#mutantkasper

[lew-d]

Much Like Suffocating || Darcy & Kasper

Darcy packs quickly.

She isn’t taking much, just what she feels is legitimately hers.

She leaves the dresses behind but takes the Osberry with her. Packs her jeans and sweatpants, bras and underwear but leaves his shirts. Doesn’t take even one, despite the fact that she’d worn his shirts more than she wore any of her own. She takes off the one she’s wearing and slips her own on instead, lovingly folding the button down and sitting it on top of the mattress.

Bernard leads her out, obviously concerned but not prying. She gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek and heads out.

And now she’s standing in front of Kasper’s - her - apartment with a single bag and a broken heart and no idea how the hell she got here. Second time in a week or so. It’s a personal record.

She knocks gently, tentatively at the door and waits for any sign of movement inside.

                                 “Kas?”

Her voice is scratchy and small, still full of tears and distress.

                          “Are you home?”

[syntheticallysentient]

☁ — mutant-kasper

01000111 01101111 01101111 01100100 00100000 01100100 01101111 01100111 00101110

[lew-d]

Darcy’s in the living room already when Kasper gets home. She’s curled up on the couch with the television on though she’s not really watching it. Knees pulled to her chest and Taisce curled up at her feet, she’s shaking a little but trying to ignore it.

“Hey, Ghost. ....Stay out here with me? Please?

[lew-d]

some nights i’m scared you’ll forget me again || darcy & kasper

@mutant-kasper

[ The birthday message is adorable and right on time -- she’d been falling into a bit of a funk over the last hour or so and had needed the distraction from her thoughts. Texts and phone calls from her dad and both siblings (and their significant others) had kept her smiling all morning, but when lunchtime came around without T’Challa, Darcy had felt her mood slipping.

Knowing Kasper will be home soon helps though. Or at least, she hopes he’ll be home. He might have plans for Halloween that she knows nothing about... ]

>> who is the big, grown man in that video???? that can’t be my Tash -- he’s still a tiny baby boy o: >> thanks ghost <3 <3  >> are you coming straight home after work?

[lew-d]

@mutant-kasper

“Um. So. I may or may not need your help reaching a tall thing.”

[lew-d]

In Somber Resplendence || Kasper, Darcy, and Harry

  It’s easy to lose track of time, of entire days when they spend most of their time in the tunnels. They eat there, they sleep there. They’ve practically moved into their hideaway cavern under Grand Central, and were they not busy helping people escape, Darcy would be horrified by the wrongness of it. They should be comfortable in their own home with their live Christmas tree and ridiculous decorations. But instead they’ve gone into hiding. Fugitives. Refugees in their own country, their own city. The three of them are their own little family though, and with the food and water they’ve stored in the cavern, they pretty  much have everything they need.

   Except showers.

  Eventually Darcy just gets fed up. They’re constantly dirty and grungy, and she feels gross. Convincing Kasper to go back to their apartment so they could clean up and change clothes had been easy, and she feels so much better now that she’s scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed again all the grime and sadness off her body. It’s not cold outside - which is weird for December in New York - but it’s freezing in their new little hovel, so Darcy bundles up. She grabs a few hats, debating which one she’s going to wear as she towels off her wet, freshly washed hair. Taisce trots happily through the apartment, clean after his own bath, and the two of them wait for Kasper to finish getting dressed.

   “Anything in particular you want me to pack while we’re here?”

[lew-d]

Darcy → Kasper

@mutant-kasper

>> where are you?

[lew-d]

Darcy → Kasper

Darcy: hi.

Darcy: i miss you. :c

[lew-d]

Darcy → Kasper

Darcy: have you ever been to rhode island?

[lew-d]

I’m Ready to Suffer (And I’m Ready to Hope) || Kasper, Darcy, & Harry

@mutant-kasper:

 Kasper sits across from their building, watching Darcy through the windows, every feature sharp and clear despite the distance. His own is wide open, making his room colder than the inside of the fridge, but the door’s closed and he’s laid a sweater under the crack to keep the chill from going into the apartment.  

