SALTBURNT | hex club group chat.

[powerhungry]

HEX CLUB/PINK SLIP GROUP CHAT. SILCO HAS ADDED YOU TO THIS CHAT. 42 people: Silco, Gwen, Faith, Hawk, Neon, Buffy, Cassian, Devon, Koby, Shadowheart, Stephen, Yeko, Zephir, Dean, Tara, Wanda, Jake, Saber, Sanji, Adrian; Ani, Peony, Bob, Yelena, Valentina, Sam, Max, Tristan, Parisa, Qimir, Thresher, Armand, Shauna, Cellar, Roza, Iggy, Isolde, Peter, Wally, Danny, Eddie, Teddie.

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🔒 — perma private, cw: mentions of assault.

[haggle]

( people aren't themselves. nearly killed me. alone, ani's pulse spasms and seizes. not with dread — not for long, at least. she files the point of each emotion until it's something sharper. something more practical for survival: anger, switchblade-sharp. like viciousness — like weaponized proof she's not goddamn weak — negates the very perception that she could ever become a helpless victim. like it isn't a full fucking fight to get out of bed, some days, after every single one of life's beatdowns. hard-won strength, hardwired stubbornness. the kind of shit that shouldn't be in question; the kind of shit she won't allow anyone to doubt. not even koby.

(her throat squeezes. her hand glides to it, soothes away the phantom pressure of embry's fingertips pressing in, in, in. not himself, maybe, in the way that none of them were themselves. her body can't make the same distinction. not when the memory is bruised into her, burst capillaries, tissue-deep. she can't ever fucking forget how it felt. made small, made powerless. made to prove she's anything but small and powerless a second time around.)

a series of texts, after a half-stretch of a delay: )

yeah? you think i need you to fucking babysit me?
you think i don't know how to handle my own shit?

how many times do i gotta tell you i've got it covered?
i don't wanna hear about it again. fucking drop it. okay?

[kobes]

[he wants to argue, of course. he wants to say you don't understand and it's like there's something else inside them and i can't let anyone else i care about get hurt here or i'll die. he wants to explain what it felt like to have someone he trusts with every ounce of his heart put their hands around his throat and claw his flesh open and leave it scarred. he wants to try and put words to how the potential for that happening over and over makes him feel, powerless and small and useless.

he doesn't.]

Okay.
You're right.
I won't mention it again.

[haggle]

( no other replies come through. just a simple, damning: )

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