vision’s vibranium arc reactor, which Dr. Cho installed to replace the Mind Stone and the flimsy solar absorption unit courtesy of SWORD, strains against Wanda’s sustained energy blast. Her beautiful blue eyes which normally turn a color of magma when she invokes her power, are now pitch black from Dormammu’s possession. Under his influence, she is doing her best to fulfill his diabolical directive.

Kill The Vision.

Even after Dr. Strange’s attempts to weaken her, she is as incandescent as the black energy that pulses at the center of the Dark Dimension. The Supreme Sorcerer tried to warn Vision when he first appeared in this hellish dimension of evil in search of Wanda.

She won’t recognize you. She will kill you and when she returns to herself and realizes what she has done, nothing in the universe – not me, not Agatha Harkness, not even Dormammu himself – will be able to withstand the force of her rage.

If he cannot reach her, she will not only destroy him, but in her grief, she will tear apart the multiverse and everything within it. Wanda’s grief is a cosmic force all its own.

He knows. He became well-acquainted with it in Westview when, like a puppet himself, he was sent to neutralize her.

Now, suspended between a host of conquered planets at the mercy of the god of the Dark Dimension, Wanda is draining him, even as he dredges up every last store of energy that the reactor can generate to resist her. Around him, the dimension roars with the collective fear of an infinite number of trapped beings.

I’ll hold off Dormammu, but if she doesn’t snap out of his spell, neither of us will be able to stop her and Dormammu will take Earth’s dimension.

As Dr. Strange warned, Vision needs to thwart Dormammu’s endless designs to absorb Earth into the Dark Dimension, but Vision also needs Wanda and he must find a way to get her back.

He sends another pulse of energy, forcing her to pull back, but she recovers quickly, his blast nothing more than an annoying insect bite. If he could just get to her. Look into her eyes. He knows like he knows who he is, who they are together, that he can reach her.

“Wanda, you are killing me. Darling, please,” he begs, knowing his words are a poor substitute for what he needs to do to free her.

“The Vision must die,” Wanda repeats, sending a last, decisive blast towards him. The impact sends fire through his body, heat like nothing he’s ever experienced. He falls, hurtling like a chunk of meteor to the hellish rock below. The impact is nothing compared to the pain. Vision is burning in his skin. His senses are compromised, his systems failing, despite the nanobots unfurling in his bloodstream, scurrying to stem the hemorrhages of a body struggling to remain intact.

When Wanda lands before him, he senses her more than he feels her. He reaches out to her, lifting his eyes to gaze into hers. Even though his vision is fading, he sees that they are as bottomless as the dark matter of the cosmos. As dark as the evil that holds her.

“Wanda, you must remember…who you are…”

“Wanda Maximoff is no more,” she drones and his heart fractures at the realization that her words might hold an unwanted truth. Perhaps Dormammu has buried Wanda…his Wanda… so far inside herself that she may never emerge again.

“Who said…Wanda is no more? Dormammu? You once said…you needed no one…to tell you who you are. Do you really take him at his word?”

She blinks, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Dormammu,” she murmurs and the emptiness in her voice is rich with confusion. On the strength of this, Vision staggers to his feet.

“You are not a puppet.” He reaches for her, her flinch half-hearted because she allows him to grasp her by her upper arms. “You are Wanda Maximoff. You are the Scarlet Witch –“

“The Scarlet Witch,” she repeats.

“—and you are my love,” he finishes before his strength gives out and he falls to one knee before her. “I am weak. I am not sure if I will recover, but you must remember who you are.”

The struggle is clear on her face. “Remember who I am. Who I am...”

“Yes. And remember that my love for you is set in stone, no matter what happens here.”

“Vision?” she asks, her question as plaintive as a child’s. He looks up again at the brittle tone of her voice. The darkness in her eyes floods with a blue as bright as the summer sky over the mountains, a blue that is out of place in this terrible hellscape.

“Wanda,” he says, reaching for her, but his strength is failing him as energy is diverted to repairing his damaged systems. “Remember us.”

She stiffens as if a distended rubber band has snapped into place. “Vision!” she shouts, kneeling before him. “Did I do this?”

He wants to say give her an affirmative answer but speech has escaped him and staying conscious consumes his every last effort.

“No-no-no-no,” she moans, tears distorting her words. “You can’t…you can’t die again.” Her hands glow and she places them over him. “I’m here. I’ll fix you.”

Vision takes a deep breath as her energy courses through him – familiar, like the smell of her hair or the softness of her skin. The fire that threatened to consume him earlier cools to a gentle pulse as the nanobots in his body feed on her energy, accelerating repairs, putting his body back together again at a rate even they had not been designed for. But they hold onto their structural integrity and Vision is able to see clearly again. His thoughts untangle and his strength returns.

She withdraws her powers, her palms warm as she cradles his head in her hands. “How? How did you get here?”

Vision puts his hand over hers, reveling in the feel of her skin against his. “It is a rather long story that I will share with you when we leave this place.”

“First things first,” she says, crushing her lips to his and at that moment, he realizes how much he has missed this as well, the sheer physicality of her love for him. A mad god howls in rage just beyond, the Dark Dimension threatens to swallow them both, but he is lost to the taste of her mouth and the warmth of her arms wrapped around him.

“Hey, guys?” comes a voice that pulls them from their bubble of bliss. “I could use some help over here.”

They pull apart to see Dr. Strange, locked in some magical struggle for dominance against the god of the Dark Dimension, straining against his power.

“I’ve got this,” Wanda says, rising into the air. “Don’t go anywhere.”

In awe of her power, he takes off beside her, ready to offer her the backup she really does not need. “You will never get rid of me again.”

***

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side-effect-of-the-meds · 5 years

Note

Can you write Erin with OCD (like intrusive thoughts, obsessive fears, compulsions)? and her and Matt (since you said they’re friends) having a convo about it? (Matt forces the conversation ofc lol)

And here it is!!!!!!!!!! Disclaimer time: I’ve had like three people read this. The first one didn’t talk to me for a few days after it and kind of retreated into herself bc it hit too close to home for her. The second couldn’t make it past the first few paragraphs bc it was too painful for him. The last was shook bc he knew I wrote to escape some of my own pain. As desensitized as our fandom is to the phrase “I’m fine”, I really am fine. I’ve gotten a lot better than I used to be and am well on my own road to recovery so don’t worry.

Trigger warnings: extreme descriptions of blood + self harm, violent thoughts, suicidal thoughts, generally heavy themes including vague allusions to homophobia and rape and body-shaming, substance abuse, pain and angst beyond compare. If you survive all that, you can see Matt taking care of Erin at the end.

Blood runs in rivers down Erin’s forearms, thick and hot pouring slowly but steadily from the freshly parted flesh. Glass bottles are lined up on the counter, waiting for their turn. Every person has their coping mechanisms. Kevin’s was drinking and Erin’s was cutting. It was the worst symbiotic relationship in the world. Every time Kevin finished a bottle, Erin had a new one to slit her wrists with.

A shaky breath left Erin’s lips as she leaned heavily on the sink. Pressing her forehead to the cool marble counter, a savage smile tinged her lips. It hurt. The stinging of her cuts sliced through the emptiness that has consumed her for so long. More, she thought. I want more.

Pain was the easiest thing for Erin to feel. Most days it was the only thing she could feel. Day in and day out, Erin found her drugged haze parted by bouts of immense anguish. Laying alone in her bed, she found herself assaulted by memories of lecherous old men making her bed frame creak. Seated beside Aaron as he hisses at her in sharp German, she can practically feel the savage yank of a woman’s hand in her hair. Changing out in the locker room she hears the laughter and banter of the other girls and has to force back memories of girls jeering as they forced her face into another girl’s chest.