He doesn’t trust himself to go in there yet. Harry hasn’t called yet, and he’s spent the past however long just watching Darcy– which he realizes is a little creepy, but if he goes in there right now he’s not going to know how to not tell her, and he can’t stomach the thought of it. Not until Harry calls, because then they’ll be caught for sure, and they won’t be able to come near her again. And he’ll feel better, for not having gone after them, to make sure of it himself.

The screen of Darcy’s cell phone lights up and he takes off in an instant, crossing the distance in seconds and landing in his bedroom with a loud thunk, half-morphed. One of the wings isn’t quite human enough yet, and he feels it twist as he lands awkwardly; the sharping sting of pain follow into his right wrist as his bones extend, and his arm gives out when he tries to use the hand to push himself up.

        Taisce’s barking at his door, and he has to keep going, opening it with his good hand, hoping he’s there in time.

It’s quiet when her phone rings, and Darcy’s almost grateful for it. She has the television on for background noise -- Clue’s been on demand for the last few weeks, so she has it on repeat 24/7 now -- but the apartment feels lonely without Kasper there. She knows he’s not in his room though she’s not sure whether or not she’s supposed to know that, and Taisce is fabulous company as always, but... there’s something creeping down her spine like oil, something prickling the hairs on the back of her neck into standing on end. It’s... disturbing, is what it is. She almost wants to scream just to break the mounting tension she feels tightening her shoulders.

So when Lady Gaga counts down and starts singing about summer boys and asses getting in beds, she nearly groans with relief. Of the very short list of people who’d be able to get her through whatever’s got her on edge, he’s near the top.

                            “Harry,” she breathes, the solace she feels at just knowing he’s on the other end of the line clear in her voice.

The second she brings the phone to her ear, a loud thud echoes from down the hall, startling her and the puppy. Taisce runs down the hall towards Kasper’s bedroom, and Darcy lowers the phone long enough to shout in his direction.

                                          “Are you okay?”

Bring the phone back up, she sighs, pacing aimlessly in front of the couch.

                            “Hi, sorry. What’s up? How are you?”

[lew-d]

@mutant-kasper

There pizza she makes him is huge.

Huge.

She’s not even sure how she managed to get it in the oven.

Darcy works hard all day to get it finished before he comes home from work. The giant square monstrosity isn’t one of the boxed, frozen deals: this one she makes herself from scratch. The crust and the sauce are the two most important parts and the most time-consuming, but she knows it’ll be worth it in the end.

So she starts early, getting up as soon as he’s out the door to head to Oscorp to put the tomatoes on for the sauce and make the crust so it can rise. The pepperoni she slices and puts to the side, arranging them in a very specific pattern when they’re ready to be added to the pizza and baked.

She folds her acceptance letter to Parsons and sticks it back into its envelope. The pizza gets wrapped up tightly and the letter goes on top of the whole thing which she leaves on top of the stove for him to see when he gets home. If he reads the letter first, he’ll know exactly what the message means. Hopefully he’ll get a kick out of the whole thing. She happens to think it was a pretty cool idea to leave him a message in pepperonis:

                                                        YOUR MOVE

[lew-d]

@mutant-kasper

>> Christmas decorating this weekend, yes or yes?

[lew-d]

...And It’s Contagious || One Shot

There’s something about dawn that soothes Darcy.

Even on the nights when she’s been awake so long she’s watched them turn back into days, that hour when the sky is a marbled watercolor of pinks and oranges and yellows is magical. She doesn’t know why.

Maybe it’s that each new day brings the promise of a new start. There’s never a new start for her - the pain and the sadness and the terror stay with her long past the rise of the sun, but the potential for one is always there. It matters, she supposes, in some tiny way. It means there’s hope. Even if it’s not hope for her.

