#i . really want to go psych ward. quite badly. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

victoria-daydreams · 3 years

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Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Ten: Old Wounds

AN: I really don’t know what to say here, other than enjoy!

Word Count: 4.3k

Trigger Warnings: unhealthy coping mechanisms?

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Eleven: Bottled Up

"Claudia," Erik called. "I'm bored,"

We were sitting in Central Park where I sat on a bench enjoying the fall season of New York. The sound of children playing freely with their parents was all around me, and I couldn't help but to wish that was the childhood I had. So carefree, so normal.

"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked, too immersed in my reading to look up.

"I'd figured that maybe you would entertain me," Erik suggested.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled before I continued my reading, switching from both hands holding the novel to my left hand holding it open as I bit the nail of my right thumb.

"If you wanted entertainment, you should have stayed with Moira and Charles to watch the musicians playing," I reminded dryly, finally looking up from my book and turning my head to follow the sound violins being played beautifully.

They played Bach and Handel, then they moved to Mozart, and then they played some pieces that I was unable to identify, possibly compositions of their own. Their fingers moved as if they were dancing over the necks of the violins, the notes filled the air. The sound of high pitched laughter broke the daze I had gone into and my eyes darted to the source of it. A smile graced my lips as I watched a group of children playing tag with each other.

Erik followed my gaze, "How you ever thought about it?" he asked, looking over at me.

"Thought about what?" I asked back, turning my head to him.

"Having children of your own?"

"Maybe," I answered, slightly shrugging my shoulders. "If the world wasn't so cruel," I continued, sighing heavily. "I wouldn't want to raise my child in an environment that hates them the moment they're born," I added, shaking my head. "What about you? Do you want children?" I questioned, closing my copy of The Great Gatsby.

"I do," Erik answered, and I raised my eyebrows in shock.

"Boy or girl?" I asked again, turning my body to face him.

"Girl,"

"Aww, who knew that someone like Erik Lehnsherr would want a little baby girl," I teased, a smile on my face and Erik just rolled his eyes at me. "She'll be in good hands and well taken care of, she'll have a better childhood than the both of us," I proposed, nodding my head with a grin.

We sat in silence for a moment, Erik, I could feel him watching me, but I was too preoccupied by staring off into space, chewing on my bottom lip. Thinking of what could have been with my own family.

"Bombing aside," Erik began pulling me back to reality. "Did you have a happy childhood?" he asked, draping his arm over the back of the park bench, his body now facing my own.

"Bombing aside," I repeated, cocking my head to the side. "I would say I had a decent childhood," I corrected. "Until I was seven," I remembered, my hand closing and forming a fist.

"What happened when you were seven?"

"I found out that I was different from most kids," I stated quietly, a tight-lipped smile appearing on my face.

A high pitched squeal escaped from my mouth as I kicked the ball back to my dad before I ran around our small backyard the grass tickling my feet. A wide smile on my face as my bare feet hit the cool green surface, my toes digging into the earth. A bright yellow spot caught my eye, surrounded by a sea of green grass. I forced myself to slow down and stopped at the yellow dot, bending down I realized it was a dandelion. My grin grew wider and I snatched it from the ground, raising up from the ground I turned to the back porch where my mom and grandma were residing.

"Mama, look!" I yelled, proudly displaying my dandelion.

Mama lifted her head up from the sleeping of bundle of my sister and smiled at me, "That's so pretty, Claudia!" Mama cheered, and I nodded my head vigorously in agreement.

"Claudia watch out!" Daddy shouted.

I turned my head immediately to the sound of his voice and the ball we had been kicking was on a straight path to my face. I let out a shriek and threw my hands out to protect myself. And just like that, it seemed like time froze. I peeked behind my raised arms and gasped, the ball hadn't hit me, instead the ball was suspended in midair surrounded in a pretty shade of violet. Confused, I lowered my arms and was shocked to see the ball slowly coming closer to the ground as I moved my arms down; I was controlling whatever force held it. I lowered the ball to the ground gently, before releasing the force around the ball.

"Mama, Daddy! Did you see what I did?" I asked excitedly.

No one answered me. It was dead quiet and I swallowed nervously, as I looked at my parents and Grandma. Mama had her hand covering her mouth and her eyes were wide open, filling up with tears. Seconds later Daddy was at my side. Grandma got to her knees, before clasping her hands together and began praying quietly.

"Claudia, what did you do?" Mama asked, in the most frightened tone I had ever heard her use.

"I knew my parents were horrified, even my father, although he never let it show. I mean why wouldn't he be. What I could do...it wasn't exactly normal behavior," I recalled, a mirthless laugh escaping my mouth.

"They didn't disown you, I hope?" Erik asked, a frown appearing on his face.

"Luckily, they didn't. Could you imagine throwing your seven year-old daughter out the house?" I speculated, knitting my eyebrows together. "That would be horrific!" I exclaimed.

"What did your parents do after witnessing your ability? How did they react?" Erik questioned.

"They told me they loved me regardless..." I trailed off.

Daddy knelt down in front of me and grasped my small shoulders, inspecting me closely, "Claudia…sweetheart…Mama and I want you to stay quiet about this. Alright?"

I frowned at what Daddy asked, "But why? It's amazing and so pretty!"

Mama knelt down beside Daddy and gave me a small, sad smile, "Yes, it is. But you have to understand something...sometimes...people get scared of things they don't understand," Mama explained gently.

I tilted my head to the side as I processed what Mama just said, "Why would people be scared?"

"That's hard to explain, honey. Personally...we don't know of anyone that has a...gift...like you do. If you showed others, they may react badly to it and they might hurt you," Mama tried to further explain to me.

I looked down at the ground. I had noticed Mama's hesitation about using the word gift. It made me wonder. "Are you scared of me now?"

At my question, both Mama and Daddy embraced me tightly. "No. No we're not," Daddy said with conviction.

"But you didn't believe them, did you?"

"You know what? I did actually. It was what my Grandma said that made questioned my parents true feelings about my mutation," I admitted.

"What did she say?"

"She told me that one day there will be a cure for me," I spat, recalling my Grandma's words. "I thought that would be the worst thing she would say to me, but oh how wrong I was," I went on, shaking my head.

"I take it you developed your empathic powers soon after," Erik guessed.

I nodded, "Two weeks had barely passed after my telekinetic incident, when I started to get these horrible headaches," I explained, my expression darkening. "That's when I began to pick up on emotions that weren't mine. I had told my parent's that I could feel their emotions as they passed through their minds. Of course, at first, they assumed I was playing around but after proving my talent to them both, they were shaken," I added.

I shook my head again, thinking back to how it had taken my family quite a while to get used to my empathy. To realize that a pain in your chest caused by the anguish that suddenly rose from no where was not your own, but someone else's. It was a violation in a way, and one that made my family hesitant to be near me.

"My grandma turned completely hostile toward me. In an attempt to get rid of me, my grandma suggested that they send me to psych ward because I was having a a mental breakdown," I stated, crinkling my noise in disgust while shaking my head. "God Erik, why did you ruin this beautiful day by making me recall my childhood," I groaned, running hand through my hair. "Now I actually need some entertainment," I mentioned, standing up from the wooden bench and walking away from him.

"Claudia, wait," Erik called, and I could hear his footsteps jogging behind me. "Come on, you know that was never my intention," he reasoned, falling in line with my stride.

Sighing, I looked over at him and nodded my head, "I know," I agreed. "You know I can be over dramatic," I breathed, my lips quirking up into a small smile.

A cool breeze blew through the trees of Central Park, bringing with it a flurry of freshly fallen leaves which stood a stark contrast to flocks of lively birds making their way steadily northward. My eyes scanned my surroundings, people were about the park as always, going about their business as only New Yorkers truly could.

"Erik," I began, sliding my book into my coat pocket. "Do you think I'm going crazy?" I asked randomly, facing him again

He cocked an eyebrow and laughed, "What? No," Erik answered, shaking his head with a smile. "I haven't seen one sign that you're losing your mind," he continued, his smile widening. "A strange question to ask Claudia, I have to say," Erik stated, with a chuckle.

I shrugged, "I have a feeling that Charles thinks I'm going crazy," I theorized, interlocking my fingers together behind my back.

"Don't be ridiculous Claudia," Erik grinned. "What would ever make you think that?" he inquired, letting out a hearty laugh.

"Why else do you think we took this impromptu trip here?" I pointed out, unlinking my fingers and sticking my hand in front of me. "He means wells, but all because I was distant two days ago, he's been like a mother hen," I complained, beginning to fiddle with the amber charm of my necklace. "Always watching me from over my shoulder and monitoring me. I haven't been able to really use my empathic powers because all Charles wants to do is focus on my telekinesis," I finished, a slight scowl appearing on my face.

"Here's a crazy thought, maybe he's just worried about you, Claudia," Erik replied sarcastically. "You have been a lot training these past two days, one would say too hard. You're not eating a lot, I noticed that you're up later than you usually are," he listed, ticking them off with his fingers. "Not to mention your temper has been shorter than usual," Erik remembered.

"I am not up late," I argued, knowing that the dark circles underneath my eyes I hid beneath my makeup showed all of the signs of restless night's sleep. "Nor have I been short of temper lately," I insisted, crossing my arms together.

"You cut your lights off at 11:00 pm on the dot every night. Recently, your lights have been on up until 1:00 am," Erik deadpanned, giving me a knowing look and my brow rose. "Yes, I've noticed that," he added, answering my silent question.

I really couldn't help myself from asking, "Oh, so you notice things about me?" I questioned grinning. "Because usually I have to tell you when you should look for something," I added, still grinning.

Erik rolled his eyes and laughed, "I notice things about everyone," he replied, and then looked at me slyly. "But I maybe paying some...extra attention to you,"

We proceeded down the walkway not sure where I wanted to go, but I wanted to be somewhere. I came across one of the many fountains in Central Park and lowered my hand into the water and ran the tips of my fingers over it. A thought crossed my mind and I lifted my hand, flicking water at Erik and drew back from the onslaught of the water droplets.

"You're such a child," Erik commented, his lips curving into a smile as he went to grab for my hand which I easily spun away from.

"I try to be," I smiled back.

I moved off the cement path and walked onto the seemingly endless lawn of the park. I made my way further onto the grass until we come near a thick grove of oak trees interspersed with some hearty pines. There were people spread out all over the field of all sorts, around the clearing's edges parents watched their children idly. Women read magazines or gossiped with one another while men ate their lunches or smoked amongst the trees, college students were laid on picnic blankets or throwing a football around.

Sticking my hand out I began to trace the rough bark of the tree next to me, beginning to walk in a circle. I closed my eyes and let my hand guide me around the tree, circling the tree twice in blissful content.

"May I ask what you're doing?" Erik asked, stopping me in my tracks and I opened my eyes, he was standing next to me, an amused expression painted on his face.

I glanced at him and smirked, "Whatever I want I suppose," I answered, continuing on my path around the tree.

Erik began to circle the tree as well only he went the opposite way, "And what is it that you want Miss Walker?" he inquired.

"I'm in need of some entertainment, just like you," I answered, turning around to meet Erik in front of the tree. He abruptly stopped once he saw me, our fingers brushed together momentarily before I leaned my back against the tree, looking at him with a mischievous grin.

"What are you about to do?"

