#lesbian jack

[far-butter]

Ok, cancel all the debates within the Bioware fandoms, because I have the most important one right here :

Is Morrigan a femme or a butch and why do you think so?

And what about Jack in Mass Effect?

(and people who think they're remotely straight, well, you're entitled to your wrong opinion, but also dni, this is a queer only party)

[gooferdusted]

oh my god sorry i have more but lesbian jack, and her big sister claire,,,,,,,,,, claire being so protective of her and teaching her how to defend herself and HOLY SHIT they’d be like a perfect parallel for dean and sam???????

oh my god okay hold the fucking phone

• listen imagine you're claire novak, okay? go ahead, emo attitude, leather jacket, lesbianism, MENTION IT ALL!!!

• you think about your life in stages. it's more difficult not to. if you sit and try to make sense of the 22 years you've been on earth, the 11 since the rug was pulled out from under you, you'll lose your mind.

• (you tried it once, and couldnt stop crying until jody came home and held you until you passed out. you dont want a repeat.)

• this part isnt so bad, though, you think. you have a home, and a family, and a purpose, and for the first time since you were 10 years old, the clouds in your brain start to clear, and the world almost seems to make some sort of sense.

• (kaia makes sense to you. everything you do and think and feel when you're with her makes sense. you grab her hand every chance you get, like a kid with a balloon. you pray you can keep her grounded.)

• and then, in an instant, the rug is pulled out from under you again. her hand goes limp in yours. and the worldview you've built up for yourself, from ruins of what made sense to you, crumbles again. you dont see any point in trying to reconstruct it.

• but this kid. this curly haired gangly little weirdo, with the chewbacca hoodie and the little gap between her front teeth, she keeps invading your home with a sleeping bag under her arm and great big smile on her face.

• you tried to tell her that theres a spare bedroom. and a couch. she keeps bringing a sleeping bag.

• and despite yourself, you love her. you love her because castiel loves her, and you love castiel. and shes your sister. she just is. it didnt take much getting used to. it just made sense.

• and see, the thing is, jack could destroy worlds if she wanted to. she could tear apart the universe, and kill god with a snap of her fucking fingers. but instead you watch her levitate the box of cookie crisp down from the top shelf because shes too short to reach it.

• and it's that very simple moment, as you scroll mindlessly through your phone, sat hunched at the breakfast table, shoveling froot loops into your mouth, that you decide very firmly with yourself that you would die for her.

• you would die for her, because you love her. and because you wont let anyone die for you again. you wont be the one left behind again. you dont give a shit if its selfish.

• but when she comes to your window, crying, you think you might have to kill for her.

• you sit her down on your bed, and let her blubber through half a story. "it was an accident" she says, and she fixed it anyway, so why were they still mad? why was everyone always, always mad?

• you dont understand most of it, and you dont pry, because the blood stains on jack's shoes tell a story you're not sure you want to hear the end of.

• but you get what's important: jack liked a girl, things didnt go well. simple as that.

• you hold her while shes cries. its horrible to listen to. it's a reminder that jack is just a baby. she never learned how to cry quietly, so she doesnt. she wails and wails into your shoulder, until you've run out of meaningless little reassurances.

• "I think theres something wrong with me." she mumbles into your shoulder, in this awful, awful way, like shes expecting an agreement. "I dont think I'm supposed to feel the way I do. I'm too much for everyone."

• "theres nothing wrong with you." you say, because its all you can manage.

• "but people treat me different." jack whispers. "doesnt that mean I'm wrong?"

• it's impossible to make her understand, try as you might. jack thinks in black and white. things are right or they're wrong, and everyone has to agree, or shes the fuckup. you suppose you do the same. life in stages. black and white. same trauma induced shit, different day.

• "well, you're not too much for me, okay?" you say, and you hope it means anything at all to her.

• jack hugs you tighter. "thanks, claire."

• you hold her the rest of the night, and for the first time since you were 11, you feel a purpose outside of hunting. it makes sense to you.

• (and there are these moments, where you can almost forget what your life is, and has been. when jack sits across from you at the breakfast table, and castiel takes off that stupid trenchcoat and looks like a dad. like your dad.

• you can almost forget you're not blood. you let yourself.)