Pain was the easiest thing for Erin to feel. Most days it was the only thing she felt but emotional pain wasn’t something she knew how to deal with. It wasn’t until Drake that she’d found this sinful pleasure. Just like Kevin, Drake drank like his life depended on it. Collecting the empty beer cans littered around her room, she carted them to the bathroom. Ripping one open, she rolled her sleeves up and brought the jagged edge to her skin. Screwing her eyes shut, she ran it against her skin, forcefully down the length of her forearm. The first time was the worst. The first time was the best. Pain and pleasure flooded her systems. Her eyes blew wide at the ecstasy rushing to her head. She hissed a breath through her teeth. It hurt so, so fucking good.

From there, Erin only got worse. Kitchen knives danced across her skin. Lighter flames burned away the lingering weight of Drake’s rough hands on her hips. Walking home from school one day, Erin passed a trash can brimming with broken bottles. Her heart pounded in her chest as a smile split her face. With every step she took, she could feel the euphoric rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her veins soon to be split open. Maybe one day Drake would find her bleeding out.

“Tell me what you’ll do then, brother dear?” she cooed to herself. Sucking in a shaky breath she tossed the trash can lid away. Sunlight glinted off the jagged bottles. Erin plunged both her arms into the bin. A groan tore from her throat. For a few blissful seconds Erin was alone, swaddled in the blinding pain of glass parting the delicate skin on her arms to reveal the red sea. Pain and pleasure wound themselves together until Erin could no longer discern where one started and the other stopped.

Neither her departure from the Spear’s nor the love of her cousin and the attempts of her brother to bond with her changed things for her. In fact, they only made it worse. All her life, there’d been a part of Erin hellbent on her survival. It was the part of her that always seemed to get her in the most trouble. Any time someone brushed past her it screamed for her to shove them away. Every time someone smiled at her it urged her to claw it right off their face. These thoughts made sense when it came to Tilda and Luther but Nicky? Aaron? It took every ounce of Erin’s willpower not to throw them down on the floor and close her hands around their throats. Every day as she passed Aaron in the halls at school she stared straight ahead. The very sight of him sent fire coursing through her veins. She feared that one day she’d snap and break his neck in front of everyone.

Her instincts had made sense long ago. Back in California, Erin had always had to watch her back. Far too many innocent touches had gone too far. Far too many sweet smiles had twisted into wicked things that sent shivers racing down her spine. Deep down, she knew that Nicky would never hurt her. He was just a big, dopey puppy that had spent its whole life getting kicked but was too stupid to learn. Aaron was too. He wasn’t quite as stupid as Nicky but Erin never missed the desperation in his eyes as they tracked Tilda moving across the room. She never missed the softening of his frame when Tilda dragged an idle hand through his hair or pressed a kiss to his temple. Aaron and Nicky’s blind loyalty to their parents were their only faults.

That alone didn’t justify the vicious violent thoughts plaguing Erin as she lay awake, staring up at the mattress above her. More than once she’d climbed the ladder to Aaron’s bunk and watched him sleep, her hands hovering around his throat. Unlike Drake, Aaron was far smaller. His muscles had just started gaining some definition as his exy training grew more and more rigorous. Aaron also couldn’t fight if his life depended on it. Often, it did. Erin had had to bail her brother out of more than one scrape in the six months they’d lived together. One night as her fingers brushed up against his throat a single thought cut through her paranoia. Unlike Drake, Aaron was her brother. Her real brother. Alone before the mirror in the bathroom, she traced the planes of her own face, so reminiscent of her brother’s.

Maybe that was why she hated him so much. All her life there had been another little voice chanting alongside the other. Much like Erin and her brother, they were the exact same and yet nothing alike. Where one was hellbent on her survival, the other raged against it. Erin stared deep into the eyes of the girl in the mirror. She blinked and the reflection shifted. Dark circles rimmed blood shot eyes. Chapped lips pressed together into a hard line until they had almost entirely disappeared. A far more sickly frame replaced Erin’s own. Track marks raced up and down the exposed arms.

Lifting her own arm, she saw the reflection mirroring her. Bringing a shard of glass to her skin, the reflection brought a needle to his. Viciously, she tore her arms open with the little sliver of glass. Feeling flooded Erin’s sense for the first time in months and she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. As the feelings began to ebb away, she peeled her eyes open. In the mirror the reflection smiled savagely at her. A needle was embedded neatly into the crook of its arms.

“Aaron, no,” she begged. Tears ran like rivers down her face. Laughter filled her head, echoing through her skull. “Aaron,” she pleaded. She collapsed on the floor, clawing at the cabinets and smearing blood over them. Every person has their coping mechanisms. Erin’s was cutting and Aaron’s was getting high. If Erin wanted to save her brother, she’d have to save herself first.

Erin swept the shards of glass into a dustpan and emptied them into a bag to throw out the next morning. She scrubbed every drop of blood off the counter, cabinets, and floor. Winding bandages around her arm, she made a mental note to invest in more long-sleeved shirts. A lot of Nicky’s clothes were long sleeved. They were perfect for hiding Erin’s scars from her brother and, more importantly, her body from men.

Erin’s body was hers. She wasn’t ashamed of it but she certainly wasn’t proud of it either. Everyone she’d ever met faulted her for not taking pride in her beauty. Every one of them had been told to fuck off. Erin’s body had gotten her into far more trouble than it was worth. Hiding it seemed like the logical thing to do.

Nicky was elated when Erin came to see him of her own volition. When she’d asked for his old clothes, he’d been overjoyed, babbling about how he’d always wanted a younger sibling to hand his clothes down to. His eyes grew wide as if he’d just realized something. From the bright shine of his eyes, Erin knew it couldn’t be anything good. It wasn’t.

“We could go shopping!” Nicky exclaimed. “Oh my god, we could go to the mall and take Aaron-” The scathing look Erin sent him had him cut him off. “Or you could just pick out whatever you want,” he said, softly. Watching Nicky curl into his shoulders, sent a pang through Erin’s chest that she squashed quickly. Skirting around him, she threw open his closet to examine the contents. Up until Nicky’s disastrous attempt at coming out, Luther had been the one picking out his clothes. All of them were incredibly conservative pieces in dark, muted shades. They were exactly what Erin needed. With her scars out of sight, Erin hoped they’d stay out of mind as well. They didn’t.

The self-destructive voice in her head began whispering soft, sweet lies to her. It told her if she did it just one more time everything would be okay. It’ll make you feel so good, it cooed. Don’t you want to feel good? Don’t you want to feel something- anything! Don’t you want to feel again? When that failed, the voice took a darker turn. You aren’t worth shit. You think you’re something great now that you’re Erin Minyard? Wrong. You’ll never be a Minyard. All you’ll ever be is Erin Doe, a little slut from San Jose. You’re not even a good whore either. Who’s going to want a girl covered in scars? No one was ever going to love you. At least you could have sold you’re body but now? There isn’t a soul on the face of the Earth that would touch you with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole much less pay to do so. There’s no point. Just do it. Just slit those little wrists and let yourself bleed out. Maybe it’ll earn Aaron a sympathy vote and he’ll get into college with it. Maybe you’ll finally be of some use. It wasn’t until Aaron had gone sober that the voices got too much for Erin to bear. The timing couldn’t have been better.

All the pieces of Erin’s plan had fallen into place. Buckling her seatbelt, she sat beside her mother as they sped down the highway. Do it. Kill her. Kill yourself, the voice chanted. Steeling her nerves, Erin reached across her mother and yanked the wheel as hard as she could. Tires screeched. Tilda screamed. Erin’s pulse pounded in her ears. Adrenaline flooded her system. She felt the savage curve of her smile and leaned back into her seat, basking in the familiar high that preceded the pain as the car careened towards the barrier. Glass shattered and flew, embedding itself in Erin’s skin. A gasp escaped her lips. It felt so, so fucking good. Bathed in blood with her brain swimming in ecstasy, Erin barely registered the arrival of the paramedics. Her time at the hospital passed in a foggy haze on account of the pain meds. The only thing she remembered with any clarity was Aaron’s sobs. She was certain everyone in the hospital could hear his drunken wailing but the hospital staff had long ago given up trying to quiet him. Keeping him out entirely hadn’t worked either. He’d scaled the drain pipe and broken into Erin’s room. A small part of her was impressed by his tenacity. The rest was angered by his stupidity. What would have happened if he had fallen? He’d have died, is what.

