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waitingfortheendtocome · 3 years

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Forced to Let Go CH 1

I wrote this a while a go and posted it on my AO3 account. I was meaning to post it here but I kept putting it off until I completely forgot about it lol. This is a Jemily(JJ/Emily) three chapter Fic. It was meaning to be a one-shot but It grew too long so I split it into three parts. I was listening to Easier to Run and My December by Linkin Park, as well as Britney’s song called Everytime which where the songs that inspired this fic so I was listening to those songs while writing them.

Gif’s I use aren’t mine credit goes to the creator I don’t know who made it I borrowed it off the gif sets tumblr gives you.

Warning: angst, angst, angst and more angst. Heartbreak, self-doubt, loneliness

Chapter One

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Emily’s Apartment

Emily walked numbly into her apartment early in the evening. She had just got back from working the local case which happens to be a bank robbery case. She didn’t exactly enjoy the case but it made her realize just how badly she needed to get away. Besides the bank exploding near her, trying to solve the difficult case and saving the victims, she had to save none other than Will which to her felt like an insult to injury. Things with JJ haven’t exactly been all that great and perhaps that was her fault but she could hardly be blamed. Her and JJ were the best of friends technically they were past being best of friends at this point they were lovers.

JJ had been the first person who welcomed her into the team, the first person who treated her like an equal and made her feel welcoming. Emily fell for her the moment she laid eyes on her, Emily knew she was screwed the moment JJ smiled brightly at her and shook her hand. Maybe all along Emily read too much into it but the small smiles and the light blushes the lingering touches that accompanied them when they started getting closer and becoming best friends. Emily and JJ hung out often but what caused Emily to confirm her feelings was after they shared a room for the first time and began having intimate conversations Emily was casual when JJ mentioned dating other women and told the younger woman that she dated and been with women since is her preference. Emily had studied the thoughtful look JJ carried but it wasn’t brought up again at least not until months later where it was followed by a kiss.

Emily should have tried harder to resist but she couldn’t help it by that time Emily knew she was in love but knew she would never come forward first and express her feelings first. For one she hadn’t wanted to get hurt and two she didn’t know how JJ felt for her whether it was her experimenting or her actually having feelings for her and wanting more. Safe to say she now knows exactly what JJ feels for her as well what this whole seven plus years were to the woman she considers a best friend. Nothing more than an experimentation, something to get her curiosity out of her system. Emily felt her heart shatter at the idea that to JJ all this time it wasn’t anything more than an experiment.

Emily walked into her kitchen shaking the thought out of her head and grabbed her bottle of wine, a wine glass and sat in her living room filling her cup not even bothering to turn the lights on. What was the point? The darkness around her for once it felt welcoming and it fit her depressing mood. Her heartbreak, betrayal and loneliness. The feelings once alienating to her she now welcomed it like a second skin, this no longer felt like home to her.

“Maybe I really am meant to be alone.” Emily grumbled to herself as she filled her glass

But her thought wandered again as she took her first large gulp of wine back to the blonde and Emily hated herself for even thinking about her but she couldn’t help it. Emily was in love with the blonde despite the heartbreak she was currently nursing. After that one kiss JJ and Emily ended up having sex casually at first but it became frequent especially when they shared a room or JJ stayed over. Emily’s hopes started to grow the more they hung out together believing things might lead to more but it never did so Emily waited patiently which slowly became hopeless when they went to New Orleans and saw JJ spend a little too much time with that detective Will which lo and behold the two ended up secretly dating so Emily ended her whatever it was with JJ which became hopeless when the blonde showed up in Emily’s old apartment questioning why she was distant.

Emily got confused until JJ pointed out why they weren’t hanging out like they use to until Emily felt offended letting JJ know that they can’t have sex because she is with Will. JJ obviously got offended and stated nothing was serious to say Emily ended up having angry sex was understatement if JJ’s loud reactions was anything to go by but much to her own frustration neither bothered to stop their casual sex. Even after Doyle came back when they were in Paris the two were going at it but now that Doyle was dead and things were going back to normal Emily just couldn’t do it. She felt broken, confined in her own skin and felt alone. She just didn’t feel the same anymore so two weeks ago she ended up confronting JJ about it. Emily couldn’t handle being someone else's dirty little secret. Being someone else's secret fling. A second choice. Even if that person was JJ who she loved.

Emily loved JJ. She fell in love with her, her bright personality, compassion, kindness, her beautiful smile to match all her beauty. JJ was Emily’s light. Emily’s anger. Even then Emily couldn’t be second best to Will so she had confronted JJ about it. That led to a heavy discussion and JJ’s last words before Emily promptly left JJ’s hotel room during the Oregon satanic ritual case broke and shattered Emily into millions of pieces. Not only that but it only proved that the blonde didn’t feel the same way despite JJ’s countless reminders but Emily just didn’t feel it.

