✿Aphmau Shitposts and Other Depressing Things✿

i found it in a journal. i like it

Zane hates the sight of his own hands. He has to have Garroth help him with his coffee; not just because he's tired (even though he barely gets any sleep with the nightmares) but because the brown mug is a little too close in color to a tree branch he remembers holding. He startled when he looks in the mirror, because he could swear his eye was green...

Lucinda struggles with the potions. Every recipe reminds her of her invaded mind, every glow of light dangerous. The green leaves she has to crush with ice throws her back into the snow, where she didn't stop herself, and she thinks she enjoyed it a little when she threw that ball of energy at Aaron. She doesn't know what scares her more.

Kim argues with Ghost everyday. A dog's howl in her neighborhood spooks her so bad she drops her mug. Exhaustion blurs her vision, and she can't tell if the words she throws at her boss are hers or the spirit in her mind.

Garroth repeats his mantra. He is in charge of saving them. He wakes up, hands poised to break down Laurance's door. The cold bars on his window frame are crunched in his hand. He is stuck in a cage, knowing he has to save them, and he stands on the outside windowsill, woken up by Zane's sobs.

Aaron itches at the scars. The one on his neck hurts the most; he can barely talk. That doesn't stop him from growling though, and the wolf in his mind urges him to attack that head with the black hair, and the grey eyes in the face, but his human half sees the stubble on his father's face and recognizes its him. That doesn't stop both parts growling 'You hurt me.'

Aphmau pukes the first time she sees the nightgown she bought for Aaron. The green shirt shows her shoulders and midriff. She drops a jar in the bathroom, and the blood leaking through her fingers look a little too much like smeared blood on her hands and she's puking into the sink, not caring she's stepping on shards of glass, it's nothing compared to the bite of the cold and the slap on her face. The arms ensnare her, and she tried to push away from him, but she hears him whisper "Oh mija," and she is scared again.

They are broken. They are warriors. They were not meant to be hurt like this. And they have yet to heal.

(And he stares into a mirror for hours on end, into his green eyes because he can practically feel his mother's hands on his shoulders, hugging him and whispering "Your eyes look like storm clouds, Travis," but that's silly, not a real memory, because there's no such thing as green clouds and yet the words slither through his brain and match with the ones that tell him what to do, because he was born to be a true warlock)