The hospital couldn’t have his death on their hands so they simply moved Erin to a secluded ward so her brother wouldn’t bother the rest of the patients. Everyday after school, Aaron came to the hospital and did his homework on the floor beside Erin’s bed. Whenever he thought she was asleep, he’d crawl into her tiny hospital bed and wrap his arms around her, crying into the crook of her neck. The first time it happened, every one of Erin’s survival instincts kicked in. For once, all the voices in her head agreed. They screamed for her to throw him off of her and shatter his skull on the too white walls of the hospital. Aaron’s voice cut through her drugged haze, silencing all of them.

“Don’t go, Erin. Please, don’t go,” he had whispered, smoothing her hair down. “Don’t leave me here alone.” He isn’t like the others, Erin thought. Learning to love Aaron wasn’t going to be easy and Erin knew it. Baby steps, she told herself. Pain coursed through her body as she lifted her arm, winding it around her brother’s shoulders. Threading her fingers through his hair, she lay her head atop his and waited for him to cry himself to sleep.

Once Erin was discharged, Aaron retreated back into his shell and Erin’s heart sank. Communication wasn’t Erin’s forte. As if seemed, it wasn’t her brother’s either. She wanted things to work between the two of them. She really did but if Aaron wouldn’t talk to her, they weren’t going to get through this. Despite Nicky’s relentless effort, the twins’ relationship deteriorated exponentially. Not a single word passed between the two of them. Not unless Aaron was drunk anyway. That Aaron didn’t count. People always said stupid things when they were intoxicated. Knowing that only made everything so much worse. After tucking her brother back into his own bed, Erin would retreat to the bathroom. Locked away all alone, Erin fell back to old habits. It was Erin’s only indulgence, her only reward for all she did to protect her family.

It was a habit she kept up until she met him. Matt. Mother. Fucking. Boyd. At six feet, seven inches, he towered over Erin. She didn’t even reach his shoulders. Appearance aside, Matt wasn’t like anyone Erin had ever met before. He was quiet and kind and awkward and incredibly genuine. She hated him immediately.

As wary as she was off the lanky bastard, she couldn’t help but wonder what secrets lurked beneath his own sleeves. She’d seen him take his shirt off to wipe the sweat off his body, only to reveal armbands stretched from mid-bicep to mid-forearm. None of the upperclassmen ever questioned him about it. Erin had a hunch it was because they knew something she didn’t. Swallowing her pride, Erin sought out Renee for some answers. Of all the upperclassmen, Erin liked Renee best. She couldn’t quite place why, though. It definitely had nothing to do with the delicate beauty that threaded through her solid frame or the fact that Erin had once seen Renee crush a watermelon with her thighs. Nope. Not at all.

Whatever the reason, Erin decided it didn’t matter so long as she got the answers she needed. Cornering Renee in the locker room, Erin sorted through her drugged haze. No matter the answer, Erin knew she needed her full attention for it. A somber look overtook Renee’s features as she told Erin what she knew of Matt’s tale. Erin felt her heart clench. She told herself it was just a side effect of the drugs but she couldn’t quite shake it. Some small part of her wondered what would have happened to Aaron if she hadn’t forced him through withdrawal. Would he have ended up the same shy and fearful creature as Matt? There was nothing wrong with being quiet. Erin herself hardly ever spoke while off her meds, but something about Matt’s reservedness wasn’t quite right. There was so much light and life just waiting to burst out of him but something was holding him back. Erin theorized that it may have been growing fear of falling back into old patterns. Unlike Erin, Matt had managed to keep his urges chained down. But at what cost?

Matt rarely ventured far from Dan, Allison, and Renee. There was nothing wrong with maintaining a close circle but Matt’s dire longing for friends was bright as day. Erin would never knock her own bad habits and she knew why. No one had ever cared for her. No one had ever been there to help her and no one ever would. Matt’s father was a dick and his mother was at wit’s end.

Erin groaned and let her head fall onto her desk. She picked it and let it drop again and again as if the action could physically dislodge the thoughts from her brain. Eventually, she gave up and dug her phone out of her pocket, along with a slip of paper Renee has given her. Erin dialed the number on it. Matt’s mother picked up on the second ring. Her voice was bright and cheery, exactly as Erin hoped Matt’s would be if he survived what she had planned for him.

Convincing her of Erin’s plan was unsettlingly easy. She had severely underestimated his mother’s desperation. Regardless, she invited Matt to Eden’s with his mother’s blessing. Leaving Aaron at Fox Tower, Erin pulled out all the stops for Matt’s party. Cracker dust, pills, and a wide selection of syringes were laid out for him like a feast fit for a king. Erin, Nicky, and Kevin watched as Matt trashed himself. About an hour later, they found him dangerously close to meeting his maker on the floor of the men’s bathroom. Squatting down beside him, Erin gave him a sharp smile.

“Oh, Matthew,” she said, shaking her head. “If only your mother could see you now. What would she say if she saw you like this?” Erin watched as Matt’s eyes grew impossibly wider.

“Mom,” he croaked. Tears rushed down his face.

“Guess you’ll just have to hope you’ll see her again in the next life. Good luck with that,” Erin said as she straightened. She left Matt alone in a pool of his own vomit to mull over her words. The Monsters crashed at Eden’s for the night so that they wouldn’t have to move Matt or leave him behind. A massive weight dropped off her chest when she saw Matt hobbling around the next morning. Matt spent the next few months keeping his distance from Erin and The Monsters. It wasn’t until he found Erin shadowboxing alongside a video of his mother that the rift between the two of them began to heal.

“You’re putting too much weight on your front foot,” he said as he stood at the base of the basement stairs. Erin whirled around, knife out. Matt raised his hands in surrender, a quiet calm had settled over him, a bored look in his eyes. It wasn’t the Matt that Erin had come to know these last few months. This Matt was something else. Something monstrous. He stared emptily at her until she lowered the knife. A small, sharp smile tugged at the edge of his lips. He knew he’d won. Dropping his hands, he strode past Erin to her laptop. He rewound the video until he found whatever it was he was looking for. “Here it is,” he said as he turned the laptop for her to see. “You’re balance is off and it’s skewing the rest of your footwork.” Erin turned a steely gaze at him. He set the laptop back on the table Erin had found. “Watch.” He stood beside her, leaving a healthy space between the two of them. He took up a fighting stance and waited for Erin to copy it. He threw a punch at the empty air in front of him. Erin mimicked it and he shook his head. “You’re throwing your body forward. If you lose your balance, you’re done.” Matt spent the better part of an hour unteaching all of Erin’s misconceptions of fighting. When Erin came down to the basement the next night, she found Matt waiting for her. It soon became apparent to Erin that their post-practice lessons would now be a nightly occurrence. To her surprise, she didn't quite mind it. In fact, she sort of... enjoyed them?

Night after night, Erin channeled her frustrations from the day into punching punching bags across the room. It soon evolved into sparring matches between her and Matt. He was far bigger and far more experienced than she was but that only made her small victories all that more satisfying. Above all else, Erin found herself inexplicably drawn to this Matt. It wasn’t a mask he pulled out just for her. No, it was like looking through a diamond in which each image was just slightly distorted and none in the same way. This Matt was rough and mean and he fought dirty. He was just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. At the end of each night, that Matt slipped away. In his place was the one everyone else knew. It took Erin a while but, gradually, she started to grow fond of that Matt too. Sitting side by side, she watched him ramble on and on about Dan.

“She’s just so amazing, ya know?” he said, starry-eyed.

“She’s pretty badass,” Erin admitted softly.

“Hey, mind if I ask you something?” Matt asked, snapping his gaze back to Erin.

“You just did.” Matt returned her empty stare with a wry smile.

“What exactly is up with you and Kevin?” he asked. Erin let her eyes fall shut and leaned her head back against the wall. Of course he’d ask about that. She really didn’t want to talk about Kevin that night. Just a few hours ago, he’d been getting on her about her diet. He’d accounted her recent weight gain to her sudden increase in ice cream intake. He wasn’t wrong but that didn’t mean he should say it, especially in front of Seth. Erin took more than enough of his shit without Kevin handing over more fuel for his fire.