"That man can't remember if it's his wife's birthday or their anniversary," I informed, still grinning.

I pointed to a bald middle-aged man who walked to the right of us with a confused, thoughtful look on his face.

Erik continued to look at me confused, "What?"

I slid my hands into my coat pockets jut as another gust of the autumn breeze swept past me, causing me to shiver and sigh contentedly as it ruffled my dark hair. I closed my eyes for a split second before opening them.

"That woman, over there? Found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her. Nice right hook, that one," I commented smirking, before shifting gaze away from the woman. "And that man..." I trailed off, as he happened to look back to where we were.

He was a tall, young man probably the same age I was, his blond hair was tousled most likely from the breeze which framed his blue eyes along with his square jaw. He shot me a wonky grin and I just smirked and wiggled my fingers giving him a small wave as I stared into his eyes, scrapping what I had originally planned to do and formulating a new way to have some fun.

"What are you doing?" Erik murmured from beside me.

"Just watch,"

Suddenly, the football he had been previously throwing came sailing back towards him and striking him on the back of the head. The man flinched and let out a groan of pain, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey man, what the hell!" he exclaimed. His friend glanced over at me, seeing that I'm the reason why the blond-haired man didn't see the football coming. "Are you blind? Why didn't you hold the ball?" he asked angrily, storming over to his friend.

"Relax Aaron," the friend snickered. "Stop ogling at a girl and pay attention next time," he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

"You've got a problem, Luke?" Aaron asked, getting up in his friend's face.

"No, I think you have a problem," Luke said, shoving Aaron away from him.

I turned my head to Erik, "Are you entertained?" I asked grinning proudly, and Erik let out a short laugh.

I suddenly became aware of another presence near me and my head turned and gazed up at Charles.

"There you two are, everyone was wondering where you had gone off to," Charles greeted, a relieved smile on his face. "What are you two doing?" he asked curiously, his eyes bouncing between Erik and I.

"Oh, we're just watching a bit of entertainment," I answered, a smirk on my face. "Right Erik?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"That would be correct," Erik confirmed.

Charles looked over at me and followed my gaze, watching the shoving match between the two men.

"Oh my God, Claudia please don't tell me this is your doing?" Charles questioned, his eyes back on me now.

I turned my head to Charles, his was mouth set in a firm grimace, "What can I say? We were bored," I explained nonchalantly, with a shrug.

"That's enough Claudia, you've had your fun now," Charles declared.

"Hold on Charles, I think she's onto something," Erik disagreed, raising his index finger up. "No one is even paying attention to them," Erik pointed out.

"I'll never not be amazed with my powers," I remarked, looking around at people going about their day not noticing the fight happening in front of their eyes. "A little inducement of calmness works wonders," I mused, folding my arms together.

Within a blink of the eye, Aaron swung his fist out and it connected with Luke's face, sending him to the ground.

"Hell of a right hook," I observed, as Aaron got on top of Luke to continue his pummeling.

"Claudia!"

"You know Erik, I once made a man punch himself," I informed, glancing over at him. "One night I had this drunk customer screaming in my face, and I grew angry enough that I imagined punching him, and he somehow punched himself," I recounted, thinking back to my diner job as a teenager.

"Impressive," Erik chuckled.

"You should see what happens when I sing, with my power," I boasted, walking ahead a little bit to get a closer look at the two men on the ground.

I went to take another step forward, but hand held me back, keeping a tight hold onto my wrist. I looked back to see who the culprit was just as the wind gently ruffled my hair as I met the stern stare of a dreamy blue-eyed familiar face.

"Claudia, stop it," Charles demanded, his voice dropping an octave.

Sighing, I finally gave in, "Fine," I agreed, turning my head back to the men and restored their peaceful state of mind.

Charles glanced at Erik and I for a moment, and we all share a look.

