#cauterizedfear

@cauterizedfear​ said   “you don’t have to apologize just for existing”   from jj !

DOESN’T SHE?    some  days,    some  days  the  thoughts  that  linger  make  her  wish  she  knew  the  answer.    maeve  is  so  kind,    always  has  been,    hopefully  always  will  be.    she  treats  the  world  around  her  with  the  absolute  tenderness  she  can  never  show  herself:    mistakes  from  others  can  be  forgiven,    people  at  their  cores  are  good.    so  why  is  it  so  hard  to  let  herself  breathe?    mistakes  from  others  are  one  thing,    but  maeve  never  allows  herself  a  moment  without  the  pressure  constantly  on  her  shoulders.

god  she’s  so  tired.     daughter,    agent,    child  prodigy,    hard  work  is  everything.    ❝   sorry.”   her  smile  is  bright,    cheerful  even.    even  maeve  has  no  idea  if  it’s  genuine.    she  is  happy,    after  all.    the   tired  sort  of  happiness  where  feeling  it  is  an  active,    constant,    choice.    ❝   I  didn’t  mean  it  like  that.   ❞     didn’t  she?    some  days  the  profiler  barely  knows  how  she  does  mean  her  moments  of  surprising  honesty.    ❝  I  know  I’m  not  the  team  member  you  all  wish  were  here,    is  all.    you  must  miss  them  very  much.  ❞  

she’s  a  temporary,    poor,    stand  in  within  the  team.    talented  enough  that  she  can  do  her  work    -    sweet  enough  she  can  make  friends.    but  the  fleeting  nature  of  her  time  here  with  this  family  lingers  with  the  reminder  of  how  foster  care  once  lingered.

@cauterizedfear​ said  “and then i remembered … i’m a naughty bitch”  from lula !

HER SCOFF IS SHARP,      barely  looking  up  from  the  pages  of  her  book  as  she  quietly  stretches,    fingers  tracing  patterns  on  one  of  the  far  too  many  cushions  around  her.    she  doesn’t  need  to  voice  her  disapproval      -      it’s  as  clear  as  the  blue  cushion  that  is  thrown  across  the  air,      aim  vaguely  decent  at  best.      ❝    you’re  a  brat  is  what  you  are.    ❞     pink  lips  curve  as  she  tuts,     annoyance   &&   amusement  hard  to  distinguish  from  each  other  when  it  comes  to  lula.

she’s  not  used  to  this,     to  having  someone  her  own  age  around,     having  blood  family.     some  days  it  feels  wrong:    thinking  of  herself  as  no  longer  separate  from  the  world  that  surrounds  her.     ❝   you  know  you’re  going  to  get  yourself  in  trouble,    however  naturally  naughty  you  may  be.   ❞

@cauterizedfear​​ said   “you got enough material for your sequel yet?”  from jemma !

SHE IS WHO SHE IS,   it’s  a  simple  law  of  the  universe:    for  all  the  work  she  puts  in,     she’ll  never  be  anything  but  her  true  nature.     it’d  take  too  much  energy  to  try  and  force  herself  to  ever  present  more  than  a  skin  deep  presentation  when  she  needs  to  fool  the  world.    for  the  most  part,     maeve  donovan  is  believed  to  be  dead,    few  know  she’s  still  alive  and  even  fewer  know  the  circumstances  of  her  survival.     it  seems  unlikely  any  of  those  would  imagine  her  like  this;    sat  on  a  wheeled  chair,     quietly  spinning  by  her  desk  as  she  flicks  through  the  never  ending  stack  of  papers  that  surround  her  like  the  sea  around  an  island.