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Flashback

Oregon-JJ’s Hotel room

Emily tried to hold back her tears as she looked away from JJ and out the window as a form of distraction. She knew if she looked at JJ she'd break down. She wondered why she even bothered coming to the hotel room to bring up what they were or even ask if they could be more. She assumed JJ felt the same way. They have been secretly having sex for years now so she just assumed the feelings were mutual. Emily herself tried several times to stop it due to JJ and Will but the blonde didn’t seem to think so saying that it was okay as long as no one found out which made Emily slightly uncomfortable but ignored it. She had been content with at least having JJ in some form so they continued. Emily got the courage to talk to JJ about it, to ask her what they were and if they can be something more. Although Emily wasn’t outright with the last request knowing it was a bad idea so instead she hinted it in a way that can be brushed off quickly.

To say it was a mistake was an understatement because they began to talk about their feelings and JJ reassuring Emily how much she loved her but and wanted to be with her but couldn’t according to JJ she couldn’t hurt Will or do that to him which baffled Emily due to the fact that she technically was going behind his back but Emily didn’t voice it instead she looked away. Granted when Emily began to see how close JJ and Will were becoming due to Emily’s request she had insisted on them not sleeping as often the only times they did was when they were overwhelmed from a case or spontaneous but spread out in actuality Paris was the last time they were in bed together. JJ tried a few times but Emily refused now glad she put her foot down because here she was standing in the blondes hotel room getting her heart broken on top of everything else she is going through right now.

“Emily please say something.” JJ asked her voice cracking trying to contain her own emotions heartbroken over having hurt her best friend

“I’m not asking you to leave him, he is your safety net, comfort. What you’re expected to marry and spend all your life with. I would never ask you to leave him. I just needed to know if I had a shot. A chance. If you would have given us a chance but I know what sacrifices that made JJ I’ve been out for most of my life now remember,” Emily told her shaking her head feeling hurt and betrayed, “Those times JJ, the intimacy I will always cherish them. You know I love you dearly Jayje, but at the end of the day after we have sex I look beside me to find the side of the bed meant to be yours cold and empty. I wished to have you wake up beside me every morning, wrap my arms around you and hold you while you fix yourself coffee in the morning and I whisper I love you. Take you out on dates, show you the world because you deserve that and more. All this sneaking around I realize now I can’t anymore. I can’t do it anymore. Especially not after everything that has happen.” Emily turned away from JJ barely able to contain her own tears.

JJ's eyes become glassy from the unshed tears, “I’m sorry Emily. I love you. I truly love you and wished to be with you but I can't. I don’t want to hurt Will and I can’t make that kind of commitment. I’m so sorry Emily.” JJ whispered between sobs

Emily shook her head with a sigh and walked away with an indifferent shrug but paused to squeeze JJ’s shoulder as a form of letting her know that they aren’t any hard feelings despite her shattered heart.

“It’s fine JJ I wasn’t expecting you to and I knew what your answer would be but I can’t continue sleeping with you either. It isn’t fair for me or Will. I care about you Jayje and don’t worry this wont fuck up us working together or our friendship just pretend we didn’t have this conversation is for the best.” Emily told her as she opened the door and walked away.

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Emily’s Apartment

Emily shook the memory away and got up from her chair and walked to the bedroom putting down the now half empty bottle of wine and dropped on her bed curling into a ball and sobbed uncontrollably no longer able to contain her heartbreak anymore. What was the point after years of giving someone all your love and them not even bothering to give it back. Emily remembered all the touches, kisses, caresses and whispers of affections they’ve shared. Waking up beside each other in their shared hotel rooms the rare times they get to share a hotel feeling content and happy to wake up beside the woman she loved than realizing those are the only times they wake up together and her heart would ache at all over again. Emily wondered if Doyle was right all along. His whispering words hunting her whispering how she’ll never have the woman she loves and will end up alone with no one. Emily's body shook remembering the painful stab wound and equally painful branding mark that she still had on her. She was going to get the blackbird tattoo but now just the thought brought out more heartache. She’s going to get it but will have to wait until she wasn’t hurting which was worse she hated the brand mark.

What made it worse was fate slapping her in the face by forcing her to save Will. At the end of the day she ended up saving him for JJ’s and Henry’s sake not even for Will’s sake since Emily never found him interesting and found him slightly boring but she didn’t know what JJ saw in him. Saving him was Emily’s tipping point. Emily’s breaking point was what led her into drinking half a bottle of wine was the text she received from Garcia letting her know what Will proposed to JJ and she said yes. Emily knew that was an impulsive request for marriage and knew it was JJ who requested it and that hurt the most especially when Emily knew JJ never wanted to marry him. Emily secretly knows she pushed JJ to him and hates herself with passion for it. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be here and see them together anymore. What's worse in two days they are going to say ‘ I do' . Two days if that didn’t scream rushed wedding before she changed her mind then Emily wasn’t sure what did.