“He’s not my type,” Erin said finally.

“Oh? Not into snobby rich guys?” he teased.

“I’m not into guys,” Erin replied. She peeled her eyes open to watch her words register across his face. His eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. Light danced in his eyes as a smile began to curve his lips.

“Does that mean you and Renee-”

“I’m not fucking Renee,” Erin said.

“Not yet you’re not,” Matt said. “We’ll see if I can change that for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Erin glared at him.

“No.” End of conversation.

“Why?” Erin sighed, dropping her head into her hands. Why did he have to be like this.

“Because I said so.” It was Matt’s turn to sigh. He finished unwrapping his hands in silence and let the conversation drop. Until late Sunday night.

“Why?” he asked again. Erin already knew what he was talking about but she feigned ignorance. “Erin.” She didn’t answer. “Jude.” She dragged her gaze up to meet his. “Why?

“No one wants a girl covered in scars,” she replied.

“Scars?” She watched his brows knit together. Erin took in a breath to brace herself. Keeping her eyes glued to Matt’s face, she pushed the sleeves of her sweatshirt up to her elbows. She heard the strangled cry escape his throat and watched him clasp a hand over his mouth. Tears flooded his face as he reached a hand out to her arms. He stopped just before he could touch them. “Oh, Erin. What have you done?” he whispered. With her permission, he wrapped his hands around her forearms, swiping his thumbs across the ruined skin. He kept his head bent, studying Erin’s scars. She couldn’t see it but she knew he was still crying because every few seconds, another tear would slip down his face and fall onto her own skin.

“I’m going to bed,” Erin said finally, yanking her arms out of his grasp. As she left the basement, she could feel his eyes on her but she refused to look back. She didn’t think she’d survive seeing the anguish painted across his features again.

Laying in bed that night, Erin stared up at Renee’s bunk. Sleeping in a room with three other women took a serious toll on Erin’s mental stability. Changing in the locker room alongside them was hard enough but to constantly contend with them walking around without bras or pants drove her mad. As such, Erin spent as little time in her dorm as she could get away with. Much of her day was whiled away in class, on the court, or in her brother’s room. Night was the only time she couldn’t find a legitimate excuse to avoid them. It was her lack of hiding places so late at night that resulted in her discovery of the roof access. Slipping silently out of bed, Erin grabbed her pack of cigarettes and her lighter from the nightstand. Making sure she locked the door behind her, she padded down the hall to the stairwell. Erin’s eidetic memory easily recalled which steps squeaked and she hopped easily over them. The cool metal felt nice pressed against her bare feet. Not as good as what she had planned for herself. At the top of the stairs, she spent a moment jimmying the lock open before stepping into the cool fall air. Venturing towards the unguarded edge, Erin felt the adrenaline rushing through her. Seated at the edge, her breath caught in her lungs every time she peered down. It hurt. Not quite the same as cutting did but it did the job just as well.

Lighting a cigarette, she took a drag from it. She sang softly to herself, a trick she’d learned to calm herself when she was five. The combination of her own voice and the nicotine soothed her fraying nerves. All her hard work crumbled to nothing as she stood up, glimpsing the fall.

“Fuck,” she muttered. Turning her back on the dizzying drop, she trudged back to the door, singing to herself once more. Her body craved release. She stubbed her cigarette out on one of her arms, hissing at the pain. Discarding the butt, she pulled her lighter out of the other pocket and set to work on the other. Once she’d satisfied her urges, she trailed back down to her room. This time, when her head hit the pillow, sleep dragged her under.

The next morning, Matt refused to look her in the eye. Instead, he settled down in the bleachers away from the others and waved Erin towards Renee. As she ran laps with Renee, Erin couldn’t help glancing over at Matt in his lonely seat halfway up the bleachers. She wondered if they still had their late-night sparring session. God, she needed that sparring session. Kevin’s anxiety had been slowly but surely infecting her. If she couldn’t get rid of all the stress that had built up before she had to drive him out to another midnight practice, she might just kill him herself.

Fortunately, Matt was waiting for her in the basement that night. However, his usual smile was gone. Instead, his lips were pressed into a hard line. “We need to talk,” he said.

“Sounds like my cue to leave,” Erin said as she turned back towards the stairs.

“Erin, please,” he called.

“I don’t like that word,” Erin could feel the sharp edge to her words.

“Come here, Erin.” Erin let her shoulders sag as she turned to face Matt again. He beckoned her forward and she went. He took a seat on the floor. Erin sat down on the table.

“What did you use?” he asked.

“Knives. Glass. Lighters,” she replied. She kept her face as blank and her voice as disinterested as she could but it couldn’t stop the roiling of her stomach. Abby and Bee were the only people who ever asked her about her scars. Of course they did. It was their job. It wasn’t Matt’s, though. Why did he care what she did to herself?

“How long?” Matt pressed on.

“Since, I was thirteen so… going on six years?”

“Why? What does it do for you?” Erin stared at the floor. The weight of Matt’s gaze forced the answer out of her.

“Sometimes, I want to hurt people. I have these thoughts that happen at the worst of times. Last week, I saw a little kid walking her dog and my first thought is to rip it open and smear it’s blood all over her. I don’t know why. I just did. I didn’t want to hurt her. Or the dog. It was so small. So fluffy. Neither of them had even done anything to me. I think I just wanted to see blood. So I thought mine would be enough.”

“Was it?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“And what does your family have to say? What did Nicky and Aaron say?” A beat of silence passed.

“They don’t know,” Erin said.

“What do you mean they don’t know?” Matt exploded. “How the fuck can they not know?”

“Because I didn’t tell them.”

“Why not?” he demanded. Erin could feel facade cracking. Her hands curled into fists and she shoved them into her pockets.

“What if-” she stopped. “What if they don’t care?” Her voice trailed off. Angry tears welled in her eyes. Why was she telling him this?

“Erin,” Matt said, his voice cracking.

“Stop it!” she screamed. She slammed her hands over her ears as if they could block out his voice. “I don’t want your pity.” She screwed her eyes shut, trying to will the tears away.

“Does that mean Dan won’t love me?” Erin’s eyes shot open. “If no one wants a person covered in scars, does that mean Dan won’t love me?” Matt asked again. Erin dropped her hands as she watched him tug the armbands off his arms. Track marks raced up into the crook of his elbow. “Aaron’s got track marks, too. Does that mean no one will love him either? I’ve seen Nicky’s scars. He’s covered in them. That hasn’t stopped Erik from loving him. Wymack’s got scars. That’s why he got the tattoos; to cover them. Abby still loves him.”

“I said no one wants a girl covered in scars,” Erin snapped.

“Has that girl from Eden’s seen them? The one that served our drinks, I mean.”

“Ronnie? Yeah. What about her?”

“Well,” Matt said, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I heard her talking to one of the other servers and it kinda sounded like she might want you.” The words knocked the air from Erin’s lungs. Ronnie… wanted her? Ronnie had gone to school with Erin. She’d seen all of Erin’s scars, not just the ones on her arms. She knew where Erin had gotten them and why. But… she still wanted her?

“Oh,” was all Erin could manage.

Reaching a hand out, Matt stopped half an inch from Erin’s cheek. “Let me help,” he whispered. Matt wasn’t like anyone Erin had ever met before. He was kind and awkward and incredibly genuine. It was the reason she had hated him so much.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Never said you did. Erin, you saved my life. Let me save your body.” A tear trickled down Erin’s cheek. A finger brushed it away.

“I hate you,” she hissed at Matt. A soft smile tugged at his lips. He knew he’d won.

“I can live with that.”

In the following weeks, Matt begins devoting a portion of his time with Erin to teaching her coping methods. He teaches her to mix fake blood and sits with her, watching her paint it across her skin. It soothes her cravings and, as it turns out, she’d quite the artist. She paints artful swirls that slowly but surely turn into vines and chains and flowers and birds. Matt is in awe. Some days, he even lets her paint across his back and over his track marks. At some point, he gives up his armbands.