"Let's go," Charles ordered.

~~~x~~~

"Hey, do you know what's wrong with Charles?" Raven asked, as she pushed the barbell up and back onto the rack. "He's been upset ever since we came back from the park," she commented, maneuvering her way from under the bar and sitting up.

I paused mid crunch and relaxed, looking between my legs to look at Raven, "Yes," I answered, sitting up and hugging my knees. "I'm the reason he's upset," I confessed, and Raven's eyes widened. "I did something that made Charles quite upset," I explained, pushing away the fly-away hairs escaping my bun.

Raven crossed her arms and wandered over to me, "Claudia Walker making Charles Xavier mad, I never thought that I'd see the day," Raven quipped, before sticking her hand out to help me up.

"Neither did I," I stated, shaking my head.

"I wouldn't worry, Charles can't stay mad at you. He likes you too much," Raven reminded with a giggle, as I grabbed her hand and she pulled me up.

The sudden motion made me feel dizzy, I slowly walked over to the towel basket and plucked one out, "I don't know Raven, he seemed pretty upset," I doubted, dabbing the cloth against my face and closed my eyes trying to stabilize myself.

"What did you do?" she asked curiously.

Opening my eyes as my vision had stopped spinning, I removed the towel from my face, "I made these two men fight for entertainment," I explained, and Raven’s brows raised. "Erik and I wanted entertainment, we had gotten bored at the park," I continued, beginning to leave the room. "Do you know where I can Charles? I should probably go make things right," I added.

"In the library, most likely. Where else would he be?" Raven joked, and I nodded my head in agreement and laughed before exiting the gym.

I wrapped the towel around my neck and made way down the hall admiring the paintings on the wall as I headed to the library. The door to the library was cracked, slowly pushing it open revealed Charles standing in front of the window. I walked quietly into the room but he didn't turn around, he simply waited for whoever had entered to speak first. Out of the corner of Charles' eye he saw me move to stand beside him, still not saying a word.

At last, I broke the silence, "It's clear that you're upset with me," I began, searching his face for a reaction, but there wasn't one.

"How about disappointed?" he corrected, still looking out the window. I turned to look at him again and I was surprised to find his face free of anger, his face was calm. "You could have seriously injured those men Claudia. Worst, you could have killed them," Charles stated grimly, staring at me.

Backing away from where Charles stood, I sat down on top of the sofa, "Oh, come on, I wouldn't have let it get to that point," I answered, crossing my arms and returning Charles' stare.

He turned all the way around to face me, "It should have never happened in the first place!" Charles argued, slightly raising his voice. "Why on God's green earth would make those men fight?" he questioned, throwing his hands up.

"For fun, I suppose," I answered, with a slight shrug.

Charles scoffed, "That's your definition of fun? he asked incredulously.

"Fun is interpreted differently from person to person," I countered.

"No, I don't believe that's the whole story. I have never seen use your powers so irresponsibly. What is going on with you?" Charles asked again, walking towards me.

I pushed off the sofa, "You have been mother henning me for two days straight and I'm at my wits end here! I needed a release!" I snapped, spreading my arms out. "I'm not myself for one day, and for two days you have constantly been over my shoulder like I'm some fragile-" I continued pointing my finger, until another wave of dizziness me, this time stronger than before.

I felt myself falling as my vision slightly darkened, but a pair of arms caught me before I fell to the floor.

"Hey, I got you, I got you," Charles repeated softly, my head leaning against his chest. He lowered us to the ground slowly, "I'm going to pick you up, alright," he announced, before hooking his arms underneath my legs and slowly lifting me up. He walked over to the front of the sofa and placed me down onto the plush cushions. "Good thing I've been a mother hen, right?" Charles asked smiling, his hand brushing away a stray lock of hair from my face.

"I guess it paid off in the end," I conceded, smiling weakly as Charles sat on the edge of the sofa.

He placed the back of his hand against my forehead and frowned, "Claudia, you're burning up," he noted, removing his hand. "I knew you were pushing yourself too hard these past two days," he continued, placing each of his hands down on the cushions on either side of my waist. "Why didn't you tell me, love?" Charles asked quietly.

He was tense, his hands were clenched into fist by my side, I lifted my arm and soothingly rubbed his arm and felt the muscles in his arm slowly release some of their tension. His blue eyes met mine and he relaxed a little more.

"I thought I could push through it, I've done it before," I explained, giving him a small smile in an attempt to make him feel more at ease. "I really didn't want you to start smothering me anymore," I added, a short laugh erupting from me.

Charles shook his head gazing down at me with worried eyes, "Yes, and look where it's gotten you right now," he remarked, shaking his head once more. "You are so guarded at times Claudia, you've got to learn that not everyone wants to hurt you. I want to help you, I truly do. But I can't do anything unless you can accept that," Charles stated.

I was shocked by his bluntness and stared at him in shock, being quiet for several moments and looking away. When I didn't answer, Charles reached for my hand and held my hand in his.

"Do you trust me Claudia?" Charles asked softly.

It was such a simple question, yet I knew it meant a lot more to Charles...and myself. I stared up at him saw the genuine concern written across his features, and knew that what he told me was true.

"You're the first person I have trusted in years, Charles," I admitted softly.

The telepath gave me the most adorable, beautiful grin of relief, "I'm honored," Charles answered, and lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the palm of it. The simple gesture made my stomach flip. "Let's get you some rest, yeah?" he suggested, nodding his head toward the door.

Chapter Twelve: What Are These Feelings?

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier fanfiction #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #erik lehnsherr x oc #black!reader #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years

Text

In Tatters: Four

“Welcome Back to Chainmail Crop tops, Today’s Table Top Adventure is brought to you by Skillshare-” Your voice is cheerful, and it reminds Bucky off the ad breaks for Radio dramas. He catches Steve’s eye and snorts.

They’d practically begged to watch you record something. Usually, you worked in your apartment. In the second bedroom that served as studio space for most of the podcasts and youtube series, you did when you weren’t writing or editing for someone else. Currently, there were 6 people crowded around a card table in varying degrees of pajamas. You were, probably, the most comfortable in a sloth onesie that had little felt claws that flopped over your fingers.

Steve and Bucky weren’t quite sure what they expected, but it certainly wasn’t this, and they were enjoying it immensely. Like they’d enjoyed everything else that had gone on around them in the last few weeks. You’d forced a friend to watch CATS the movie with you. You’d reviewed a classic film. You did part of a video series breaking down Marxist theory using, of all things, Barbie Movies.

It was insanity. Utter insanity. But it was fun.

You made people laugh. You made them laugh. And by the time taping wrapped on that podcast, their sides had hurt from laughing so hard.

“Ugh,” you groan, flopping facefirst on the couch, cheek resting on your arm as an arm and a leg dangle off the cushions.

“What’s the matter, doll?” Bucky asked, padding over and lifting the hood of your sloth outfit back so he could see your face.

“My head hurts,” you tell him.

Bucky frowned and kissed your temple, going to get a glass of water and some Tylenol. Headaches, Bucky had learned, were the shorthand you used for a lot off discomfort that made other people uncomfortable when you talked about it. Depression. Anxiety. Whatever another way, your brain could twist itself into knots. He didn’t doubt your head hurt. It was a small room, and things could get loud. But he doubted that was the only wrong thing.

Steve tilted his head and watched you struggle to sit upright again to drink the water and take the pills Bucky handed you, ‘You hungry?” he asked, just generally. Bucky was always hungry. With you, it was hit or miss. When you shrug, and Bucky nods, he smiles a little, “I’ll order pizza,” he said, “Y/N looks too cozy to make her put on clothes.”

When you smile a little and lean against Bucky’s side, Steve feels his heart flutter. You don’t even flinch when his metal arm tightens gently around you and shifts you closer. And he knows it makes Bucky feel good when you don’t. He’d been worried about it, how you’d react when he took his gloves off. Or didn’t wear sleeves. But you hadn’t flinched, you’d laced your fingers through his the way you had before and kissed his cheek.

“Definitely too cozy to go outside,” Bucky said, snuggling you closer, relishing the way you fussed at him for tickling you.

Steve chuckled, and half turned, scrolling through his phone to find the app he used to order pizza. He liked apps. They meant he didn’t have to talk on the phone. At least not as much. And while he waited, he looked at the pictures that lined the shelf. One caught his eye. It was a group picture. You and a bunch of other people dressed for some sort of event. One that required matching purple t-shirts. A pretty girl was kissing your cheek, and it doesn’t escape his notice that she’s wearing a ring on the third finger of her left hand.

“Hey Y/N,” he said, picking it up and half turning, “What’s this from?”

You turn your head, and Steve watches several emotions flit across your face for a second. “Oh-” you say, taking a deep breath, “That’s from when I took my Fiance to California... We went to Disney for her birthday.”

“Fiance?” Bucky asked, not accusatory, just curious.

“Yeah- Passion,” you answer. “I- yeah. That ended badly.” You don’t really know how to talk about that. Getting your diagnosis as Bipolar. The cheating. The lying when she said she was breaking up with you because you were ‘just too much’ while it was really because she already had a new girlfriend. You hadn’t handled it well. At all.

“How badly?” Steve asked, sensing a story.

“Wound up in a psych ward for a couple days after I stopped taking my meds, badly,” you tell them, not looking at either one of them.

They both winced reflexively. Not in disapproval but at the tone of your voice. Like you’re waiting for them to be mad at you. Steve puts the picture back on the shelf carefully and comes to sit on your other side. They both want to ask. They want to know how things had gotten that bad. They knew about your medication. That you took it, and... thanks to google, more or less what it was for. They’d asked what you took. And looked it up. Not because they were judging you, bot out of concern for your safety, really. It was things they didn’t know were medications.

“Sorry,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around your knees.

“What for?” Bucky laughed, “We got 100 years of history together... there’s no way we’ve told you everything. And it’s not like you could just casually bring up being hospitalized after a bad break up.” He kissed your head, and he and Steve wrap their arms around you gently.

“It’s true,” Steve said, kissing your jaw, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You sigh, “I just don’t know where to start.”

“Wherever you want,” Steve answered, “We’ll catch up. We’re old, not slow.”

You nod and tilt your head back to look up at the ceiling. “I guess it started when I had that first manic phase. Like. No impulse control. Straight lost my shit for a minute and wound up on the psych ward because Pash thought I was gonna kill myself or something.”

They stay close, listening and Bucky makes a soft sympathetic noise, “I didn’t know what was happening... Stuff had happened before but. Not like this. It was scary. And getting a diagnosis was kind of a relief... It told me that there really was something wrong. And that it could be managed. And it was fine. Until it wasn’t.”

You break off and take a deep breath, “Look. Long Story Short, Pash had been done with my shit for a while... and she was looking for an out. It didn’t take very long for her to find one. So she cheated on me for a while and waited until she could reasonably tell me “I just can’t handle this” and leave without looking like “the bad guy.” You know you’re leaving some details out. The fights and stuff. The people you’d caught her cheating with after your meds had tanked your sex drive for a little bit. The money she’d stolen from you and gaslighted you into believing you’d spent. They don’t need to know that. And you don’t really want to talk about it.

Steve and Bucky exchange looks over your head. Suddenly a lot of things made sense. They’d been letting you set the pace of the relationship. The number of dates, the amount of time they spent with you. How much intimacy there was. And they’d felt like you were holding back. Hesitating. They’d thought it was reticence about being a “unicorn” of sorts again. But the piece about your last relationship and being cheated on made things make a lot more sense.

“Sweetheart,” Steve says softly, “I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “I mean. It’s been a year. She and this other girl are happy I guess. And that’s cool.”

“You deserve to be happy,” Bucky said, tilting your chin up carefully, “You believe that, don’t you?”

“Sometimes,” you answer, smiling a little, “Mostly when I’m with you two dorks.”

“Dorks?” Steve said, mock offended. “Who you callin’ a dork, ya nerd?”

You shrug, “I mean. I did film studies and art history in college... I basically majored in ‘nerd’. So... I’d say I’m a pretty good judge of dorks.”

“You’re running off at the mouth again, Darlin’,” Bucky rumbled, kissing down your neck softly.

Steve smirks when your breath hitches and watches fondly. Bucky’s always had a gift for finding buttons to push and it’s honestly a joy for him to watch as he handily chases your train of thought out of your head.

“Let us take care of you, huh?” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple.