Emily laid in her bed for what seemed like hours, her bedroom as dark as the rest of her apartment sobbing every time she thought she was getting it under control another fresh wave of tears fell and another heavy sob broke out of her causing her to sob even harder. Until her body tired itself out and she ended up crying herself to sleep. A few lone tears flowing out of her eyes even when she slept, her shoulders tense and body curled up as if attempting to protect herself from her own heartache.

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Next Morning

Emily stirred awake not sure how long she was asleep let along. She sat up feeling a headache but didn’t care. Emily woke up worse than when she was the night before. Memories of the night before coming back to her quickly, the case, Emily’s call from Clyde, the discussion she had with JJ weeks before, Emily distancing herself somewhat from the blonde. She still went to team gatherings and the girls nights but she no longer let JJ sleep over nor did she linger back when they were parting ways. Now any time Garcia calls to go home Emily leaves with her or quickly after but now Emily realized she couldn’t do it anymore. Emily felt broken she couldn’t have this life back. Doyle took her life from her, taking it back like nothing and going back like nothing happened made her realize that he destroyed that for her. Emily realized now that the only thing that kept her here was also taken from her and she no longer had a chance with.

JJ was the only thing that kept her here. The hope that they can be together but now that is gone too. Emily stuck around hoping that she still had a chance to be with JJ especially after the conversation they had in Paris where JJ promised they’ll meet again and even hinted at them being official and her giving Emily a chance. Emily grabbed her phone and texted Clyde letting him know she accepted the offer and will fly to London the following evening. Now all Emily had to do is take today is back her suitcases book a flight. She didn’t have to worry about the furniture since she could pay the landlord to get rid of it.

Emily didn’t think she just pulled out all her suitcases and began the slow process of packing her bags.

“Come on Emily…. Don’t think about it just pack and leave don’t look back.” Emily told herself

#Criminal Minds #Jennifer Jereau #Emily Prentiss #jemily #jemily angst #jemily fanfiction #jemily story #JJxEmily #jj/emily #jj and emily #jennifer jereau/emily prentiss

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streetlampsunset · 4 years

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Coffee (With The Right Amount of Sugar) How You Like It

Ao3

It took him an embarrassingly long time to notice, but David was pretty sure Patrick was a witch. In a building this old there should have been a draft, but there wasn’t anything more than a light breeze accompanying the chime of the bell.

No matter how preoccupied he got dealing with customers, David’s coffee never grew cold after Patrick brought their drinks back from the cafe. Most importantly, his selfies were always perfectly lit behind the cash, despite the fact that the stark white should have completely washed out his complexion. It was the bulbs Patrick had wired there that made him come to the realization.

“David?” Ronnie called. She was installing shelving in the backroom now that they had the money to splurge on a few things. David was perfectly content to continue stacking their paperwork along the wall, but Patrick had wanted a more visible filing system from day one.

“Hum?” he asked, glancing up from his phone.

“This wiring is a safety hazard,” she said, peering into the wall. “To be honest, I’m surprised they’re even running.” David shrugged, Patrick was good at fixing things. “Can you get the other bulb there?” she asked, gesturing with the end of her level.

David reached up to unscrew the light, a familiar current rushing through his fingertips. It felt like cocoa powder on his tongue, warm air curling over his skin, the sun catching the angle of his jaw just right. There was a steady thrum of energy keeping the bulbs running, but it wasn’t electricity. It was magic. He had thought the store felt like home from the start. He hadn’t realized Patrick was a witch too.

“Are you spying on Ted again?” David asked, leaning over Alexis’ shoulder. He had come out of the bathroom to find her sitting on her bed. Supposedly, she was doing her makeup, but she hadn’t moved for nearly three minutes.

“Oh my god, personal space, David,” Alexis said, snapping her compact shut. The last time she had been scrying something that intently, it had been a followup to the bunny webcam incident. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m checking on the animals,” Alexis said, “Twyla found two baby kittens in the dumpster behind the cafe and they have to sit in these sad little cages all day waiting for someone to buy them.”

“Mmhm, and you just happened to check up on them when you knew Ted would be getting back from his run?” He asked, moving to his closet.

“Okay, it’s not my fault if that’s when I have time,” Alexis said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I have a very full schedule today.” David snorted.

He flicked through his sweaters, “Did you know Patrick has magic?”

“Um, yes, obviously, David,” Alexis said without glancing up from her phone.

“Uh, excuse you,” David said, holding up a Rick Owens for consideration, before deciding against it. “What do you mean, obviously?”

“We talk witchy things literally all the time,” Alexis said. She waved her hand in his direction, “He uses little hedge spells to keep your clothes from getting all wrinkly and your hair from looking sad.” Alexis tilted her head and scrunched up her nose. “You can’t feel them?”