“I’ve already won my war,” he said, sliding the bands up over Erin’s arms. “You have not. Don’t you dare be ashamed of your scars, Erin. One day, you’re going to win your war. When you do, either you're going to give these to someone else or you’ll bring them back to me, alright?”He waited for her to nod, before smiling at her.

“Ronnie doesn’t love me,” Erin said.

“You’ll find someone, man. I promise you will and she’s going to be kind and pretty and she’s going to love you, scars and all.” Matt hesitated for a second. “Not that it’s much conciliation but I love you. No hetero, though.”

A bark of laughter escaped Erin before she could stop it. “No hetero,” she replied, returning his shy smile with a sharp one of her own.

#just a pipe dream #fem!andreil #erin minyard #erin jude minyard #matt boyd #the foxhole court au #the foxes #all for the game au #all for the gay #all for the game #aftg au #aftg hc #aftg #tfc au #tfc hc #tfc #musings of a sad bananna #reveal to me your deepest desires

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allofthisnonsenseplease · 7 years

Text

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 omg au where jack accidentally adopts a girl post-fall of overwatch ///i'm watching new girl and one of the characters is pregnant and now i'm thinking about kids again

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 eurgh parasites

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LOL but like jack saves a girl on the streets from something and is like "go home to your parents kid" but she's an orphan and he can't like leave her alone now so oops now he has like. a kid?? and he's suddenly forced to actually start taking care of himself so he can take care of this girl LOL WAIT NO NOW THIS IS T URNING INTO THE SAME PLOT AS THE CAT ONE XDDD

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 well, not quite. he didn't start taking care of himself to take care of the cat, he just cared if he lived or died.

maybe taking care of himself in order to take care of the girl puts him into a healthier frame of mind except for the part where he decides it's a good idea to take his new responsibility on a roadtrip to find his undead, estranged ex and maybe get back together

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LOL maybe she prompts him to do it she asks him about how he got himself into this situation and he quietly admits that it was ultimately bc he had a falling out with his husband whom he's still very much in love with and she's all smiles and is like "hey two dads sounds way better than one, let's go fix this!!" and he's gaping too much at the dad part to really understand what she just suggested

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 awww ^^ big dumb lug

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 >w< ooo but that's an interesting scenario, having jack in like an actually okay place trying to reconcile with gabe who's still very much spiraling like jack is still not doing great but he's recovering and trying to do his best for his girl

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 yupup meanwhile, Gabriel 'Murder Machine' Reyes...

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 qoq oh noooo what if talon finds out about the girl and like tries to kidnap her and jack becomes Rage Incarnate

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 talon. wtf? and Gabe, too. this is somehow more personal. they found this girl bc Jack came looking for HIM.

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 it's what finally snaps gabe out of his depressive/angry spiral

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 Jack being more focused on the fact that Talon GRABBED HIS KID than he is on Gabe or their issues. He's willing to conceed anything Gabe wants, if only he'll help get his girl back.

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 HHH AND JACK'S ONLY SUPPORT SYSTEM WAS JUST TAKEN AWAY FROM HIM SO HE'S RAPIDLY LOSING IT AGAIN

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 eep!

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 he comes the Fuck after them with a single-mindedness that's terrifying when gabe tries to intercept bc he can so easily see jack getting himself killed, jack actually stares him down and threatens to kill him if he doesn't get out of the way zero sentiment. totally cold-blooded. gabe: jack think about this for a sec jack: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ba/28/91/ba289158fa7412e37dcd78d74d5bb45a.png

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 Gabe gets pissed off at first, but it's so icy that there's really nothing to latch on to. His whole relationship with Jack and the awful tangle and destruction its downfall led them to has been the most important, all-consuming thing in his life for so long that he had forgotten that there might be other things more important. Jack's found one. i have seen the puppy meme, yes XD

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 OMGGG AHH GABE GETTING JEALOUS AND FRUSTRATED THAT JACK SEEMS TO HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT HIM

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 lol GABE THERE'S BIGGER THINGS AT STAKE

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 also getting mad at himself for not being able to move on but taking it out on jack qoq

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 At some point while they're going after the kid, Gabe lashes out at Jack bc of the jealousy, like 'What the FUCK were you thinking bringing a kid along to hunt me down?' and Jack is all 'I was coming to find you to see if we can hash things out, you colossal jackoff! at the very least i wanted to apologize!'

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 QoQ "i just wanted-" "WHAT jack? what the fuck were you..." "i just wanted us to be a family!"

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 oh jack. you poor, poor deluded fool

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 gabriel falls silent, staring at jack briefly then looking down. jack rubs at his eyes tiredly. "she made me better," he explains quietly. "she was something for me to fight for. i had a reason to be better, gabe. and i wanted that for you too."

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 oh fuck you for that one ;n;

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 qwq gabriel feels hollow and raw all over at the idea that jack believed he was even capable of getting better

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 ((@ the comments popping up on twitter: if spanking's involved, does that make it whipped cream pie?)) hey. OUCH.

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LOLL

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 it's taking all my self control not to butt in with that god awful joke. i want you to know that and be proud of me.

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LMAO I LOVE YOU <3333

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 <3

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 ghhh but gabe doesn't believe in himself, he's just so angry all the time and even now he wants to hurt jack and... he decides it'd be best if he just helped jack get his girl back and then left

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 ;_; noooooooooooooo

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 so he gets EXTRA reckless on this mission qoq fuck it, he's betraying talon- might as well draw all the fire to himself, sacrifice whatever he has to in order to get jack and his girl out of there

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 oh gabi

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 jack is like totally not caring about his own safety so gabe has to be extra reckless to make sure that the girl actually has someone to take care of her after this

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 lol trying to out-reckless each other like the fukkin target ducks in a shooting gallery game

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LOLLL in the process gabe realizes how in love with jack he still is qwq

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 PRAISE how many followers do you think i would lose if i made the joke?

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LMAO AHHH WHEN THEY FINALLY FIND HER JACK RUNS TO HER AND SWEEPS HER UP IN A HUG AND IS JUST LIKE IMMEDIATELY IN TEARS and she's crying too and they're hugging each other so tight and gabriel watches them and feels his cold heart twisting into knots

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 ;-; Jack carrying her over and introducing her. Calls Reaper Gabriel, of course, as if the years between the good times and now never happened.

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 QwQ and she's wiping at her eyes and smiling all huge and asks "so should i be calling you papa?" she steals gabriel's heart immediately but he's hit with the overwhelming sense that he doesn't deserve this

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 Jack mirrors the thought. 'I don't deserve her,' he murmurs, 'but I'm damned lucky to have her.'

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 QOQ gabriel sees them to a safe house and has to disappear for a little while jack is worried that gabe is gone for good but he does come back after a few days he's all sheepish and shy but he mumbles that he wants to try

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 GABE YOU BIG SOFTIE

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 qwq he's like really really awkward and kind of uncomfortable at first

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 lol the most awkward grim reaper

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 he like doesn't know how to interact with this girl she's determined to call him papa

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 lol Gabe has met his match!! XD also holy shit i really need to turn in

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 OKAY WE WILL DISCUSS MORE TOMORROW <333333

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 yes pls!!! night night <3<3<3

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 GNNN

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 does Jack wear boxers or briefs. important question. tell me he doesn't go commando in his SC pants. nm tweet is full. ppl can imagine what they want lol

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 lol now i'm just imagining gabe pulling down jack's pants to find he's gone commando and being horrified gabe's all gruff and grumpy and isn't comfortable opening up yet and when jack tries to talk to him, he just gets all sullen. but somehow when this girl talks to him he can't find it in himself to snap at her.