This dawn isn’t any different from all the others except for the part where she’s recovering in the hospital and not pacing anxiously around her own apartment. And the part where she’s thinking that... maybe that hope welling in her chest and painted across the sky is for her.

                                                             You can fight it.

Kasper had said it. But he believed it too - that’s the important part. It’s easy to just say something, anything when someone you love is sick or hurt, but his faith in her had been real. He hadn’t asked or offered to do anything for her; he believed in her. Does still believe in her. He believes she can do it herself.

Her finger taps her phone, and the screen flares back to life.

                                                             » y ou can do this.

She’s read the message hundreds of times in the few days since it was sent. She hadn’t been expecting a response; it honestly hadn’t even occurred to her that texting everybody by default meant texting him. But she had, and he’d texted back. Such a small, simple message. Only four words.

They’re the most important four words in her world right now.

Not because Harry said them but because Harry said them.

If there is anyone on the face of the planet who is entitled to give absolutely zero fucks about her recovery or anything else to do with her, it’s Harry Osborn. She’d hurt him and hurt him viscerally in a way that she’s certain she doesn’t fully understand the magnitude of.

But instead of ignoring her or telling her to fuck off or offering to give her anything she needs, he’d told her she could do it. That she could fight. That she could win. That she herself could do it all.

He’s done it again, said exactly what she needed to hear, even if he hadn’t meant to. Even if she hadn’t realized it at first. And Kasper had independently reaffirmed the message when he’d come to visit her just scant minutes after her phone had chimed.

She taps her screen again, staring at the words until they blur into incoherence in front of her eyes, replaying Kasper’s words in her head on a steady loop like a new mantra.

You can do this.

You can fight it.

You can do this you can do this you can fight it you can fight it you can do this you can fight it you can do this you can fight it you can do this you can do this you can do you can fight you can you can

                                                                      you can

Darcy turns to watch the sun rise over the city in streaks of gold and pink and orange as her atrophied spirit rises over the black hole behind her ribs in streaks of hope and determination and belief.

Belief.

It’s small, but it’s there. The part of her that’s her. The part of her that’s powerful and strong and impenetrable.

She’s a fortress. A citadel. Even battered and beaten down. Even an bit broken. Even terrified. Even exhausted and dehydrated and malnourished.

She can fight - she can fight and win.

                                                          And she believes it.

[shesbeauty-shesgrace-blog]

Mac ---> Kasper

(212): oye fideo

(212): you registering?

[lew-d]

2.

Monday goes the way Darcy had expected Sunday to go.

She’s awake before everyone else and decides to make breakfast. It’s habit by now - even when she wasn’t eating, she’d make breakfast for Kasper before he left for work. He’s used to it, but her siblings and her dad are surprised, pleasantly so, and they don’t hesitate to make it known.

Darcy’s mom is insulted. And doesn’t hesitate to make it known.

At length.

She only snaps back because she doesn’t know how her mom’s spazzing out will affect Kasper; she has no idea what he went through at his various foster homes or if raised voices will trigger him. That Darcy dares to raise her voice to her in with a guest in the house sends her mother into a cold, seething rage. The Lewises ignore it and move on. They probably shouldn’t have ignored it.

They make it through the day and into dinner before the shit really hits the fan. Eliza had told her Sunday night that she had a lot to talk about, and they make her fess up once they’re all seated and she can’t run away.

So she tells them everything.

Starting from the very beginning when she’d first moved to the city, met Kasper and reconnected with Jane. Through getting a job working for Tony Stark and getting attacked in Brooklyn. She told them about her many and varied friendships: from Billy and Foggy to Loki and Fandral (and yes, she tells about her adventure with them too). About getting attacked again after the board meeting at SI and how she’d killed someone.

And she told them about Harry. Those stories got the most and biggest reactions.