You whimper in need and Steve grins, reaching for the buttons on your jammies, “So snuggly, Buck. So soft and cute.”

“She is,” he agrees, leaving your neck alone and letting Steve pull you against his chest. “But I gotta say Stevie,” he teased, grinning when your face heats, “getting all three of us in her little bed is gonna be a trick.”

“We’ll make it work,” Steve said, kissing you slowly, “We gotta. Because we gotta show our girl a good time.”

“How good a time?” you ask breathlessly.

“Baby,” Bucky drawls, throwing you over his shoulder, chuckling when you yelp in surprise, “You’re gonna see stars.”

tags:

@past-perfect-future-tense, @lookinsidemyhead, @rinkashirikitateku, @dumbubblegum

#stucky #stucky x reader #Steve Rogers #bucky barnes #fluff #smut #past relationship mentioned #mental illness #past trauma #hurt/comfort

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Free As I’ll Ever Be (Five)

Holy long break between chapters, sorry about that! Welcome back to the story though, our boys finally get Some Things Said.

MASTERLIST HERE

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

Mickey couldn’t text all the time. A contraband cell phone was a sure way to get in trouble if the guards were feeling particularly tough that day or if his bitchy cell mate decided to make a ruckus. He had to wait until the middle of the night, or a quiet minute during the day for a little bit of privacy just to power the thing on and send a quick message and Ian understood—

—okay Ian didn’t understand, he didn’t understand why life was so fucking unfair that the one time he and Mickey were actually communicating it was from behind bars and at random times. He didn’t understand that at all.

But he understood that Mickey was trying and that made the wait worth it. So he kept his phone on all the time and checked every message immediately just in case, and in the between time he kept right on writing letters.

—Mick,

—Maybe we should start over. Not talk about what happened but like… about normal things. Regular things that regular couples talking about and fuck, I know we weren’t ever regular or normal ( is anyone from the south side either of those things) but I don’t want every time we write to each other to be angry and emotional and…. and awful.

— Maybe we just talk about normal things.

Sometimes their letters were long as Ian talked about his family, about Fiona and her weird not-quite-marriage to Gus and then how quickly she’d fallen in with Sean, about Debbie and the pregnancy and Frank’s odd obsession with suddenly supporting her. Lip and college falling apart and his drinking, Carl-- whatever the hell Carl was doing-- and Liam who Ian was sure couldn’t do anything wrong, and god fuckin’ help the kid if he ended up like any of them.

He talked about his slow start to being a paramedic and how it made him feel less crazy, less useless, to be helping people and when he skipped over the moment where his boss found out about his disorder and nearly fired him, Ian also skipped over the part about Caleb.

Nothing had happened yet and the way Caleb had pulled back the other night sure made it seem like nothing was going to happen soon, so Ian didn’t see any reason to bring it up.

It wasn’t like he was cheating on Mickey, right? They weren’t dating and they certainly weren’t together with Mickey locked up and Ian had a right to date around if he wanted…

...it still felt weird, so he didn’t mention Caleb.

Or his disorder.

Or anything that might take the conversation beyond the level of casual.

It was probably easier this way for Mickey too, easier to start over and pretend like they didn’t have years of trauma between the two of them, right?

-- This is weird, but I realized the other day I don’t know what your favorite color is. All the time we spent together and I never asked. It sort of made me wonder what else I don’t know about you. What’s your favorite food? TV Show? We should do twenty questions and find out all the shit about each other normal neighbors and friends would know.

Sometimes Mickey’s hand shook when he wrote Ian back, the effort of holding back all the things he was finally ready to say making his fingers tremble. Ian wanted to keep things casual, wanted to start over, wanted to put up distance between them even now, even after everything and it didn’t seem real fuckin’ fair and Mickey shook with trying to keep it all inside.

Twenty questions? Ian wanted to play twenty fucking questions like he hadn’t already seen Mickey turned inside out and desperate to get to him. What the hell did his favorite color matter when he thought his damn heart would beat out of his chest every time he turned on the phone and saw Ian’s name waiting there in a message? Who the hell cared what show he liked or whether or not spy movies were better than military movies?

Mickey didn’t fucking care but he clenched his teeth and tightened his jaw and wrote back answers to each one of Ian’s inane questions because none of it mattered but Ian was still talking to him and maybe it was pathetic to want it so badly, but Mickey did and that was all there was to it.

Besides, maybe it felt a little bit nice to read about the Gallagher chaos. The family was bat shit crazy but they were still family and wound through Ian’s complaints about Lip or issues with Debbie’s willingness to be a fifteen year old mom was love and acceptance for his sibling’s shenanigans, a level of understanding that Mickey had only had briefly from Mandy and never from anyone else sharing the name Milkovich.

-- Favorite color is blue. And then alien red and fucking green. Probably black, I dunno.

Ian used the letters like a journal sometimes, listing out his day and his week and Mickey read those ones over and over cos it made him feel a little bit closer, a little more connected. Maybe it helped Ian remember his day better, maybe it helped him feel steady like his mind wasn’t slipping, maybe it was just because he really didn’t have anything else to say, but either way Mickey read them over and over and over.

And over and over and over every single bland fact hurt because Mickey had lain his entire heart out there for Ian to trample over… and the redhead still found it so easy to start over and talk about normal things.

Normal things.

As if anything ever in Mickey’s life had ever been fucking normal.

It didn’t seem real normal that when Mickey was finally ready to say everything he wanted to say, when he was safe enough to admit the things he hadn’t even able to whisper in the dark--

--the person he wanted to say them to didn’t want to hear it.

That didn’t seem real normal at all.

From Ian: You crossed out a lot in the last letter.

From Ian: Thanks. Dunno if I can handle talking about all that. I know we have to talk about Svetlana and your dad and me going fucking crazy eventually, but I can’t do it yet.

From Ian: So thanks for crossing it out.

And like an absolute fucking idiot because even now Mickey would do anything for him:

From Mickey: No worries. Don’t want to talk about it anyway.

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

It was a bad week, Mickey could tell from Ian’s more recent letter so it wasn’t a surprise when he turned on his phone one night and found a bunch of texts waiting.

From Ian: Why didn’t you love me back then.

From Ian: I don’t want you to love me now, not when I’m not who I was last year or the year before or who I was my entire fucking life. I don’t want you to love me now I wanted you to love me then, why didn’t you love me then.

From Ian: I needed you and you pushed me away

From Ian: All the damn time. Couldn’t be seen with me, didn’t want to be seen with me, wouldn’t let me kiss you

From Ian: At fifteen I would have done anything for you to just smile at me for some reason other than I just got you off. Why the hell couldn’t you give me anything.

From Ian: Why didn’t you love me?

Mickey took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes. A quick check of the time stamp proved the messages had been sent hours ago which meant Ian was either feeling better again and didn’t want to talk, or was still spiraling over whatever had set him off.

He probably could have turned the phone back off and gone to sleep, written Ian a letter back and acted like the texts hadn’t happened but-- why didn’t you love me-- burned into his eyes and made his throat tighten up in sadness and maybe even anger and Mickey was texting back before he stopped himself, fingers flying over the keys and hitting send before he could convince himself not to write it.

Ian had asked if they talk about normal things, but then he goes and dumps this at Mickey’s feet and all over his heart?

No fucking way.

From Mickey: You’re bein’ real fucking stupid if you think I didn’t love you back then.

From Ian: Am I?

From Mickey: Real fucking stupid, Gallagher. Back off.

From Ian: Fiona says everyone could see how much you loved me, but it sure wasn’t obvious to me. Fuck Mickey, you told me you’d cut my tongue out if I tried to kiss you.

From Mickey: THE FIRST TIME.

From Mickey: and not wanting to be kissed up doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I just didn’t like to be kissed.

From Ian: You threatened to send me to the psych ward! Told me I was going to the hospital even if you had to send me to the ER for it.

From Mickey: I’d break your fucking leg myself before I let you run around sick and hurting like that. Fuck off.

The phone stayed dark for a long time, long enough that Mickey assumed Ian had fallen asleep, or pitched the phone out the window or decided the conversation wasn’t worth finishing.

And it wasn’t worth finishing, was it? Ian had been pretty clear about not wanting to talk about this sort of stuff but damn it the asshole had brought it up first, it would be a shitty move on his part to just ditch.

...shitty, but Mickey wouldn’t put it past him. He knew full well how much easier it was to say ‘fuck off’ and walk away instead of dealing with anything real.

But then--

From Ian: Was that supposed to be romantic? Telling me you’d break my leg to keep me from running around sick?

From Mickey: It’s supposed to be proof that I fucking love your skinny ass

From Ian: ...

From Ian: …

From Ian: I’m not all that skinny anymore.

And Mickey laughed a little bit, rubbed at his face and wet his lips then texted back.

From Mickey: Yeah, you’re fucking gorgeous is what you are.

From Ian: You think I’m gorgeous?

From Mickey: *middle finger emoji*

From Ian: No I’m serious. All you ever called me was pasty or alien or ginger or firecrotch. You think I’m gorgeous?

From Mickey: What part of the middle finger fucking picture didn’t you get? I think you’re gorgeous, so what?

From Ian: Tell me the truth then

From Ian: You were willing to love me with everything going on. Anger issues and weird outbursts and all the medications and the depressions and then mania. You were willing to love me? You chose this mess? For real?

From Mickey: Don’t think it was a choice, Ian. I loved you. Period. Right up until you stated cheating on me.

From Ian: You didn’t love me after that?

Mickey swallowed and sat back on the bed, put the phone down on his chest so he didn’t have to stare at the light for a minute and closed his eyes.

There’d been a time he’d never told Ian about, the night before Ian had ran away with Yev when Mickey had gone to the club looking for him. One of the guys there had been all too thrilled to tell Mickey that Ian had left with someone else, that Ian had looked happy about it, that he was setting out to have a good time that night.

Mickey still remembered how it had felt to beat the shit outta that guy, he still remembered the way his eyes had stung and vision blurred because he was so angry he wanted to kill someone and he was so hurt he wanted to kill himself.

I came out for you. He’d said as he kicked the guy that wasn’t Ian, the guy that hadn’t actually done anything to deserve it. I came out for you because it had been the hardest, most honest thing Mickey had done in his entire life and Ian had went and cheated on him.

I came out for you.

From Mickey: Love means you’re loyal, Gallagher. Sposed to be fuckin’ loyal.

From Ian: I never said I loved you.

And Mickey’s heart shattered right there in his chest.

From Mickey: Yeah, I’m real fucking aware.

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

The letter came later.

-- Fuck you, Gallagher

-- You wanted me to come out, you wanted me to be your boyfriend and kiss you or whatever. You begged me to admit I loved you but you sure had no problem never saying it to me.

-- You cheated on me when we were trying to be a family. I got all domestic and all that shit and you would still rather go out and fuck old men. Figured you’d stop that once I got it together but you didn’t. Problem wasn’t me or us needing money or your fucking mess, you just didn't love me.

-- You told me you wanted me to be me, the south side fucking thug trash you fell for but what the hell does that mean? Wanna get high together and fuck? Want to get drunk and me pull down my pants enough to fit your dick and then push you away? Want me to threaten to cut your tongue out if you want a kiss?

--HOW IS ANY OF THAT BETTER THAN WHAT WE HAD

-- I finally figured out how to give you what you wanted and then you didn’t want it anymore. Didn’t want me anymore.

-- I COULDN’T EVEN GET IT UP AFTER YOU RAN OFF TO THE ARMY AND I FUCKING TRIED. I tried women, I tried redheads, finally gave in after you left with fucking Monica and tried it with some fucking fairy ass twink but it was shit. It was shit and I blamed it on the alcohol so he wouldn’t know how fucking pathetic I was.

-- I know you didn’t love me cos if you loved me it would have been real easy for you to just come home. Every time you and I were apart it was real easy for me to come right back to you cos I loved you.

-- You didn’t love me and you can’t tell me you did.

-- fuck you

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

--Mickey

-- They only had my body.

--Just my body.

--Not my heart and not my mind.

-- When I knew who I was and what the hell I was doing, I swear my heart and mind was yours

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

From Mickey: Was it my fault?

The text came an hour before sunrise and Ian rolled over in bed and squinted at the screen for a minute trying to make sense of the words.

From Ian: Was what your fault?

From Mickey: Your break. Crack. Whatever the hell happened when you left for the army. Me and Svet and the wedding and not wanting to come out. My fault. I broke you?