David slid on a Gavinchey piece and bent down to tie his high-tops. When he stood up, Alexis was about two inches from his face.

“Um, now who doesn’t understand personal space?” David asked, rearing back as she slid her fingers along his hairline.

“Shush, David,” Alexis said, going almost cross eyed as she focused on a spot near his temple, “and hold still.”

The Roses didn’t practice witchcraft so much as they lived it. Their mother’s idea of a magical education had been warning him to keep Alexis out of faerie circles while they explored the grounds, lest they bring malevolent energies into her homestead. It had been up to them to study what they found relevant to their craft. As a result, Alexis was unusually good at picking apart the intention behind a casting. She slid her thumbs across his cheekbones.

“Oh my god, David, he put a focus charm in your under eye serum,” Alexis said, grinning as she stepped back, “he is so into you.”

“Just because he did one moderately invasive thing, does not mean that he’s into me,” David said, arranging his rings for the day.

“Mmm, okay, you’re so wrong,” Alexis said, “ask him to come foraging with us tomorrow then.”

David grimaced, glancing away, “about that.”

“Do not tell me you forgot again, uuugh. No, David, I am not going alone. The woods are so creepy in the morning.” She rummaged around in her bag handing him a pair of cinnamon sticks wrapped in twine, “here, I was going to use this tonight, but it seems like you need it more.” David tucked the courage charm in his pocket; that was uncharacteristically unselfish of her.

“Patrick is good at carrying things and that way you’ll have to come.” David sighed, grabbing his bag and heading to work. “David, David!” she called from the doorway, “the woods, David, ask Patrick.”

“Walk into traffic,” David yelled back.

David hadn’t always gotten along with other witches. Especially not methodical, practicing ones like Patrick. He could see it now that he knew where to look, the ritual in Patrick’s movements. The organization and dedication to order. He watched Patrick spritz the basil plants in the window, murmuring to them softly.

“I’m going foraging tomorrow morning,” David said, words spilling out of his mouth before he could think them through. “It’s a good time of year to harvest around here if you want to come.”

Patrick looked up from the plants, grinning, “I’d like that.” The bell chimed over the door before they could talk more, a wave of customers pouring in. They had a pretty steady number of them until mid afternoon.

“Why am I doing this again?” Patrick asked, wiping the brush on the inside of the bottle. They were standing on opposite sides of the counter. David had complained about how difficult it was to paint his dominant hand and Patrick had offered his assistance.

“Because it requires a steady hand,” David said, taking another sip of his coffee, “and this makes me jittery.”

“Well, in that case, maybe I should stop bringing you one after lunch,” Patrick said, grinning. He moved on to David’s pointer finger, covering the nail in black polish with even strokes.

“That seems like a bit of an overreaction, when we have a simple solution to the problem right here,” David said, gesturing to his nails with the hand he was supposed to be letting dry. Patrick’s fingers darted out to wrap around his wrist, carefully lowering it back to the counter.

“If you smudge them, I’m not redoing it,” he said, glancing up to meet David’s eyes.

“Okay, well how am I supposed to drink my coffee, then?” David asked, shrugging with both of his hands flat on the counter. It was a very strange feeling.

Patrick rolled his eyes, picking up David’s coffee and tilting it toward him, “there, drink.”

David nodded to his sweater, “Okay, but this is Gavinchey so-”

“Just drink the coffee, David,” Patrick said, laughing, “I’m not going to spill on your sweater.” David leaned forward, taking a sip. He could taste the magic in it now. The warmth of the cocoa powder rushed through him.

“I’ve never thanked you for this,” David said, nodding at the coffee, “keeping it warm.” Patrick grinned, ducking his head as he moved to the next nail.

“You don’t have to thank me, David,” he said. “Honestly, it’s mostly automatic by now.” David bit his lip to keep from smiling. “You, uh, you looked so disappointed on opening night when it got cold, so I charmed it the next day, and the one after that, and I guess I never really stopped.”

“I don’t remember that,” David said. They’d had a constant stream of customers from the time they opened the doors til a few minutes after they were supposed to close. “We were so busy the day of the opening, how did you even have time to notice?” Patrick shrugged, capping the nail polish and setting it off to the side.

“I always notice you, David,” he said, glancing up to meet his eyes. Patrick was right there, eyes darting towards David’s mouth.

“Someone said I’m not supposed to move my hands,” David said, tapping his fingers against the counter. The cinnamon sticks were warm in his pocket; he could be brave, “so if you want to kiss me you’re going to have to make the first move.”

Patrick’s hand reached out to cup his jaw. He leaned in, closing the distance between them. David was pretty sure nothing was ever going to feel more magical than this, kissing Patrick in the middle of the store they had built together.

* * *

“Turn,” David said, making a circling motion in the air. Alexis raised a brow, eyeing the charm in his hands. “Oh my god, Alexis,” He repeated the gesture with greater emphasis, “just turn around.” Alexis rolled her eyes, but did as he asked.