❝   I  was  thinking.   ❞      the  geneticist  flashes  a  smile,    reaching  out  a  hand  to  slow  the  steady  spins  so  she  can  actually  look  at  the  fellow  genius.     ❝   instead  of  driving  myself  to  supervillain  levels  of  hating  the  world-ness  trying  to  ghostwrite  the  continuation  of  my  officially  alive  life’s  work,     perhaps  it’s  time  to  try  something  new.  ❞

@cauterizedfear​ said  “eternal peace is probably overrated”  from lilly  this got sad REAL FAST

ETERNAL PEACE,    the  concept  is  more  than  she  can  ever  stomach:    impossible,    out  of  reach.    she  could  wish  to  hold  a  still  shining  star  between  her  tender  hands  and  it’d  be  far  more  likely  to  ever  happen.    at  least  she’d  know  how  to  handle  the  burning,     the  coming  apart  that  would  follow  being  destroyed  could  be  so  much  tolerable  if  she  can  ever  imagine  a  kind  of  silence  that  doesn’t  destroy  her.    her  own  thoughts  are  rarely  kind,    they  rarely  let  her  rest.

❝   my  whole  kingdom  for  even  a  moment  of  peace.   ❞     she  jokes  with  a  half  smile  that  never  reaches  her  eyes,    distracted  gaze  taking  a  moment  to  even  focus  on  the  redhead.     exhaustion  comes  with  a  lack  of  sleep     -    the  lack  of  sleep  itself  borne  from  an  overactive  restless  mind.     who  she’s  trying  to  be  and  who  she’s  been  overlap  heavily,     but  they’re  as  out  of  reach  as  wishes  for  peace.     ❝   do  you  reckon  walmart  has  any  in  stock?     it’d  be  in  the  frozen  aisle  with  the  ice  cream,    wouldn’t  it?  ❞

@cauterizedfear​ said   “in my defence, i have none”   for lula !

WHAT WOULD THEY HAVE BECOME,      had  they  been  given  the  opportunity  to  grow  up  together?      the  files  on  the  other  are  vague,     half  gathered  information  painting  a  picture  of  a  woman  whose  only  sense  of  permanence  is  attached  to  her  own  talent  for  mischief.     chaos  &&  order,    they  seem  to  thrive  on  opposite  ends  of  the  spectrum:     a  study  in  duality  where  they  both  wear  the  same  inherited  mask.    

maeve  has  always  worked  hard  to  be  everything  those  around  her  wish  her  to  be,    the  perfect  daughter,    agent,    student,    teacher.     her  own  identity  so  intertwined  with  the  needs   of  others  that  some  days  she  almost  forgets  about  the  quiet  absence  aching  beneath  her  skin.     ❝   see,    I  think  you  do.  ❞    green  eyes  stay  studious,    attentive,    no  matter  how  she  leans  back  in  her  seat  to  try  and  feign  anything  but  how  tense  she  feels.    ❝  I  mean,     magic,     illusion.    an  interesting  choice  of  lifestyle,    is  it  not?  ❞

@cauterizedfear​ said:    🚬 : my muse steals a lollipop from your muse & puts it in their mouth . / for natasha, from sharon. ( i thought about it too hard, whichever way around means nat is stealing the lollipop! )

          sharon is good. her reputation may not spread as far and wide as the black widow’s, but natasha also knows that to not be a bad thing, inherently—quite the opposite, it speaks of a discretion that goes beyond tactics of fear and death. over the years, natasha has seen carter in action, and knows the other’s reflexes aren’t to be underestimated, determination even less so, and thus she bides her time with her target, only a few distracted glances almost giving away her mark. when the time is right, she stops speaking, gives sharon a turn in the conversation:  the blonde swallows the bait, opens her mouth, natasha’s target moving from bobbing between the woman’s lips to between the fingers of a gesturing hand—

          —for less than a second before nat snatches it away. an eyebrow quirk for a sign of victory.     “  it was distracting me.  ”     with a smirk on her lips, it’s all she says as she pops the lollipop into the mouth of its now-rightful owner.  ( truth be told, strawberry is far from her favourite flavour—it’s the expression on sharon’s face that makes it sweet. )

“you get used to it.” 

it’s half truth, half joke. you don’t get used to it, but you learn to adjust. there’s no getting used to watching people die, but there’s adaption. there’s survival. 

( you, though. you’re used to the fact that you might die. death is an old and familiar song. you’ve died once, twice. you saw heaven and knew you’d been punked.)