From Ian: What? No. No I guess the bipolar shit comes out around eighteen or nineteen anyway. I bet what happened with us didn’t make it better, but it wasn’t your fault, don’t think that.

From Mickey: Well was the dancing my fault? Made it seem like you couldn’t come to me when you got home again?

From Ian: None of it was your fault, Mick.

From Ian: The drugs were easy and the dancing was easy and I needed something easy cos everything else was too difficult. I needed to control something of my life cos it felt like I couldn't control anything.

From Mickey: Control.

From Mickey: That’s why you told me I had to suck you off whenever you wanted if I wanted you to come back to the house after Svet made you leave.

From Ian: Well I mean… it was nice to have the upper hand for once.

From Mickey: The fuck does that mean, the upper hand?

From Ian: You always had the upper hand with us. You picked where we met and when, how long it lasted and all that shit. Just once it was nice to think I caught you off guard, maybe I was making the rules.

From Mickey: Making the rules. I was trying to bring you home and you were worried about who was making the rules?

The text sat on read for a long time before Ian got the courage to answer again, swallowing past the lump of guilt and the glaring reminder that he had been so fucking blind to what Mickey had felt for so long.

From Ian: Mickey, listen

From Mickey: The last time I had the fucking upper hand was when you snuck into my room with a goddamn crow bar or some shit. I threw you on the bed and pinned you down, then you got up into me and that was the last fucking time I ever had the upper hand.

From Mickey: You think I had any control?

From Mickey: You had me fucked from day one Gallagher.

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

“Ian?” Fiona paused halfway through the bedroom door and cocked her head at him. “What are you doing? Is that my hair spray?”

“Gotta look nice today.” Ian carefully carefully combed at his hair and then smoothed his shirt down. “Gotta go see Mickey.”

“Did he ask you to come?”

“No, no of course not.” He shook his head quickly. “I’m just going to show up. I paid Svetlana to stay home so I can see Mickey instead. I have to talk to him.”

“...and tell him…?”

“I’m tired of finding out that I saw things wrong between me and Mick.” Ian said bluntly. “Yeah we were kids, yeah we were both going through shit but I keep finding out that I had no idea how he felt and it makes me mad. Now I know, now he needs to know how I feel.”

“Ian--”

“I’ve loved Mickey since I was fifteen.” he cut in and Fiona smiled a little bit. “And he thinks I didn’t, just like I didn't think he loved me. It’s bullshit is what it is, so we’re going to get it sorted out today.”

“Ian are you sure--”

“I had a bad week last week.” he interrupted again. “And I sent Mick a whole bunch of texts giving him all sorts of shit for not loving me back when I needed him, for not being there for me like I wanted. I told him I would’ve done anything for him just to smile at me for real but all he ever did was push me away. You know what he said?”

“What did he say?”

“He told me that he would never let me run around sick, that he had never had a choice in loving me, that the last time he had the upper hand in anything was the first time we hooked up.” Ian watched Fiona’s eyes widen in the mirror. “Mickey said all that. Told me he knew I didn’t love him because I cheated and that even when he tried to cheat, he couldn’t really manage it. He loves me so much and I never once told him I loved him.”

“So today I’m gonna go tell him I love him.” Ian shrugged, because it was suddenly the easiest thing in the world to say. “And that’s all there is to it.”

“Alright then, good for you.” She watched another moment. “Why are you wearing your EMT uniform though? You aren’t working today.”

“Oh.” Ian’s grin was half past ridiculous. “Mickey loves how I look in uniform.”

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

Mickey would cut a bitch before admitting it, but he was looking forward to seeing Svetlana and the baby.

Svetlana had gotten nicer after that first visit when Ian had come along, her words less cutting and her eyes a little softer every time she asked how he was doing. The baby seemed to recognize him a little bit more or that might just be cos Yev was interested in everything at this age, but his gummy smile made Mickey smile, and when Mickey smiled, so did Svet.

When the guard told him he was up for visitors, Mickey even took the chance to run some water through his hair and at least wipe his face down. He wasn’t gonna pretty up for the damn woman, but at least this way she wouldn’t make some remark about him looking like a dog she’d leave behind or whatever else she muttered in Russian.

But it wasn’t Svetlana sitting on the other side of the glass and Yevgeny wasn’t anywhere in sight, so Mickey sat down slowly, uncertainly, and picked up the phone.

“The fuck you doing here?” he asked after a minute. “Figured it was Svet and the kid.”

“Is this okay?” Christ Ian looked good up close, filling out the blue EMT ensemble in a way that brought Mickey’s uniform kink roaring back to the surface.

He’d always been a sucker for Ian in uniform.

“I thought if I asked to come see you, you’d say no. Figured sneaking in was better.” Ian raised those fucking ginger eyebrows at Mickey as if daring him to disagree. “Was I wrong?”

“Nah, I would’ve told you to fuck off.” Mickey sniffed and glanced away, hunched his shoulders a little and sniffed again. He felt open, exposed and vulnerable after admitting so much through text and letters. It was one thing to say it all under the cover of dark and another to say it face to face, under unflattering lights and through too thin glass.

It was open and sort of terrible and Mickey hated it, but this close he could see that Ian was uncomfortable too, that he was fidgety and awkward and trying to choose his words carefully and maybe that made things a little less awful.

Upper hand, huh?

“How’s the tattoo?” Ian asked then and Mickey grimaced, his hand automatically rubbing over the raised ink. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not infected anymore.” Mickey hesitated, then hesitated again and then finally tugged the collar of his shirt down so Ian could see the hand done tattoo, the scraggly letters and that fucking misspelling. “Still looks like shit. When I get outta here I’m gonna get it removed, or get it done over or something. Don’t wanna walk around with this mess on me.”

He was talking a lot, saying a lot and saying it quick, eyes darting over to the guard, down the line of prisoners, over to the clock and then down at the cracked counter, anywhere except right into Ian’s green gaze.

“It was a stupid idea.” he said more to himself than anyone. “Couldn’t even spell it right, didn’t do me any good cos you didn’t want to see--”

“It’s beautiful.” Ian blurted, and Mickey’s mouth clicked shut with an audible pop. “Fuck, Mickey. It’s beautiful.”

“... no it isn’t.” Mickey kept looking away, but then Ian murmured, “You’re beautiful.” and Mickey went very, very still.

“How have I never told you that before?” Ian was whispering now, big hand pressed flat to the window. “I never told you I loved you and I never said you’re beautiful?”

Mickey popped his knuckles, leaned away from the window and scrubbed a hand through his hair. Shook his head and cleared his throat and shook his head again and fuck what the hell was he supposed to say-- why the hell was Ian talkin’ this sorta shit--

“You didn’t break up with me after my diagnosis.”

“No.” Mickey felt like his voice was hoarse, like he could barely get the words out. “No, it took me a couple days to get my shit together but I showed up.”

“You didn’t give up on me.” Ian inched closer to the window, curled his shoulders in and held the phone tighter so he could whisper into it. “You always came back.”

“Y--yep.”

“You wanted me to stay after the wedding, never wanted me to go but just couldn’t say it.”

“What’s your fucking point, Gallagher.” Mickey didn’t mean to snap but he did anyway cos hell if he wasn’t shaking just hearing Ian say this, just knowing fucking firecrotch actually knew that he had tried back then, he’d really really tried.

“An MP put a gun on you and you still tried to get to me.”

“Yeah, yeah I did.” Mickey finally looked up, finally met Ian’s gaze head on, finally quit being a pussy and let himself listen. “What about it?”

“I love you.” Ian whispered, looking as fucking truthful as a damn alter boy. “And I’m sorry I haven’t said it until now.”

“You broke up with me.” Bitter. Savage. Mickey hunched in too, not to be close but to hide, to disappear because all the sudden he wasn’t real sure he could handle hearing this. “You broke up with me, Ian.”

“I thought I said it a bunch of different ways, but I guess I never did.”

“I told you I loved you, and you laughed in my face. Said you didn’t know what that meant.” Mickey challenged. “I said I’d take care of you and you acted like it was the dumbest thing you’d ever heard!”

“I know.” Ian nodded quickly. “I know. I’m sorry. I love you, Mick.”

“You wouldn’t-- you wouldn’t--” Fuck. “-- you wouldn’t even look at me.”

“I know.”

“I said I was free with you and you said it wasn’t enough.”

“I know.”

“Fuck you, Gallagher.”

“Yeah.” Ian smiled and it had no business looking so damn adoring. “Yeah, I know. I love you.”

Mickey had never felt so fucking fragile in his life, and every bit of self help bullshit he’d learned in the last few months disappeared in a split second when he tossed the phone down and walked away from the window, away from Ian, away from all the things he couldn’t handle Ian saying.

….guess now he understood why Ian needed to only talk about normal things, huh? Mickey didn’t realize how hard it was to hear-- to hear--

-- there was a letter on Mickey’s bunk when he got back, it must have been mail call while he was not listening to Ian and now he had something to read. But no one ever wrote him except Ian so…

-- Mickey

-- I never knew ‘fuck you’ could mean ‘i love you’ until you said it.

-- You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life

-- I love you

“I love you too.” Mickey whispered to no one, said the words quietly quietly into the cell. “You’re under my skin man, nothing I can do.”

“...nothing I can do.”

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER

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

@the-southern-sweetiepie @lele-hemmo @elliotkaingrey @castiel-beyond-and-forever @shotabear28 @onimi18 @pootie-and-the-snoots @stutteringandmumbling @girlnic @miss-macca @a-procrastinating-blogger @supmorg @layweebookfreak @eversomniator @korrababy @idontwanna-wakeuplonely @megahuffledor @pixiebomber @kit-02 @quertsod @sunflowertingzzzz @pillow-junkie

#ncts fics #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless us

32 notes · View notes

shions-heart · 5 years

Text

okay strap in boyos cuz i’ve finished my glass of wine and i’m about to go full ham on this post featuring the one and only tendou satori in my being human ‘verse

a refresher on the years/ages: at Shiratorizawa you enroll at age 13 and you are in year 1; you graduate and receive your license after your 10th year, when most are 22-23, unless you’ve been moved up due to impressive growth in your power and abilities

Ushijima graduated at age 17 and is 23 at the start of the fic. Since it takes place in/around early September, and taking into account the official birth dates, the others ages/years are as follows: Tendou, 23 (year 10); Semi, 22 (year 10); Leon, 22 (year 10); Yamagata, 21 (year 10); Shirabu, 20 (year 10); Kawanishi, 20 (year 8); Goshiki, 18 (year 8). Both Shirabu and Goshiki moved up two years due to their impressive magical growth, power, and abilities.

because i believe it is relevant to their interests, i’m tagging @pulveremcomedesligulas @emerald-psyche @akaashisstar @semdere and @xevikan15

(spoilers for The Awakening under the cut y’all know the drill)

(looooong post, tw for child abuse and neglect, PTSD, and bullying)

okay so some backstory first: we got glimpses of it in the fic but the main run down of it is

Tendou’s mom was already pregnant with him when she did her Hinokoku trial at 18. She didn’t know she was pregnant at the time and went through some really harrowing stuff that ended up breaking her mind. She passed the trial but her PTSD was so bad afterwards she could barely function. That’s when she realized she was pregnant.

She kept the baby secret as long as she could, started isolating herself when she couldn’t hide it anymore, and generally did not do well. The amount of flashbacks she had started to twist her reality to the point where she became convinced that she conceived Tendou in Hinokoku and he was, in fact, a demon spawn.

After he was born and looked human, she tried to convince herself that everything was fine, he was fine, they were both fine, but she only got worse, and the House of the White Rose were no help. When Tendou was about three years old, she petitioned the House of the White Swan to take her and her son into their coven, so she could avoid Tendou facing the Hinokoku trials. The House of the White Swan coven council agreed when they saw how desperate she was, somewhat afraid what she might do to herself or the child if they refused.

So then Tendou and his mom lived in hiding, constantly moving to avoid detection from the House of the White Rose (the punishment for defecting is losing your magic); meanwhile, Tendou’s mother grew worse. He did his best to care for her himself, but she would have days where she would call him a monster and try to attack him, convinced once more that he was demon spawn. These episodes could last a few minutes or days. Tendou became quite good at recognizing and managing her mood swings, staying upbeat and cheerful for her sake, even though her words cut through him each time.

(This is also when he became really good at Defensive Magic and wards. He had to be. His mother often threw things at him or cast spells at him when she was in this state. He had to know how to recognize the signs of an incoming attack, “guess” at where they’d be coming from and what type of attacks they’d be, and throw up wards quickly enough to block them.)

Finally, he was thirteen and old enough to enroll at Shiratorizawa. Not wanting to leave his mother on her own, he convinced her to check herself into an institution. It was one of the hardest decisions he ever made, but he knew it was for the best.