“I’m not going to wander off, sheesh, David,” she said as he wove a well worn ribbon through her braid. Small silver bells dangled between the strands. He secured the top with a citrine hair pin.

“Mkay, that’s what you said at Yellowstone,” he said, tying off the end. “I ended up having to call for a park ranger because you were lost in the woods for two and a half hours.”

“I was five, David,” she said, twisting in the mirror to admire the adornments. “I know better than to play with the fae now.”

“Do you?” Patrick asked, mouth quirking up as he met David’s eyes over her shoulder.

“Ugh, yes, Patrick,” she said, moving to dig the brown bag their mother had given her out of the closet. David snagged his eyeliner from her makeup bag while she wasn’t looking. It kept ending up there, although Alexis claimed she had no idea how. Patrick followed him to the bathroom, closing the door behind them.

“Can I help you?” David asked, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed. Patrick grinned.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could help you,” he said. “I thought you might need a steady hand for that.” He nodded towards the eyeliner pencil.

“Did you?” David asked. He held it out, gesturing at his face, “by all means.”

Patrick reached out to cup David’s jaw, tilting his head. Patrick took a step forward, studying David’s face. His eyes were dark in the low light from the window, honey brown turned light whiskey. He laughed softly.

“Look up,” he said, lifting the pencil. Oh, right. Patrick drew it over his waterline with even strokes. “Close your eyes, David.”

David slid them closed. He felt the edge of Patrick’s hand brush over his cheekbone and then there was gentle pressure along his lash line. Every other time he’d had someone do this they’d stabbed him with it, but Patrick’s hand glided over his other eye without incident.

“There,” he said softly, “you can open your eyes now.” David blinked them open, Patrick was inches from his face. “David,” Patrick said, thumb sliding down his cheek.

He wasn’t sure who moved, but one second Patrick’s gaze had drifted to his mouth and the next David could taste the mint on his tongue. Patrick’s hands found their way around his waist. David pressed closed, bringing one hand up to rest on his shoulder, the other twining through the short curls at the back of his neck. Patrick brushed a chaste kiss to his lips as he pulled away.

“You look nice,” Patrick said, squeezing his hips lightly.

David was wearing head to toe Rick Owens . This was a sweater he chose often for foraging; the exaggerated hood made a convenient pocket to carry mushrooms or leaves back to his bag. The skirted pants were mostly for aesthetic purposes, but they were also comfortable over long distances. He had a pair of boots somewhere, probably in Alexis’ closet, that laced halfway up his shin and were particularly good for walking through the underbrush.

More traditional witches had called it sacrilege, the way he and Alexis intermingled their crystals and herbs with designer pieces. But their mother had always believed that one's connection to magic was their own. She had taught them not to mind the opinions of others when it came to honoring their craft.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to tell you when I got here,” Patrick said, “you know, with Alexis around.”

David flinched, stomach sinking. His hands went cold where they rest on Patrick’s shoulders. Of course Patrick wouldn’t want people to know they had kissed. He thought he contained his expression well enough, but Patrick caught it.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked. David had to step away, turning back to the mirror to fiddle with his hair. He had thought being the dirty little secret was behind him, but he really liked Patrick. If this was what it took to be with him, so be it.

“Mmm, fine,” David managed. He watched Patrick’s reflection out of the corner of his eye. A small, worried line formed between his brows.

“I’m sorry if I said or did something upset you,” he started, but David cut him off.

“It’s fine, Patrick,” he sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose to keep from crying. His eyeliner had turned out really fucking good. He kind of hated it right now. “If you don’t want people to know, that’s. It’s fine, okay?” Patrick’s mouth turned down, eyes going wide and sad.

“David, no,” he said, hand coming to rest on David’s elbow. “I just didn’t know how much you had told her and I know Alexis gets under your skin sometimes. I was trying to respect your privacy.” As David’s expression softened, Patrick grew more teasing. “We can tell the whole town if you want. I’ll go ask Stevie to get the word out right now.” He moved towards the door and David sighed with fond exasperation, looping his arms around Patrick’s neck.

“Mmm, I don’t think we need to resort to such extremes just yet,” David said. Patrick grinned, running his hands along David’s sides as he leaned in. David melted into the kiss, relief flooding him. Patrick wanted this, wanted him.

“David?” Patrick asked tentatively, grabbing the eyeliner off the sink. “Will you do mine?” David looked him over, woolen socks, denim jeans, loose cotton shirt. It was more modern than some, but still traditional, a selection of natural fibers.

“Why would you,” David trailed off.

“It’s part of your ritual, isn’t it, yours and Alexis’?” Patrick looked David over like he was something worthy of admiration. “I want to be a part of that, David.”

“Oh,” David breathed, “well, look up, then.” He took the pencil and drew it across his lower lashes. Patrick’s eyes fell closed and he repeated the motion on the upper ones.