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 prro reaper didn't even want Jack backa nd now he has Jack AND a daughter like who's going ot feed and water her and make sure she gets exercise? FUCK I CAN TYPE WHO SAYS I CAN'T

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LOLL he gets attached to the girl very quickly but jack is a little more difficult

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 He's~ already~ attached~~! never really came unstuck~! Gabi you're doomed just roll with it

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 XDDDDD

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 76 hears them talking at night in low voices. He can't shake the uncomfortable feeling that a lot ofit is about him, but he never asks. He's a little afraid to know. It's eerie how some mornings both of them will look up at him as he comes into the kitchen of their safe hose, watching him silent and attentive as cats

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 omg that's a cute image ahhh jack giving her a lil kiss on the top of her head in the morning gabe pouting internally bc he wants a kiss too but like they're not there yet,,

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 XD GABE! YOU HAVE TO PICK ONE! WHAT IS THIS BEING COMPLEX AND WANTING CONFLICTING THINGS? POPPYCOCK!

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 XDDDDD how do gabe and jack finally stop snipping at each other over dumb shit or ignoring each other XD

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 what if the little girl claims to be afraid of monsters in her closet and Jack knows its a lie, and Gabe pretends to scare it away, but she insists and makes them sleep with her...only she sneaks out of bed in the middle of the night and leaves them alone. they wake up tangled up in each other, and go out to find her sitting on the couch watching cartoons and eating ice cream for breakfast and she complains that they snored too loud.

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 AWWWWW CLEVER GIRL eeeee and they're all snuggled up together and gabe almost thinks he's in the past

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah my one weakness XD oh, let's see...

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 eeeee

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 what if she asks for stories at night--like, she'll want to sit in one dad's lap while the other tells a story. and she wants REAL stories. and she wants FIGHTING stories with GUNS and SUPERHEROES. And Jack & Gabe end up taking turns telling her stories from the Crisis. And when one's talking, the other can never help but interrupt to correct or make fun of the other. And sometimes she'll shush the interrupter and get them arguing over who's teh favorite, and sometimes she'll agree and be like 'yeah, dad, that was REALLY DUMB'

and as they're talking about the past back when things were good between them, the old feelings start to come back to the surface and they remember why they were great together

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 QwQ HHHH and then they finally put her to bed and they kind of sit in the living room silently together

and jack keeps glancing at gabe out of the corner of his eye while gabe pretends not to notice

and jack finally kinda clears his throat awkwardly and says, "you know, you don't have to sleep on the couch tonight. you could..."

"sleep in your bed?" gabe interrupts.

jack flinches from how he says it but nods anyway.

gabe lets him hang in suspense for awhile even though they both already know the answer is going to be yes

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 :eyes:

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LOL

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 Jack tries to break the awkward silence by starting in on the story Gabe told earlier--'the way i remember it was...' so and so. the stories they remind themselves of with Jack's little girl safely tucked in bed are darker and sadder and harsher than either would have told her. Jack pours himself a drink as they talk. he pours gabe one too, without asking, and they take turns pouring after that. The minutes turn hazy, blurring into one another. The kitchen is too warm, they're sitting too close, leaning heavily against each other, shoulder to shoulder, heads bent over their glasses like conspirators. Neither knows who initiated the kiss. It's slow at first, hesitant, an old habit picked up in the midst of drunkenness and shared loss. It grows heated before either fully realize what's happening, but, by then, neither wants to stop. Gabe remembers the offer of a bed. He lets his full weight press against Jack, knocking him slowly from his chair. When they fall together, they don't hit the floor, but dissolve through a cloud of nanites and land with a bounce on the cheap mattress. Shadow stepping works the alcohol right out of his system, and Gabe finds his head clear. Jack is still kissing him, however, needy sounds spilling from his throat as his hands clutch at Gabe's coat. It would be easy--so easy--to just let go, blame it on the alcohol tomorrow. The temptation is too much to resist, and Gabe bears down atop Jack, kissing him back with fervor as if this will be his last chance to regain everything he lost.

holy shit that's more than i realized

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 SHRIEKINGGGGGGG GAAAABE i love how they are literally married but still pining for each other qoq

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 lol

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 jack actually stops them. they're both most of the way naked and grinding against each other and jack puts a hand on gabe's chest and asks him to stop for a second he wants gabe so bad but not if this is going to be it

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 noooooooo jack go for it lure him back with your jacktastic wiles

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LOL he rolls them over, crawling on top of gabe, and begs him not to pretend this is nothing later

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 oh my god ohhhhhhhhh my goooooooooooooooooooood not cool dude ;_; lol Jack's a weepy drunk

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 awwwwwww starts ugly crying into gabe's chest gabe is confused bc. this is such a turn off but he wants to fuck jack more than ever

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 XD omg it's calld LOVE you jackass you LOVE him YOU'RE IN LESBIANS WITH HIM

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 AHAHAHAHA jack is like sobbing while still grinding into gabe and it's taking way too much willpower not to just throw him on his front and fuck him immediately

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 Gabe dissolves away from under him and Jack cries out as he drops. In an eyeblink, Gabe has reformed on top of him, pressing Jack down with all his weight, grinding slow and deliberate up against him. He practically tears the jacket off him, then runs his hands across Jack's shoulders--shown off so handsomly beneath the compressions shirt--down his arms, until his palms cover the backs of Jack's hands and Gabe can lace their fingers together. He ducks his head to bite the back of Jack's neck, sucking at his skin, leaving a string of lovebites from his hairline down the side of his neck to the crook of his shoulder.

'You never stopped being mine, Jack,' he growls against his skin. 'Not back then. Not now. Not ever.'

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 HOLY SHIT fans self

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 possessive gabe orz and then we hope Jack got the girl some noise cancelling headphones 'cause this is not gonna be a quiet fuck

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 OH GEEZ

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 ((haha ASSphyxiation X'D)) https://twitter.com/rosephtxt/status/917180354452086784 ((i am a delight))

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LOLL jack is still all teary-eyed but he growls at gabe to come and take him then >w<

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 Gabe, thinking to himself: which i would ALREADY BE DOING if you hadn't needed to have a little breakdown

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LOL

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 Gabe, this one is a mess. Throw him back.

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 AHAHA

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 Try again. You're a handsome monster with lots of opportunites on the dad dating scene.

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 LMAO god imagine reaper trying to find love on tindr

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 i could prolly imagine it better if i knew anything about tinder aside from (gay?) dating site

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 it's the app where it matches you w people and you like decide whether you're interested or not and then you go on a date or whatever

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 interests: disincorporating, shotguns, revenge, hiking, double agentry

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 knitting

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 musical theater HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 XDDDD also i'm technically still married but it's a long story we're not together anymore

SuspiciousPopsicle - 10/08/2017 76: what a co-inky-dink so am i. i bet this mysterious stranger will really GET me.

firesonic152 - 10/08/2017 HA AWKS

#cornfuck and the reaper #R76 plot ideas

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 4 years

Text

My advice on leaving the Unification Church

I was never a true believer in the Unification Church. Don’t get me wrong, I was extremely religious. I went to youth group, attended plenty of workshops throughout the US and abroad, made sure to start off each day with morning Hoon Dok Hae, did conditions, fundraised, and I even taught the Divine Principle. My greatest desire was to be a true believer. The thing is… it never felt right. I loved Rev. Moon and I found the Divine Principle to be extremely logical, but that didn’t mean he was the messiah nor did it mean the Divine Principle was true. I prayed, I fasted, I studied, I took cold showers, I witnessed, I helped the youth in the Church… yet none of this made Moon’s claims true to me. This odd conviction of Moon not being the messiah constantly weighed on my heart.

One day I finally took a step back to look at the Church. I put down the pressure of my friends and family and this odd relationship I believed I had with Rev. Moon and I just looked at the Unification Church for what it was. It was then when I realized what a mess I was in. It took a long time to find peace with the Unification Church and to find out who I was. The pain of realizing my own deception was excruciating. During these days of doubt and departure I was told the following by friends, family, and church elders:

“It’s a spiritual thing. Evil Spirit World is attacking God’s precious Blessed Children.”

“You need to improve your relationship with your parents. Your lack of obedience with them is disturbing your vertical connection.”

“Are you on drugs?”

“Did you ‘fall’?”

“You want to leave because you are guilty of your sins. You have to deal with them eventually.”