His first day at Shiratorizawa did not go well. He unwittingly sat in a seat the class bully always sat in, and didn’t move when the kid told him to (not seeing why he should when there were plenty of other seats available). The bully got angry and Tendou, “guessing” that he’d was about to be attacked, threw up a ward. The bully’s hex hit it and backfired, giving him the ears, nose, and tail of a pig. Tendou thought this was hilarious and burst out laughing his loud, unnatural cackle, which put everyone on edge. They didn’t think Tendou should’ve been able to predict an attack or put up a powerful ward so quickly. That’s when the taunts and gossip started around him being a “monster.”

It hurt, because Shiratorizawa was supposed to be a place for him to make a new start. To finally be safe in one place and make friends. But Tendou, always one to bury his true feelings behind a smile and a joke, seemed to take it in stride. He didn’t retaliate but he gave up on trying to find any friends.

That’s when he met Ushijima. The quiet boy was strong and studious and didn’t seem aware of the bully incident at all. He was so absorbed in his homework he seemed to miss a lot of what was going on around him. That made him the perfect person for Tendou to befriend, it seemed. So he did. He sat next to Ushijima and chatted at him about anything and everything. Ushijima didn’t offer much back by way of conversation, but he also didn’t treat Tendou like a monster or someone to avoid.

At least, until Ushijima moved up a year, and then another, leaving Tendou behind and not ever seeking him out or trying to contact him. Tendou was pretty sure he’d just lost his best friend, if Ushijima had ever really been his friend at all, and that hurt pretty badly too.

Enter Semi Eita.

Tendou’s entire world lit up with his arrival. Semi had always been there, of course, but had hung back, not wanting to intrude on Tendou and Ushijima’s friendship, just glad to see Tendou had made a friend because after the bully incident, Semi thought the others’ treatment of Tendou was really unfair but was unnerved enough himself to hesitate to bridge that gap.

But once he saw Tendou sitting alone again, he mustered up his courage and went to sit with him. Tendou was stunned, honestly. He already thought Semi Eita was the prettiest boy he’d ever seen, and here he was sitting with him. Talking to him. Not treating him like a monster at all! Tendou clung to that, to Semi, and even though Semi would call him annoying sometimes, he never really tried to get away from him, so Tendou knew he liked him. They were friends. And when they became roommates a couple years later, Tendou was fricking thrilled, already well on his way to falling in love with Semi.

Having Semi around gave him the courage to start reaching out to the other loners. Leon was next. Being half-black made him a target for some of the more racist students, so Tendou dragged Semi over to meet him and all three of them hit it off really well. Yamagata came after this. The poor boy was a spazz, always misplacing his things, and rather flamboyantly gay. Thus, a target. So, into the group he went!

A couple years passed before Kawanishi and Shirabu arrived. Kawanishi got put in Yamagata’s room, so naturally Yamagata brought him to their lunch table. Tendou found his deadpan humor hilarious and took his aloof nature as a challenge. He went out of his way to include Kawanishi in things and surprisingly, Kawanishi went along with it. He never became a target because they all accepted him immediately, so he didn’t have time to become a loner.

Shirabu was a tougher cookie. He wasn’t a loner because others picked on him. He isolated himself intentionally. It reminded Tendou a lot of Ushijima, actually. The others were skeptical about bringing him in because of this, but Tendou insisted that he was perfect for their group. (“what’s wrong with weird?”) He reached out to Shirabu and got cold rebuffs in return, but he never gave up on him, and after a few months Shirabu seemed to warm up to them a bit more. Tendou found out about the nightmare incident from Semi, and felt himself somewhat akin to Shirabu. He, too, suffered from nightmares for a long time. It was only after he started rooming with Semi that they became less frequent before stopping altogether (so he totally understands Shirabu’s attachment to Semi). He did everything he could to make sure Shirabu felt included and wanted and cared for, knowing first hand how awful it feels when the circumstances are the opposite.

Goshiki came two years after Shirabu and Kawanishi. He became a target because of his outburst his first day of class (declaring he’d be the best, strongest Demon Hunter ever). Tendou found his enthusiasm endearing and basically thought he was the cutest thing ever, so he wasted no time in including him in the group.

And thus his little family was complete! For six years, nobody dared to say anything to his face. He finally had a group of people around him who loved him, wanted him, cared about him. He invested a lot of time into them, individually and as a whole, coming up with ideas for hang outs, outings, “parties,” etc. He was finally happy.

Then the attacks started, and the rumor mill did as well. People grew bold again, lashing out at Tendou as they were all convinced he was the perpetrator. The word “monster” got tossed around again, and Tendou desperately tried to not let it bother him. It didn’t matter, because his friends, his family, believed in him. For a while he succeeded in suppressing those bad thoughts and feelings. He concentrated on encouraging Goshiki’s growth, on watching Yamagata’s hopeless crush on Kawanishi unfold, on wooing Semi Eita through unconventional methods, never quite bold enough to come out and say that he was in love with him (especially because he wasn’t sure if Semi would even return his feelings).

Then Ushijima came back into his life.

Now, Tendou had been following Ushijima’s career. Of course he had. He was proud of his former friend. He was inspiring and powerful; someone to look up to and emulate, at least in his Demon Hunter career. Tendou wasn’t set on becoming a Demon Hunter, but he saw the way his friends looked up to the Great Ushijima Wakatoshi and he was glad for it.

Then Ushijima arrived at the school and Tendou ran into him by chance. There he was, in the flesh: tall, strong, unbelievably handsome. Tendou was starstruck. And then he realized Ushijima didn’t recognize him. It hurt, a lot more than Tendou was expecting, and he played it off like he was just meeting him for the first time. Then of course came his scheme to help out with the investigation and get to know him again, to make up for lost time, to maybe get his friend back. And as all those warm feelings from the past came back, paired with the admiration he already had, plus the fact that Ushijima became damn attractive, it led to deeper feelings, as well.

Let me tell you, Tendou Satori suffered a lot during the events of The Awakening. Being accused of being a demon, or a half-demon, brought back a lot of terrible memories from his past with his mother. (That was why he tried to protect Shirabu once he figured out about him.) But you know? I don’t think he would go back to change a thing. Because despite all that pain and hardship, it led him to Shiratorizawa. It led him to his family.

#fic: bh #tendou satori #shiratorizawa #tensemi #ushiten #tender salami #yes i still call him that #it's hilarious #i told y'all i would make a post about tendou too #and here it is #long post #forgive the length ;;;

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supernatural---imagines · 5 years

Text

Broken (Sam Imagine)

imagine where sam is in the hospital when he is going crazy, but before hes losing his nails and seeing fire crackers from lucifer. lots of fluff and reder trying to comfort him?

Sure. Hope its ok for you. Haven’t wrote Sam in a while so this was fun.

“Where the hell is he?” Your breath was short and your face was red, you had just ran up 8 flights of stairs after running the whole way from your motel, as Dean and the car had gone a-wall. Your boyfriend was hit by a car in the early hours of the morning, and the receptionist told you he was in the psych Ward.

“Calm down miss.” The doctor put his hand out in front of him cautiously and tried to signal you to sit down, which was met by a dismissive decline.

“Where is Sam Winchester, why is he in the psych ward? Let me see him!” The doctor explained his condition to you as you paced up and down the room, pinching the bridge of your nose trying to keep it all together. He explained that a nurse would escort you to Sam but only if you calmed down.

“I’m fine, ok? Let me see him please.” You spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep your emotions at bay. The nurse led you to his room and opened the door. You stood in the door way and your heart broke into a million pieces. He was beat up, cuts and bruises. He was tired, with blood shot eyes carrying bags underneath. His hair was messy and his face unshaven. He was dressed in white scrubs, and lay down on his bed, his head gently propped up with a small pillow.

He caught you in his gaze and furrowed his brows, whilst squinting his eyes he tried to figure out if it was really you. You walked over slowly to him, as if you were trying not to startle a deer in the woods. He sat up in his bed and tried to offer a smile, but his tired face couldn’t manage it. He was a bit unsure of you as you sat down next to him. His trouble with knowing what’s real and what’s not was getting worse with his insomnia and although a few weeks ago he would have known if you were a figment of his imagination or not, today he wasn’t so sure.

“Hi baby” you spoke gently, picking up his hand softly and resting it in yours. He looked at you searching for answers, his cogs in his mind spinning a million miles per second, trying his very best to know if he could speak to you, or when he opened his mouth would you just morph into Lucifer.

“It’s me. Don’t worry.” You tried to comfort the man but god knows how many of you he had seen in the past while.

“Look.” You dragged up your sleeve to reveal a large, badly sewn up gash that you had got on a werewolf hunt two weeks ago.

“Remember I got this? That sloppy stitching is the work of Dr Dean, who I ought to sue for this mess of a scar I’m going to be left with. It’s me” you joked. Sam’s shoulders slouched down as he let out a sigh of relief, and as he decided it was ok to relax. You raised his hand that was in yours up to your lips and pressed a small kiss to it. A tear slipped out from your eye and landed on his knuckle, trickling down and dropping onto your leg.

“Hey don’t cry” he tried to comfort you. He was in hospital, had just been ran over, suffering the most intense mental issues, hasn’t slept for over a week. And he was trying to comfort you. That’s the kind of man Sam is.

“I’m just happy you’re alive baby. When I heard you got hit by a car, my god I thought the worst. I should’ve known better. As if Sam Winchester would get taken out by a car. You’ve been beat up, stabbed, shot, the whole nine. No way would a silly Prius suck the life out of you” He let out a small laugh, although the smile was wiped off his face quickly when his focus shot to the corner of the room and his face winced.

“Is he here?” You asked.

Sam nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.

“It’s ok Sam. You know this isn’t going to take you out either. I will fix this. Me and Dean will fix this for you. I promise” you swore to the defeated man. He bowed his head, strands of hair falling out from behind his ears to cover his face. He took a deep breath to compose himself before sitting back up straight to look at you.

“I don’t think there’s anything out there, y/n. We’ve all looked before” Sam had given up. He didn’t care what happened to him, if he lived or if he died. All he wanted was the torture to be over. He jumped out of his skin randomly, something to do with Lucifer pestering him again presumably. You snatched his focused back to you, and looked into his eyes.They had nothing behind them. They didn’t have the light and love that that used to, they weren’t even sad. They were just done. He was so beyond tired that his brain probably didn’t even have the capacity to feel anything anymore.

“I’m not giving up Sammy. Neither is Dean. Neither should you. This isn’t going to be the end of you. You are the strongest man I know. We will get through this together. As a team.” You squeezed his hand as you spoke. He scooted back on the bed and pulled you back with him, lying against the side of his chest that didn’t have the cracked rib.

“We don’t have much time together before they’ll kick you out, can you just lie with me?” Sam asked.

“Of course” you reached up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss, trying to avoid his busted top lip.

“I love you so much” he spoke, voice breaking as if he was saying good bye.

“I love you too. Which is why I’m never ever giving up on you.” Sam leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. His hand intertwined in your hair and the other holding one of yours. He rested his head on yours and breathed you in. Whispering every now and again that he loved you. This man was ready to die. You tried so hard to hold it together because you were not about to let him comfort you when it was your time to be there for him. You sucked it up and looked up at him, teary eyed, but not quite crying.

“Please don’t give up Sam. You’ve still got so much more to give to this world.” You begged. He answered by placing a small series of kisses on your cheek down to your lips. Which was something he always did when you needed cheering up. You smiled at him. Cuddling in closer, both of you melting into the hug that you desperately needed from one another. Your heart beats synced together as you cuddled in close. Sam jumping and wincing from time to time, queuing your comforting words to try and reassure him it’s not real, and hes OK.

“I haven’t felt so safe in a long time, thank you for being here.” He spoke with words filled with gratitude. Sam was never one to ask for comfort or a hug when he needed it, it stemmed from years of being on the road with Dean who was against sharing, and John before that who was he exact same. So when you spent time with Sam, making him feel better about anything, he was always so thankful as if you had just done him a massive favour.

“If i could be anywhere in the world I would always chose to be by your side”

“Cheesy” Sam chuckled, you nudged him playfully, careful not to hurt any of his injuries and laughed with him. You snuggled back in again and planting a small kiss on his neck before burring your face in it.

“Alright Sam, visiting time up” a nurse called through the doorway to his room, interrupting your moment. You moaned in annoyance. You both sat up and Sam walked you to the door without dropping your hand.