“Thank you, David.” Patrick leaned in to kiss him once he had finished.

“Mmm, well, don’t thank me yet,” David said, “you haven’t even seen it.”

“I don’t need to.” Patrick pressed a kiss to David’s cheek. “I trust you,” he said, turning to open the door. He reached for David’s hand, interlacing their fingers as they joined Alexis to finish getting ready.

#sc fic #schitts creek #david x patrick #david rose #patrick brewer #magicAU #witches #alexis rose

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christianslaterreview · 5 years

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Way of the Wicked (2014) dir. Kevin Caraway

Synopsis:

Christian Slater portrays an excommunicated priest who has been tracking and studying a young man named Robbie after Robbie mysteriously killed one of his peers when they were both children. Father Henry (Slater) believes Robbie to be an incarnation of some cosmic and spiritual Evil that he subsequently dedicates five years of his life to researching. Vinnie Jones, portraying the town's local detective, joins forces with Father Henry to stop Robbie from wreaking demonic havoc after Robbie becomes the prime suspect in a murder of a local high school boy.

Review:

Christian Slater's ability to give a convincing performance despite a total lack of compelling dialogue, well developed characters, engaging cinematography, and an overall concise and trackable plot was the only small mercy that helped make this 1 1/2 hour film feel like 3hrs instead of 6.

My first disappointment was how little screentime Slater actually got during the course of the movie. With his face displayed on every poster and with every summary claiming Slater "stars" in the film, Slater probably only got about ten minutes of screen time total. Although every character felt entirely undeveloped even by the third act, Father Henry, despite being one of the characters with the most narrative potential, was regrettably left by the wayside for much of the film; only hopping on screen for a minute or two at a time to help quickly advance the plot. Every brief scene he was in his only purpose was to toss convenient morsels of context and information for the rest of the characters to wax expositional about in the next few scenes.

Father Henry is the first face that we see in the movie, but he spends the first and second act being a peeping Tom; never fully in shot and spying on all the other characters through leaves just to make sure the audience hasn't forgotten this character that has yet to be useful.

It's only after the plot begins to accelerate that Father Henry steps in with information about the evil entity, which the audience should have been provided in the beginning. Slater portrays one of the most interesting characters in the movie, but none of it is ever explored or used as a narrative point of view to create emotional stakes. We find out that Father Henry was exiled from the church (probably for his beliefs about Robbie) and has spent the last five years of his life consumed by his obsession with Robbie. But none of this is mentioned more than in passing! Additionally, he's just a bad fucking researcher, and for someone who should be an "expert" on whatever evil is inside Robbie (or is Robbie?) he sure does get himself easily killed off by being fucking strangled by his garish, solid gold rosary that's 9x bigger than it has to be.

His death scene was supremely disappointing 1) because I never want Christian Slater's characters to die duh, but 2) because it was tensionless, unnecessary, and over in the blink of an eye. His meaningless death only served to seal Father Henry as an impotent, half baked character although he was advertised as being some badass demon killer with explosions going on behind him.

aside: if this movie had focused solely on Father Henry and closely followed his character arc throughout the story, the plot twist reveal and his death would have been so much more emotionally impactful and compelling.

Besides the shortcomings of Father Henry in terms of character development, the writers did the audience a further disservice by making him the sole vehicle by which we get information about the evil.

For instance, when he meets up with detective Elliot he can't provide a clear answer to any one of Elliot's questions nor can he seem to provide any actual evidence of his claims (he just keeps repeating shit about how these "dates line up"). So, after impressing on Elliot that time is running out, he gives the detective volumes of assigned reading to do since he's incapable of explaining what he has devoted five years of his life to.

aside: the complete lack of any indications of organization and research (margin notes, highlights, color coded tabs, a goddamn corkboard with pictures and string) by Father Henry were some of the details this film was missing that made it feel so depthless and cheap.

As I said above, Slater's performance was the saving grace of this movie (only because I love him sm), which really is saying something as there wasn't really a well of rich dialogue or captivating cinematography for him to use (every shot of this movie was so boring and straightforward. The whole thing was visually reminiscent of a reality TV show). All the other actors performances were tolerable and probably would have improved considerably if the script was better. Almost all of the movie is tedious, expositional dialogue, resulting in all the characters feeling rehearsed. I didn't form any kind of attachment to any of the characters because each of them felt so formulaic and contrived. And I know it's not his fault, but I can't take Vinnie Jones seriously with his accent and he'll always ruin every serious role he's in (sowwy Vinnie).

Sadly, the backstory that actually got the most exposé was the obviously cloying backstory of detective Elliot's wife and Heather's mom (whose name we don't even learn) who died when Heather was a child. The mother's death does become relevant late in the third act of the film, but its reason is as convoluted and half baked as the rest of the film.