“You don’t have a deep understanding of the Divine Principle.”

I had a lot of bogus spiritual advice and accusations. What I really needed at the time was advice, guidance, and conversation with those who were in similar positions. I did not know at the time, but plenty of people were in the same position. Here are some words of “wisdom” for any BC who desires to leave the church.

Have friends. Do not avoid having close relationships with “outsiders” and MAKE FRIENDS. A lot of BCs have a supremacist view of BCs even after losing faith. The truth is, you can have a relationship with just as much depth with a non-BC then with a BC. I am puzzled by how many who let go of the UC belief system but continue to drown themselves in UC culture and limit their friendships with non-believers. It is true that it is easier to make friends with other UC members because of our similar backgrounds but you are limiting yourself if you only expose yourself to and acquaint yourself with a single culture/social circle. Making friends outside the UC will help tear down your fears and anxieties of the “outside world”, open your mind and force you to re-examine your understandings and ideas, and give you the strength to take a step outside the UC. Plus, there are a lot of cool people who are not in the UC. Please do not limit your social life to a bunch of half-Asian people who know the meaning of ansu and indemnity.

Value your experiences in the UC. You were raised in it and there is nothing you can do about that now. Maybe you did a few years of STF, a couple 40 Days in Cheongpyeong, had a broken blessing, and never got around to getting a girlfriend in high school… do not let those experiences of pain sour your existence but instead let these experience enrich your life. Pull value out of your experiences and do not let resentment consume your life. It is great to be passionate against the UC–I sure as hell am–but do not let this passion get in the way of effectively exposing the UC for what it is. Contribute an article to HWDYKYM, join the Ex-Moonies group on facebook, have an honest conversation with a BC friend–share your experiences and use it to edify others. Your desire to work against the UC should not be solely out of a raging hatred of the UC but also out of a desire to help others not be deceived like you were and help others get out of that deception.

Treat members with respect. Even if they can be illogical and can frustrate you, deal with it because you were there once too. Do not become self-righteous and begin to believe you are at all better than members of the UC. The UC is extremely deceptive and the nature of man is extremely weak. Be understanding. Be loving. Be compassionate. Do not maintain friendships with BCs in order to be an activist. Your conversations with BC friends should not just be about how hypocritical Moon’s affairs were or how corrupt the Church can be. They are still your friends and they are still people. Have respect for your fellow man.

Understand why you do not believe in Moon. I am not asking you to spend hours doing research every day on UC History and the errors of the Divine Principle. Before really cutting ties with the UC, though, I would encourage you to understand why Reverend Moon cannot possibly be the Messiah. Maybe you should pick up the Divine Principle and read through it fully. When I came out as a non-believer my parents asked me to re-read the DP. I did so with much hesitance but as I read through it I realized how incompatible it was with Moon’s lifestyle of sexual affairs and corrupt politics. I had a fuller understanding of why I could never believe in Rev. Moon or Unificationist theology. Know why you do not believe in Rev. Moon so you can confidently walk out and so you can defend your beliefs when criticized by your family and other believers.

There are others in your position. You are not alone. There are plenty of BCs who have shaky beliefs or are in the UC out of fear and pressure. There are plenty of BCs in the closet with their own doubts and unbelief. There are plenty of people to talk to and share your experiences with. Those BCs who aren’t really hardcore or flaunt their faith in True Parents at workshops are usually closeted nonbelievers. Open up with a friend who may be in that position. Plus, there are plenty of outlets on the internet to connect to freethinkers who were at one point associated with the UC.

Basically, find out what you believe, live your own life, value your past, get connected to other non-believing BCs, and open up your world to those you considered “outsiders”. Leaving may seem impossible but believe me when I say it is not. And when you’re cut off from the legalistic belief system and the pressure of the Movement, you will feel freedom.

MLP

______________________________________

Writings of former Unification Church / FFWPU members Many recount their experiences in the organization or their journeys out of it

Statement of Diane Devine submitted to the Fraser Committee

Scared of Leaving?

Allen Tate Wood on Sun Myung Moon and the UC

Young-oon Kim – it all ended in flames and tears for the professor

Cult Indoctrination – and the Road to Recovery

Fun with numbers – MLP

Hyun Jin Preston Moon violence at the New Yorker Hotel – MLP

What I Really Learned from My UC Experience – MLP

Sad Stories: The Death of David Ang – MLP

Buying Moon a Shiny New Rolls Royce – MLP

#Unification Church #Divine Principle #FFWPU #Sun Myung Moon #Hak Ja Han #MLP

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burger-louise · 7 years

Note

@Your post about people live commenting on their blogs: IT HAPPENS EVERY SINGLE TIME SOMETHING NEW COMES OUT. I'M SORRY YOU WEREN'T WARNED BUT IT'S NORMAL FOR TUMBLR BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!

okay no here’s the fucking thing. There’s this thing called tumblr etiquette. I’ve been around on this hellsite long enough to know how the system works around spoilers and whatnot.

The system works something like this:Teasers and trailers - you can talk about this the second it comes out bc everyone can access and the more spreading of these the better.Interviews with cast members/creators/anyone who is connected with the media somehow - start talking right away, no problemo. Some people won’t even watch those but they still wanna know the info. Recapping? Go right ahead. Highlight reel? Those are fun!Photoshoots/tweets/instagram posts - Spread them around!! No big dealio there!! Everyone wants to see those!!!!

BUT there is some level of consideration you need to take, and everyone needs to take, when we are talking about the actual fucking content. Why? There are a lot of reasons why.1. Some people don’t have access to the media yet (eg. they don’t have Netflix and have to wait for a Rabb.it stream)2. Their schedules don’t match up (eg. they had a thing called school to attend)3. They are mentally not ready to consume the content yet (eg. sometimes you have a day where you are not emotionally capable of taking in a lot at once and that is okay but people forget that)These are a small few reasons among many.

Also, the biggest reasons that this bothered me? Why this really got on my nerves and made me annoyed?? That particular post was about, if you didn’t know, the new season of Voltron that, as I type, has not even been out for 24 fucking hours. I come home from school and my dash is flooded with minute by minute spoiler filled commentary from almost every big Voltron blog I follow. If you have “spoiler-free blog” in your bio then okay fine you do you, but most don’t. You can’t start posting spoilers on the exact fucking day something is released just bc you managed to watch it on time like the hyperfixated creep you are. Some of us have lives. I know some other “fandoms” or groups of people on this site follow the blessed “at least a week” rule, where no spoiler content can be posted until at least a week of the content being released, giving people time to consume the content and take it in with a fresh experience. It’s fucking awful having weird phrases like “WOW SHATT CONFIRMED” and “I CANT BELIEVE _________ DECIDED TO DO THAT” why? Because it taints my experience of consuming that content.

Don’t be a dick and ruin stuff for others just because you managed to get in on it first. Not cool at all. I might end up making a clearer post on this in the future bc I’m just typing in a tired half-rage at the moment… but hopefully this cleared things up on my end and how I feel about this whole ordeal.

#mine #long post #asks #i am SO sorry about my rambling on your ask #also idk if you were trying to be rude to me or not?#but i think this mini-essay is a big enough fuck you if you were trying to hurt my feelings for some weird reason

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treeyo · 6 years

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When its been six months since your last blog, where do you even begin? Many changes happened in my life and am still processing them all but very much in the forward motion with the learning lessons acquired. With that, well I finally moved to Treasure lake, like finally really landed this March once I got my vehicle situation sorted and its been practically non stop work since. I will try to keep it short by using headers and pics then be more regular with it all so its not so much to cover and more valuable detail can come out. In essence, this places sheer beauty continues to amaze me and the people who observe and interact with it are a true blessing.

Community

You know the hokey part of permaculture about community and all of that social permaculture. Well it’s so true in the end. My Cincinnati, city based friends, have largely disappeared from my life, all but a select few now that i have properly moved here (only 35 minutes away). My Northern Kentucky network grows constantly. And to state it plainly, much of my successes or this places growth hinges upon selfless acts from others, service, community. Gifts beyond value but that also save on finances allowing me to stay with this project fully during the growing season. (Yes foreshadowing). It’s quite a mix here and i honor diversity and am enjoying this blend of Appalachian and river town culture scores to the city.