“Stay strong. I will find Dean and he will come by tonight. Please hang on tight”

“Bye, baby” Sam kissed you once more before you left, and as soon as you were out of his sight, and hearing range, you broke down. You pressed your back against the wall and slid down it, tears flooding out.

How the hell were you going to fix this?

#sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester one shot #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #sam winchester fanfic

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hiding-under-the-willow · 5 years

Text

Slenderverse Highschool AU Character Descriptions

Warning: Real Long Post

(I think I caught all the typos last time I read through this but honestly who knows)

Part 1, because as I have just learned, Tumblr does have a limit on the length of posts.

Slender/The Administrator

• The Principal

• No one remembers what he actually looks like because they're too distracted by the fact that he's wearing a super fancy business suit

• Seriously, what's with the suit?

• Absolutely terrifying without having to say a single word

• Alex Kralie's dad

• Stan Frederick's uncle

• Gives Alex special treatment

• His nickname has been in use so long he doesn't even bother giving out his real name to students any more. There is literally no student in the school outside of his family who knows his real name.

Alex Kralie

Junior

• Has been friends with Jay since 5th grade

• Was a pretty cool person in middle school but became a huge manipulative jerk by high school

• Has a tendency to get in fights with people, only wins about half the time

• Get's away with basically anything because of his dad

• Gets along particularly badly with Patrick, who has threatened to fight him if he ever comes anywhere near Micheal

• Was friends with Brian from childhood through Middle school but is no longer on good terms with him

• Basically hovers over Jay constantly

• Neutral in terms of his feelings on Stan, but treats him better than he does most others since they're family.

• Has probably threatened Alex Koval more than once, definitely meaning he's not on good terms with Jeff

• Wants to be a director, but has trouble working with others since they don't like him much

Jay

Sophomore

• Makes A's and B's

• Basically always hanging around Alex

• Does whatever Alex says

• Low on self confidence

• Used to be good friends with Brian but has grown distant from him because of Brian's bad relationship with Alex

• Wants to be a writer

• Really wants to approach Tim but is too scared of rejection and what Alex might do if he did so

• Lowkey gay for Tim but doesn't realize it

• In search of an after school job

• Major Insomniac

• Kinda paranoid

• Band kid, plays the clarinet

• Enjoys hiking

• Has done a couple of projects with stormy, but never became particularly close with her

Tim

Junior

• Literally just wants high school to be over

• Spent most of his childhood in a psych ward, eventually being diagnosed with schizophrenia, which he now takes meds for

• Only really close to Brian

• Worked on a project with Alex once, it did not go well, they're not on good terms

• Smokes but doesn't want anyone to know

• Works at the gas station down the road from the school

• Thinks Vinnie is alright

• Not on good terms with Noah

• Would probably fight Habit in a Denny's parking lot if given the chance

• Failing more than one class, doesn't exactly care

• Is in theater with Brian, but only really because Brian wanted him to be

• Skips on a regular basis

Brian

Junior

• Theater kid

• Literally constantly on the verge of fighting Alex

• Wants to help Jay get away from Alex but knows that Jay is too far involved with Alex to really help, so has decided to back off

• Bestfriends with Tim

• Get's along well with Jessica

• Kinda worried about Micheal, but doesn't know if it would be the right idea to approach him or not since he seems so jumpy and Patrick is pretty agressive

• Worked on a couple of projects with Noah, still can't quite figure out what's going on with him, but met Milo through him, and they get along well

• Runs an aesthetic poetry blog under the name ToTheArk

Jessica

Senior

• Photographer

• On the school swim team

• Jay's older cousin

• Would literally fist fight Alex if she got the chance

• Good friends with Brian and Steph

• High key worried about Tim, but knows she won't get anywhere by being straight forward about it

• Tries to encourage Michael to get out of his shell a bit

• Not Patrick's favorite person in the world

• Thinks Habit is an overly violent, edge lord wannabe and would probably say that directly to his face if given the chance

• Wary of Stan because of his relation to Alex, but would probably get along well with him if they talked

• Has a girlfriend whose in her first year of college

• Thinks Jeff is pretty cool, but isn't super close to him

• Hangs out in the art room with Steph before school

• Not a huge fan of Eric

• Owns one of the few working brain cells found at the school

_______

Vinnie

Senior

• Goes to the gym with Evan sometimes

• Doesn't really know what he wants to do with his life so he's currently just following after Corenthal by taking psychology classes

• Has known Habit for so long that he isn't scared of him anymore, but fears for others who may be left to deal with Habit alone

• Cares a lot for Evan

• There's some animosity between him and Shaun and Micheal and no one can figure out why

• Best friends with Jeff

• Gets along well enough with Tim when they have class together, but literally can't figure out what's up with him, wishes he would open up more but doesn't have the confidence to try and get him to do so

• Tried to talk to Stan once but caught him in the middle of a paranormal research session and got too freaked out to approach him again

• Was in choir at one point but quit

• Eric makes him uncomfortable

Evan

Junior

• Fitness expert

• Loves hunting

• Works as a trainer at the local gym after school

• Not great in terms of grades, but passing

• In the wrestling club at school

• Best friends with Vinnie and Jeff

• Would like to be closer to Noah but has trouble doing that since Habit and Noah are on such bad terms

• Curious about Micheal and Jay

• Will fight you if you tease him about his height

• Not one to stray away from violence, but doesn't like being associated with it because he doesn't want people to think of him the same way they do Habit

• Punk rock/emo aesthetic

• Gamer, probably plays with Kevin and Noah on the weekends

Habit

Junior

• Evan's twin brother

• Probably a drug dealer

• Has been known to attack kids who mess with him but even the teachers are too scared of him to do anything about it

• Enjoys teasing Noah and Jeff

• Has a collection of knives and other weaponry

• Super over dramatic

• Moves his hands a lot when he talks

• Avoids Alex Kralie

• Big gay

• Feeds stray cats to the point where they follow him around campus

• Skips class and hangs out in the theater

Jeff

Senior

• Really good at math and puzzle solving

• Total book worm

• Takes care of his younger brother, Alex, since their parents are dead

• Good friends with Evan and Vinnie

• Literally can't stand Habit

• Planning for college

• Loved by teachers

• Can almost always be found in the library outside of class

• Would like to be friends with Jay but doesn't want to approach him with Alex Kralie around

Alex Koval

Freshman

• Sticks close to his brother

• Loves his dog, Sparky

• Strugles with mental health in reference to the death of his parents

• Pretty scared of Habit, basically avoids him completely

• Probably doesn't get along well with Alex Kralie

• Very smol, please protect him

• Likes English and writing in general

Damsel/Steph

Sophomore

• Evan's girlfriend

• An artist

• Dislikes the rain, has a fear of drowning

• Wants to go to art school but is being pressed by her parents to pursue something more lucrative

• In medical classes for the above stated reason

• Had some problems with Jeff in the past but has moved on

• Gets along well with Brian and Jessica

• Probably tries to talk to Stan but fails to get him to open up

• Total scene kid

• Friends with Stormy

Dr. Corenthal

Staff

• The school counselor

• Habit, Evan, and Vinnie's adoptive father

• Not exactly on the principles good side, but good enough at his job to keep it

• Has weekly sessions with Milo that Mary doesn't know about

• Tries to talk to Micheal every once in a while but can never get him to talk about his problems

• Has tried to get Tim to come talk to him multiple times but has never successfully brought him into his office to talk

• Helping Jeff plan for college

_______

Noah

Sophomore

• Quiet around people he's not close to

• Has a scar of his left shoulder from a fight he was in with Habit

• Avoids Alex Kralie

• Pretty good friends with Vinnie

• Best friends with Kevin

• Mostly hangs with Kevin and Milo

• Likes old video games

• Would like to hang out more with Evan but doesn't to avoid Habit

• Very confused by Micheal and Patrick

• Judges people he's known for a long time without ever really talking to them

• Not as socially aware as he would like to think he is

Milo

Senior

• Noah's cousin

• Best friends with Kevin

• Literally can't stand his mom

• Can't figure out why Karl hates him but knows it has something to do with his mom

• Camera shy

• Keeps a journal

• Takes art classes but doesn't plan on pursuing it as a career

• Has struggled with on and off Depression as well as anxiety for the majority of his life

• Sleep walks

• On a lot of meds

Kevin

Junior

• Wants to be a game developer

• Hosts a coding club after school on Friday's

• Enjoys memes, probably quotes them a bit too often

• Best friends with Milo and Noah

• Keeps trying to convince Milo to be the artist for his games

• Can't see anything without his glasses

• In orchestra, plays the cello

• Super involved in school activities and organizations

• Tutors kids after school, including Micheal

• Has never met Habit and fully plans on keeping it that way

• Has talked to Jessica once or twice, would like to get to know her more

Mary

PTA Parent

• The overly involved PTA mom

• Very controlling of Milo

• Thinks Noah and Kevin are bad influences on her son

• Probably juggling multiple men at once

Karl

Teacher

• The advanced German teacher

• Very agressive

• Doesn't speak any English

• Tells old war stories

• Will fail you for even the most minor mistakes

• Has a grudge against Milo

• No one knows his full name

#slenderverse #slenderverse au #slenderverse highschool au #character description #long post #lots of text #sorry for how long this is #emh #everymanhybrid #tribetwelve #t12 #marble hornets #mh #to be continued #feel free to ask questions

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crystalninjaphoenix · 6 years

Text

Resurgence

A Jacksepticeye Fan Fiction

Part Five: This is the Police

Previous | Next

Summary: The kids are for sure missing, and Chase is the number one suspect in the eyes of the police. The boys have to scramble to piece together a way to get the kids back.

“Are you two gonna head home anytime soon?” Jackie asked, exasperated.

Marvin, lounging on the beanbag, looked over at JJ. “I dunno, you ready to go back yet?”

JJ, who was standing near the window and staring out, shrugged. I’m good to go at any moment. Just waiting for you, my good man.

“I’m comfortable, dude, might as well stay a bit longer.”

Jackie sighed. Marvin was a great friend, fun to be around and also one hundred percent ready to defend the others at any cost. But sometimes the hero thought he existed for the sole purpose of annoying the shit out of him.

A loud, banging knock came from the door, causing everyone to jump.

Were you expecting anyone, Jackie? JJ asked.

“I don’t think so...” Jackie frowned.

More banging. “Open up, police!”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Marvin sat straight up. “Did we do something? I don’t think we did anything. JJ, did we do anything?”

The silent man shook his head, but Jackie could see the doubt on his face. “Maybe they found my location?” Jackie suggested, knowing that wondering about doing crimes was not good for JJ’s health. “I mean, it’s not exactly legal to dress up in a red suit and beat up criminals.”

Bang bang bang. “This is your last warning. Open up, or we’re breaking down the door.”

“Oh, jesus. Hang on!” Jackie quickly crossed the room to the apartment’s front door, opening it to reveal three police officers. “What seems to be the problem, officer? It can’t be anything worth breaking the door down. That shit’s expensive to replace, you know.”

The cop in front, a tall, dark-skinned man, answered. “We need to come in, sir.”

“Uh, d’you have a warrant? Or probable cause?” Jackie knew a bit about police work, and he wasn’t about to let them in when there was reason to refuse.

A female cop in back spoke up. “He looks like the guy, Beaton. Just in better shape and longer hair.”

“Who do I look like?” Actually, Jackie knew of six other people he looked like, two of whom were still in his apartment, but he needed specifics.

“What’s your name, sir?” The first cop, Beaton, asked.

“Uh, Jackie. Jackie Parker. I have an ID, if you wanna check. But I would still like to know why you’re here.”

“Fifteen minutes ago, somebody in this apartment made a call,” Officer Beaton explained. “This call went to one Stacy Davidson, whose children went missing two days ago. The caller is a suspect in the case.”

“Wait...are you talking about Chase?” Jackie had to fight hard to keep his expression surprised and nothing more. So Bobby and Trevor really were missing? What happened? Actually, they all knew what probably happened. He got a sick feeling in his stomach just thinking about it.

“Chase Brody was the name, yes. He a friend of yours?”

“Yeah, he was here not too long ago. But he’s gone now.”

“We still have to check, Mr. Parker. And we have to search for the children as well. If you don’t mind...”

“Uh, yeah. Sure, okay.” Jackie stepped aside, and the cops entered the apartment. Marvin and JJ, who had certainly heard every word, had moved to standing beside the couch, and observed the proceedings with wide eyes.

“What are you, triplets?” muttered one of the cops.

“This is no time for jokes, Alvirez,” Officer Beaton reprimanded. “You and Cameron search the place. I’ll talk to these two.”