Which I think is my main issue with this movie: there is no trackable plot, defined stakes, or clear point of view. The movie begins with a scene that takes place while Robbie is still a boy, right after the murder of one of his peers. Father Henry opens the film by questioning Robbie and his mother about the incident, clearly convinced that Robbie murdered the other boy with his powers. After the opening, I was expecting the movie to follow Father Henry throughout. Showing us his research, giving us a consistent storyline to follow, providing us with a character to invest in to give the film more depth, etc. But no, the plot jumps forward in time five years (the time jump also wasn't super clear to me, but that could have just been because I was high) when Robbie has moved back into town and then jumps back and forth between Heather's, detective Elliot's, and Father Henry's respective storylines. The result is jarring cuts and sporadic shifts in pacing. Certain scenes seem to drag on forever although they're contributing nothing to the plot while pivotal moments feel rushed and secondary.

Overall, the plot felt like following the writer's train of thought, darting back and forth between plot points to fill in the holes left earlier. Rather than using Father Henry to establish the signs and clues the audience should be looking out for and following (such as the "two angels"), he just keeps popping up every two scenes to give information we should have had right off the bat. The whole "two angels" shit doesn't come in until the last fucking five minutes of the film, but this crucial part of his research is never explained in the start nor even really at the end. It could have been a clue that would have kept the audience guessing and interested, ultimately setting up the plot twist at the end. But nope, this shit that Father Henry should have memorized like his own address, he can't even bother to explain until the scene before it becomes relevant (if we get even that much notice).

In the end, we're never really given any info from Father Henry about what precisely this Evil is, why it chose Robbie, what ancient texts predict it, or even what the hell this demon thing wants. The stakes just seem to be that Robbie's going to do somethin' bad. He isn't even given a lazy motivation like "he wants to end the world" or "he needs a womb to spawn his demon army." We literally have no clue what the specific stakes are, which in turn, means that Father Henry and Elliot have no plan on how to stop him. They just kind of stalk Robbie and threaten him. There's no exorcism they need to perform or esoteric ritual they need to perform to banish him to The Demon Realm™️. The only concrete info we're given is that two angels are supposed to be relevant somehow ("one of the stone and one of the flesh") and somehow Father Henry knows the two angels are the stone angel at the cemetery and Heather herself. Unsurprisingly, he does not offer any evidence of why he thinks that is. We also never really know what qualifies as an "angel" since neither Heather nor the statue are celestial benevolent beings. This is one of the many things that could have been established at the start of the film, giving the audience a puzzle to solve.

And then there's the plot twist.

The plot twist you had to know was coming because this film had no choice but to make one last, desperate grab for the audience's imagination within the last two minutes. Ooooh shit ooo ahhhwooww oh fuck hoooo mybiggiantbrain is explodinggg because Heather was the Evil THE WHOLE TIME AHHHHHH !!!!!

This is the shit that really offends me. I can't believe the audience is deliberately mislead with zero clues that allude to the truth and then we're shit all over with a cheap underwhelming plot twist that never previously existed in the story or actors' performances until the moment of the reveal. If you're gonna do a plot twist, you have to unveil the story in front of the audiences eyes while sincerely attempting to mislead them, all while giving them a chance to discover the twist for themselves! Audiences don't like being tricked, they like being surprised.

God knows I love going back and trying to find all the things I missed that I could have noticed the first time around. Even better, I love when I pick up on them and end up predicting it correctly.

But in Way of the Wicked, the audience isn't given any of this. From the start, the story is played out exactly like Robbie is the anti-christ (or whatever), and the audience who hasn't been given any information, has no choice but to blindly believe the director. But in the end, our trust is shit all over and our intelligence insulted by a cheap "gotcha" ploy that we didn't even have a chance of besting. Even worse, the plot twist adds nothing to the story or the characters at all. Already I don't care about any of them because we've barely gotten to know anyone, so I still don't care about the plot twist because I was never invested to begin with.

Then literally a minute after the reveal, the movie "wraps up" and it's curtains. Detective Elliot straight up murders Robbie and the only tying up of that loose end we get is him nearly inaudibly explaining to another officer that it was self defense as we zoom out into an arial shot. And that's it. We have no idea how Elliot deals with his daughter being a fucking demon or if Heather's mom's death had anything to do with it or not.

This actually could have been an interesting story and it probably could have actually been a horror movie as Way of the Wicked was advertised (lmao) if they had any idea how to organize a plot, write dialogue, and create compelling visuals. Instead Kevin Carraway gave us a teen drama about a young woman navigating a life in high school after the death of her mother, which just so happens to take place while this wild af demon shit be happening.

Way of the Wicked gets a total of 0 Slaters out of a possible 10 Slaters. For no fault of Christian's by any means though. I was prepared to give it 3 Slaters but then they killed off Father Henry so I was pissed whoops

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bumblingbrujo · 6 years

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Blood Brothers

Miguel can only run from Lilo for so long.