Past student and dear friend Kaila from BC, Canada stopping on her way across country. What a reunion, giving her a glimpse of the KY culture

Gil, such a generous person, getting ready to transport a beehive from his land to the lake to support both the garden and ecology here

Annie and her rolling around ways in the garden

Mike Lobb, a fishing enthusiast and proud supporter of the lake. and and his restaurant wastes help to feed the worms

Tom and his crafty skills and silly look helping me build artificial fish habitat

permablitz implementation of mushroom beds in hedgerow. it was almost all people from my town of Petersburg, Ky

Mary and Luke, two beautiful souled people who volunteered here often

Bryan and Daniel, two of my besties, jamming together. love them both

Stream Rehabilitation

Over the winter myself and part of the Berea, KY crew, who actually are connections from Portugal, implemented heaps of what I categorize in the PDC as restoring natural hydrology. The one rock dams, large and small woody debris jams have simply worked. The sediment has been trapped, the lake hasn’t muddied other than in the crazy amounts of rain that break or meet records. It’s helped as well with the nutrient overload which to deal with this problem we met it with these elements but also microbial blocks and pellets and also ducks.

one rock dams working to hold sediment back

Pools forming

one rock dams and small woddy debris

stair stepped approach

Animals

How much duckweed could a duck weed if a duck could weed duckweed?

Well it’s a lot and they do weed duckweed. As the nutrients pour in from the large watershed of the lake it causes each year relentless growth of duckweed. And I have been eating duckweed through the eggs that the ducks have steadily been producing. These ducks, mostly pekings, were gifts from the community and their rich golden eggs have delighted many. The golden color comes from the high amounts of lysine in the duckweed, just as I teach it in the PDC.

Also goats were lent to me and are fun, productive in their clearing, good at leaving fertility behind, but also a lot of work. Part of that comes from their sheer numbers, 17 in all. They require a lot of fencing moves to keep them on fresh pasture and their health in good shape. I have been really enjoying it but it in the end is consuming lots of hours. I did, of course along with the help from my NKY community, move their cages which had been in the same place for a few weeks. Instead of cleaning the cages and moving the manure to the compost area I decided to leave it right there and mulch on top so it didn’t all wash away in the rains just after the move. Next year i can carry seeds down there instead of manure to the compost area. an idea….

Alex welcoming the goats on their first day

Goats from the boat, having cleared back lots of weeds, mainly invasive

Compost

As always, as my students know, I am making, along with the help of many, lots of hot compost, completely square on the edge and at least one cubic meter in size. I did invest in a compost thermometer which has been helping with the quality control. The best compost piles have been coming from the lactobacillus rich beet kvass wastes from my friends at fab ferments. It quickly finishes and i am stockpiling lots of it right now for future use. Annie, the lead gardener of her brand Dark Wood Farm that leases land from us, has even used a bit. Also vermicompost has been expanding. I have the unique opportunity to sell worms to the fishing customers or simply give them away. We have scaled up to 275 gallons. Next door to fab ferments is La Terza coffee and their wastes have also been helping to feed the worms.

Beet Kvass waste

loading up the worm bin with Romain

Business

All these farming ventures of perennial systems are running concurrently to the running of the business here already. Pay fishing lake, bar, camping and events to be exact. It’s a lot of work and requires me to answer the phone, market, mow, weed eat, provide customer service and provide a better experience for those who come. It’s been a good year, the camping helping a lot in terms of revenue. And of course through community, Daniel, one of my closest neighbors has helped bring a lot of bar business in the last month or so through starting a tuesday night ping pong and a friday night open jam. Eternally grateful to him and his extended family as well as his front yard that has no grass in it which i drive by when i do leave the property. And the event production, we have many successful concerts, parties, weddings, and educational events. Plant based, not permaculture as i just cant seem to get people to sign up for my permaculture courses around here. And that is ok, i needed a break and its fun to have such a diversity. but yes its a lot of work. I work every weekend from friday morning to sunday evening here at the bar/ fishing lake/camping registration. I sneak away for farming ventures on the weekends by leaving my number on the door which is part of why i haven’t written a blog in so long.

Bryan in serious prep mode for our July 4th event

Park here!

Positive reaction laying down on our fourth of july event

the lists that make it happen, my goodness this project management is intense

Maria and Ron post marriage ceremony at the campsites

entrance to the bar

Campsite 2

biodiversity

As always my pursuit of biodiversity rages. I am still hacking away at the invasive and overcrowded natives. It helps my paw paws. Paw paw paradise is coming to fruition. We also planted in our some of our wonderful forest native medicinal herbs. Ginseng, goldenseal, bloodroot, blue and black cohosh, and wild ginger. They have done ok but are so far away its hard to get to them. It’s definitely a zone 4 and future plantings will be on the edge of zone 1 in sandy soil. I have also planted a hedgerow with different tree crops, berry bushes, and perennial vegetables. Taking care of the one we planted in the fall of last year also has been a continual maintenance. We also did quite a bit with mushrooms through both logs of oyster and wine cap on wood chips. It’s definitely developing a nice zone 1 for me around the edge of Annie’s 1 acre market garden. And in general this place is alive, teaming with biodiversity to create stability, resilience, and abundance!

More wooded wood chip beds and remay cloth covering logs to keep woodpeckers away

mushroom spawn in chunks of wine cap being placed in between layers of cardboard and wood chips

caterpillar on milkweed, i guess monarchs?

Phoebe babies in the same nest spot as last year on the back patio of the bar

the beaver is back!

freshwater mussel shell, food for other wildlife

oyster mushroom logs

Foraging

You cant have a paw paw paradise and not then go out and harvest. Hauling well over 50 lbs from the lake property and already another 20 or so lbs from 1 tree at my parents house, its been great. I have been saving the seeds and these will turn into hundreds, maybe 1000’s of more paw paw plant for the land and for sale. I am saving seeds of the big ones and random ones with great flavor. We also have stumbled upon some great mushroom patches and will we get to the spicebush harvest with all that is going on?

25 lbs plus haul in one morning, mainly thanks to the beavers chopping trees down years ago to give this patch space

native black capped raspberry that went in Annie’s CSA fruit add on

just a bit of the paw paw on the bar, giving lots away

huge wild fruits at the lake. giving thanks to the natives who once lived here and probably worked on the genetics

Abby and me looking for paw paw just before our successful event. thanks abby for referring a spark for foraging

Holiday

I end with the vacation i got to go on to the Asheville, North Carolina area for the SE Permaculture gathering. It also included a professional gathering and i loved meeting others from the area and finally meeting Courtney Brooke who Robina McCurdy, our common mentor, connected but we never got to meet in person until then. They have a great culture built down there and was inspiring to say the least. I know it will grow here, we have done an amazing work in this area over the years but i look forward to treasure lake being a growing point of culture.

Zev talking mutual aid, this guy is on it

So thank you to all who have contributed with volunteering, attending events, paying to go fish, to camp, to drink, to rent the place out. There is more for sure that has happened but i had to get this one out to press refresh on releasing these update blogs more often . I also pressed refresh on my life by moving back here, staying in one place for over a year, which basically hasn’t happened in almost 20 years and seeking help with my mental health. Never be afraid to do that. gardening is sometimes not enough, nor traveling the world and living your passion. I am glad i did it, i am blessed to have this place to experiment on. The development goes on here and please contact me on how to get involved. thank you to the community and the treasure lake experience. Never forget the final message of my patterns slideshow, LOVE. and that includes love for yourself. sounds simple but it takes effort that is well worth it!

ps the tip jar at the bar is going well with it being tips for tree planting. so this fall,

#letsplantsometreesyo

Project Update: A long Overdue one for Treasure Lake When its been six months since your last blog, where do you even begin? Many changes happened in my life and am still processing them all but very much in the forward motion with the learning lessons acquired.

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