The two cops nodded, splitting off into the bedroom and bathroom. Jackie sidled over so he was standing between his friends and Beaton. He didn’t really think the policeman would hurt them, but you never knew. Crooked cops were everywhere, and it was better to be safe. Marvin and JJ subtly shifted so they were standing even closer to each other.

“Alright,” Officer Beaton said. “I’m going to assume neither of you are Mr. Brody, but considering how all three of you look eerily similar to him, I’m going to need some sort of identification.”

“That’s stupid,” Marvin muttered. JJ and Jackie gave him discreet looks of are you crazy do you want to get arrested? and the magician sighed. “But okay.” He reached into his jean pocket and withdrew a wallet, taking out a driver’s license and handing it over. Jackie did the same, using his work ID.

“This driver’s license is very expired,” Officer Beaton said. “But you’re clearly the guy in the picture. Marvin Moore, huh? Sounds familiar...”

“Yeah, I had my fucking fifteen minutes of fame a while ago,” Marvin drawled, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever. And you,” Beaton looked at Jackie, “seem to be who you say you are.” He turned to JJ. “Your turn, sir.”

Problem. JJ had absolutely no legal documents. Kinda hard to get identification for a man from the 1920′s. Swallowing nervously, JJ signed, I must’ve forgotten my ID at home.

“What the...?”

“Jameson can’t talk,” Jackie hastily explained. “He’s saying he left his ID at home. That’s okay, right?”

“Assuming he didn’t drive here,” Officer Beaton muttered. “I think I could let this one slide.”

The other two cops reemerged. “Nothing, Beaton.” “Big negative here, boss.”

“Okay, looks like you three are off the hook.” Officer Beaton gave Jackie and Marvin their IDs back. “I’d be careful around your Brody friend, though. It’s never a good sign when the guy you’re hanging out with is suspected of kidnapping.”

“Chase is the nicest, funniest, most kind-hearted guy ever,” Jackie defended. “Whatever’s going on, I’m one hundred percent sure he’d never take his own kids by force.”

“Still, be careful. We’ll be on our way now.” The three cops left, closing the door behind them.

The three exchanged worried looks. “I think we should check on Chase,” Marvin suggested.

Currently, Chase was freaking out. Not only were his kids missing, not only were they under the control of a murderous glitch demon, not only were they being used to blackmail him into killing his best friend, but just to rub salt in the wound, he was the number one suspect for their disappearance. It wasn’t like he could tell the police “hey, I didn’t kidnap Bobby and Trevor, this weirdo reality-breaking doppelganger did!” Actually, that would probably make them even more suspicious of him. He’d end up in a psych ward.

So there was nothing he could do except let the detectives into his house, wait for them to get comfortable, then sit down and try not to look like his insides were being squeezed by an invisible fist of anxiety. Schneep hovered awkwardly in the corner, looking back and forth between Chase and the detectives.

“So, uh, you dudes gonna question me? Or something?” Chase asked.

“That is our job, after all,” said the taller one, Detective Bowman. “But you don’t have to worry.” That did not stop Chase from being worried. “When was the last time you saw your kids?”

“Uh, the 27th, 28th, and 29th. They were over for custody weekend. Their mom came over and picked them up Sunday night, and I haven’t heard from them since.”

Detective Akela jotted something down in his notebook. “And you didn’t see them at all during the week?”

“No, sir.”

“Hmm...” the detectives didn’t look convinced. Akela continued, “The mother, Stacy, told us that the kids had been staying up late at night, talking to someone. When she asked them about it, the daughter refused to answer, while the younger son admitted they’d been talking with their father. You.”

Shit. “Well, I dunno what to tell you. I mean, Trevor does have quite an imagination. Maybe he was just missing me?” Or maybe the two of them had actually been chatting with someone who looked eerily similar to Chase.

“According to Stacy, this had been going on for about two months, but increasing lately,” Bowman added. “You’ve had no contact with your kids during that time period?”

“Apart from custody weekends, no.”

Akela made another note. “Can you explain why you and your wife had a divorce?”

Chase felt a jolt somewhere deep in his stomach. “Uh, w-well, um...” he cleared his throat. “It-it was her decision. I can’t know what was in her head, but, I think she didn’t...she wasn’t...she didn’t like my job. And I mean, uh, we did kinda get married young. Maybe she thought she was...” Wasting her life. “...missing out.” And she didn’t want to be stuck with a useless, drunk bastard who couldn’t do anything for her or the kids even though he loved them more than life itself.

The detectives exchanged glances, having some sort of silent conversation. “Did you feel cheated, at all, when the court decided you could only see Roberta and Trevor on the weekends?” Bowman asked.

“I mean, yeah, it sucked, but I couldn’t do anything about it. And I’m glad I still get to see them at all.” Chase swallowed nervously. “But you have to believe me when I say I’d never try and—and steal them. I’m not that kind of person.”

“If you say so, Mr. Brody,” Bowman said. She did not sound convinced at all.

“Ihr wisst nichts über elternschaft.”

Chase jumped. He’d completely forgotten Schneep was in the room until he heard that muttered phrase. The detectives had apparently forgotten too, as they turned to look at him. “And who might you be?” Bowman asked, a little rudely. She’d apparently picked up on Schneep’s impertinent tone.

“I am Doctor Henrik von Schneeplestein, a good friend of Chase,” he explained. “And you are being very rude to a person you know nothing about.”

“We’re merely doing our job, sir,” Akela sounded like he was trying to stop the conversation before it could go any further.

“Then you are doing it badly. You should know no parent in their right mind would take their own child when they are perfectly happy where they are. Why are you even having this conversation? Chase shouldn’t even be an option for suspect.”

“We have to consider everyone,” Bowman said, gritting her teeth. “You’d be surprised what people are capable of.”

“I very much doubt that. But Chase is not able to do anything you think he is capable of doing. Maybe you should find more about your suspicion people before you blame them for things they would never do.”

“I think we’ve found out everything we need to.” Akela stood up, giving his partner a significant look. Bowman glared at Schneep one last time before also getting to her feet.

“Well, uh, thanks for coming over and...letting me know about Bobby and Trevor,” Chase said. “Can you keep me in the loop? I want to know when they’re safe.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Brody, we will,” Akela assured him. “We’ll be on our way now.”

“Good day,” Bowman said curtly.

As soon as the door shut behind the detectives, Chase stood up and turned to Schneep. “Well, there’s no denying it now,” he said. “He has them.”

The doctor sighed, and leaned against the wall. It was like his anger at the detective had given him temporary strength, which drained away the moment they were gone. “Yes, it would seem so. He may not hurt them, Chase. Not unless he finds out you are not doing what he wants you to.”

“Doc...I can’t take that chance. You know that. What should we do?”

“I...maybe...”

Chase jumped as his phone rang. Fumbling with his pocket, he pulled it out and saw Jackie’s name on the caller ID. He put the call on speaker and answered, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Hi Chase,” Jackie sounded slightly panicked. “This is, uh, this is going to sound weird but a couple cops just showed up at my apartment looking for you—”

“Wait, really? A couple detectives were at my house. They said Bobby and Trevor were missing.”

“Yeah, the cops here said the same thing. They...uh, I guess you know they think you did it?”

“Said as much.” Chase took a deep breath. “What are we going to do?”

Silence for a bit. Then, “Okay, JJ just suggested he and Marvin do the scrying thing they mentioned earlier as soon as possible. Just see where they are, so we can try to get them back.”

“Sounds good—”

“Chase, wait.” Schneep jumped in. “Your kids are not the only ones in danger.”

Chase felt his stomach sink. “You mean Jack.”

Schneep nodded. “I think we need to wake him up, so he is able to defend himself.”

“You know how to do that?”

“Of course I do. I am qualified doctor.”

“We can split into teams,” Jackie said on the other end of the line. “Marvin, JJ, and me are gonna head to the new house, try to find the kids. You two go back to the hospital, try to wake Jack up.”

“Sounds like a plan. Call you on any updates?”

“Yep. Good luck.”

“You too, dude.” The phone call ended, leaving a dial tone in its wake. Chase sighed. He hoped this would work. He didn’t want to think of the consequences of failure.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #antisepticeye #brigid writes fanfiction #resurgence jse fic

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tumblunni · 6 years

Text

Umm im sorry i worried everyone!

Long story shory i managed to get past the suicidal moment and managed to talk to a staff member about it, albiet through the indirect awkwardness of sticky notes on the front of my door. Well, it worked! Even if it was quite a while of frantically scribbling and trying to go downstairs and hand it to someone and then giving up and ripping it upnand then trying again. Im almost out of notebook paper now!

So umm i talked to a nice lady who's YET ANOTHER new rotating staff member i never met before. But she said that maybe she can be assigned to me as my main nurse so at least im always talking to the same person each time when we're talking about the whole ptsd and anxiety thats the whole reason im here. And OH GOD THANK YOU she gave me validation that the Constantly Looking Through Your Door Every Hour So You Never Get Any Privacy was a REAL BAD IDEA in a goddamn psych ward! Apparantky its a stupid rule forced upom them by changing NHS standards since stupid brexit and our revolving door of new politicians cutting corners everywhere. It makes sense cos really its a very bigoted/stereotypical view of mental health people faaaaar away from a distance with no consideration to what they actually need to get better. "Oh check on the crazies to make sure they aint dangerous or killed themself when you arent looking", conpletely ignoring how such 24/7 surveillance could cause more suicides than it catches! And seriously let me reiterate how it did NOTHING to catch me when i wanted to kill myself the two times its happened already, its not like there's big visual signs, sometimes its just me sitting in the corner staring straight ahead and thinking things i feel unable to tell the staff members cos i cabt trust them cos of this bullshit. And if i really wanted to do it it would be so easy to just wait in between the checks! Its so dumb! And its so easy to just turn to face the door and say 'yes i'm here' every time they check and they just leave cos thats literally all they do?? Im able to do that in the middle of a damn breakdown! They dont even know if im okay or not, just that i didnt leave the room. And nobody noticed i had a big ol cut on my arm for three days!

So uhh yeah anyway the lady was mega nice and said they actually did anticipate that this rule would start off my paranoia and make me worse as soon as they first read my symptom list. And they said they were able to give me a guarantee of two hours unsupervised to just finally sit down alone and think and cry and get this combined weight of 8 days stress all out. And im allowed to go sit in the corner of the room where they cant see me and put the wardrobe in the way just in case i dont believe them.

So ive been sitting here in my little fort for a while and finally being able to hug my plush toys and just close my eyes and think through all of this shit. And like just.. Just this lady's kindness and knowing that im not being irrational for worrying and that i might have one person i can indeed talk to. It just helped a lot. I had a big stupid think and i think i'm..well im not okay but im not at risk of hurting myself anymore. I feel more optimistic that i'll be able tp endure all this if i know i can sometimes have a moment to just be allowed to be sad about it. And just not be seen. For the first ten minutes i was just all scrunched up repeating 'nobody can see me, nobody's allowed to see me' until i really believed it. Man im so fragile, just living in A House With Several People has already broken me down to that point! I feel proud i was able to build up a bit of a foundation again just by talking to myself and hugging a giant pokemon tho! And dear god all your messages really helped, thank you everyone! I feel a little bad that i wasnt able to draw anything good and post it for the one drawing request, but then i realized if its just to make me feel better im allowed to draw badly. Like how i was scrawling absolute nonsense on my arm with a pen two days ago, just so i wouldnt cut myself. It worked! It looked expectedly like what rabid depression scribbles look like, but it worked! So i probably wont show anyone my bad doodles but thank you for suggesting i do it! And the idea from someone else of just imagining some story prompts for those ocs i thought up shortly before i moved here. That cheered me up just to know people are still interested in that idea! I hope i can feel better enough soon to actually start drawing proper good stuff again so i can give them fittingly adorable designs! But just thinking up ideas in my head for lil offscreen mini stories helps me develop them even when i dont feel up to actually writing or drawing. And then there's the other people who just sent me hopes and prayers and messages of friendship and nice pictures! Oh god you guys are my actual lifeblood! One of the things i thought about while i was just chilling out was how i met all of my friends throughout my life and how they shaped who i became and how im like.. Just a big person shape made of links of friends, and all the ways i want to make them proud, and all the ways they saw worth in me even when i couldnt see it myself. And even thoigh many of them have left me they all helped lead me through so many spiralling paths to meet the others and to accomplish other things and to get to where i am today!

And just generally.. Uhh.. Love you guys a lot, okay.just wanted to let you know that im doing better, in case my mobile credit runs out. I love you so fucking much.

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