(”Oh my god, Instagram guy is Harry fucking Osborn?! Seriously?!” 

“Is he as hot in person as he is on tv?”

“He’s young but he’s smart. I like what he’s doing with Oscorp. Good choice, Darce.”

“.............”).

She tells them how they met at Tony’s birthday part and how he wined and dined her like a champ on Coney Island. How similar their humor is, how deeply and instantly they’d connected. How it seems like everything in the universe is conspiring against them. How much she misses him. How much she loves him.

He’s her weak spot right now. Her biggest vulnerability. There’s blood in the water, and Darcy’s mom has always been her own personal Jaws.

And she’s relentless. Merciless but also so artful. She weaves together weaknesses and past transgressions until she’s created an entire tapestry of shame and humiliation, a table runner of embarrassment that leaves Darcy red-faced and trembling in her seat.

(”Of course he didn’t want you, Darcy, you just gloated about whoring around with two other men. One of whom he apparently despises. He can’t afford flavors of the weeks; he needs loyalty.”

“You pushed him away. Huh. That’s no surprise, Darcy, you’re reckless. You don’t think. It’s what nearly killed your sister in the car accident you got her in; you just do what you want and think you’re above consequences.” “I told you you’d come to want a traditional family life, and now you do. And because you spent so many years having sex with anyone who smiled at you and poisoning yourself with all the drugs and the alcohol, God is making sure you’re reaping what you’ve sown. The one thing you want more than anything, and you can’t have it. He saw the devil in you and ran away. Good for him.”)

The last remark has her out of her chair and up the stairs to her bedroom where she stays for the rest of the night. She can hear angry voices downstairs - her mother and her father which would shock her were she not lost in her own horror - but what they’re saying is beyond her. Her brother and sister are used to this, but Kasper. She can’t believe she’s done this in front of Kasper who so adores her. Who thinks the world of her.

What’s he gonna think now?

Taisce’s warmth against her keeps her from breaking from reality completely, but if anyone comes in to stay with her, she doesn’t really notice or remember.

She doesn’t sleep at all Monday night. Just cries.

[lew-d]

1.

They adore Kasper.

All of them. Even her mother who, on principle, immediately disapproves of anyone who likes Darcy. But the tall, lanky teen is too sweet to disapprove of, so she’s not surprised.

Dinner is simple (latkes feature heavily after Darcy lets slip how much Kasper loves them), but it’s full of conversation. Not accusations. Not thinly veiled barbs. Not critiques.

Conversation.

Her mom’s gotta be a Skrull cuz Darcy has no idea who this woman is.

They missed the lighting of the first candle of the menorah because no one had known they were coming, so after dinner it’s time to catch up. Catching up is, of course, telling every embarrassing story about Darcy that can be remembered, but she has no shame. She even shares a few of her own. She thinks Kasper feels welcome; she hopes he does. He’s as much a part of her as these people are. More so. But eventually Darcy’s parents go off to bed, and Darcy and Kasper (and a sleeping Taisce) stay up talking to her siblings. She knows Eliza and Wes notice how tired and frail she looks, but no one says anything. ...Yet. She expects she’s being given time to steel herself for the coming interrogations.

She and her sister take her room, and Kasper shares with Wes who, at 18-years-old, still has bunk beds. The frame takes up an entire wall of his room considering how tall he is, but she can’t say it’s not pretty awesome. After everyone washes and changes into pajamas, she kisses both her boys good night before heading through the connecting bathroom to her room. Eliza’s curled up on her mattress with Taisce snuffling sleepily at her nose. She sneaks a quick picture with her phone, and the snap of the camera draws her sister’s attention.

“You’ve got so much talking to do,” she says when Darcy climbs into bed next to her.

“I know. Tomorrow, okay? I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.”

With her puppy and her sister next to her and both her brothers next door, Darcy closes her eyes and settles into her pillow.

She dreams of being held.

It’s the most restful sleep she’s had in months.