@ianncardero, @lilo-el-lobo

Night was starting to fall again, but Miguel just couldn't bring himself to stay inside. There were plenty of people out there who needed help. And he could help. So he kept wandering, fresh out of potions, feeling all the tumultuous fear and confusion and rage that he tried to ignore or stuff down deep into his stomach. He knew at least a few people were safe at the Savin Estate, though he didn't know where Iann and Lilo were. Both worried him for very different reasons.

Lilo was ashamed and licking his wounds quite literally. The deep shame hanging on his shoulders wasn't over his actions, chasing friends, turning neighbors into enemies and prey; it was that he failed. He let them escape. If it wasn't for his damn leg he'd have the taste of fresh magic blood in his mouth, quench this painful need for destruction. His breath came heaving and strained as he pulled himself up and waited for the bruises to heal. Nose pointed in air, catching a hint of fear and familiarity he stalked out into the streets, keeping to the shadows and corners of alleys. Edging and silent as he looked for his prey.

Miguel didn’t have a course of action so much as restless legs. He walked, healing anyone he saw that needed help. Although there were more bodies than injuries. If this was a normal occurrence in Soapberry Springs then how did they keep the population up?

Lilo finally caught sight of what he wanted. Head lowering for his eyes to fixate on the prize, the man who blinded him. His brother, weak thing that he was, it was insulting the pitiful healing magic did so much to deter the predator. Now he'd get even. That meant ignoring the easy targets... or maybe they could prove to be useful.

It took only a few minutes for Lilo to find what he was looking for, someone injured unable to move but still conscious. They recoiled in horror as he came near. The werewolf held his finger to his lips and drug the wounded weakling into an alley before giving his final instructions. "Call out for help, wail and cry and whine you are injured but if you don't want to die, don't tell the healer I am here." Lilo slid to hide behind a dumpster that would mask his scent, not that Miguel could tell. Instinct was instinct, and the trap was set.

Miguel heard a cry and it sounded desperate. He ran toward the voice and found someone with a broken leg and a stomach fat too open. He knelt immediately and checked their insides for moisture. If they had been laying out there like for for too long... “Easy, easy, I’m a healer I’ll help you.”

The human whimpered, but out of fear kept from mentioning the werewolf that dragged them there. His eyes only widened as a hulking figure stepped out from it's hiding place. Creeping ever closer behind the preoccupied witch. Tears fell from the humans eyes as they continued to stare and try to work up the courage to say anything.

The fear in Miguel’s stomach bubbled up to his throat where he couldn’t fight it and he turned around, just a glance at first but that was enough. There was his monstrous brother, half transformed and angry. “Lilo-!” He skittered away from the injured man, he wished for a moment that he could help but the severed intestines spoke otherwise.

Lilo rumbled deep in his chest, what passed for laughter with the werewolf that was stuck halfway between animal and man. "Hey little brother." Lilo pressed in close, cutting off Miguel's potential exit. His head cocking to the side. "You look well."

Miguel's (metaphorical) hackles rose. "I'm older than you," he snapped. He was done with the warnings, Lilo had been tracking him, had set up a trap for him. Miguel didn't think there was much of sweet protective Lilo in there to reason with. So instead of trying to talk his hands lit up with the radiant fire and he grit his teeth.

Lilo tossed his head back, the rumble returning with little yipping gasps of air. He was having fun with this and it was terrifying. But he snapped to attention, jaw set and teeth bared. His claws dug into Miguel's shoulders, ignoring the fire that singed his fear. "You're still so tiny though. Hermano." He growled, snapping his jaws toward his pinned prey.

Iann couldn't stay up on the roof of Stonefruit with Wendy forever. He was getting antsy even up there, and listening to the groans and threats from the selkie was driving him nuts. He almost killed her, and that was when Iann knew he needed to get away from her. Making sure she was well-shaded and she'd been fed and taken care of between himself and Ruby, Iann then headed out. But this time, he didn't head out bare-handed. Despite Iann hardly if ever using weaponry in his life, Iann did gather a bunch of equipment from his basement, things he kept mostly for rituals and 'just in case' scenarios. For other people to use. For fighters to use, if needed. This time, Iann equipped himself. It didn't even take him long to find company though - in the form of his two apparent brothers. The yipping from Lilo was repulsive, horrifying, and yet Iann just snorted derisively at it. The wolf was going to kill the witch...and somehow Iann couldn't bring himself to care. This was Miguel's fault, after all. Miguel swept into town, some sort of mini-Iann, and proclaiming them all siblings. It made Iann sick to think about sharing blood with them.

Miguel winced and sent a shot of healing magic through his own shoulder, it dulled the pain and closed the wound as Miguel scampered away from Lilo. He couldn't get far. "We're both short. At least we usually are." He was starting to get tired, and the exhaustion pushed back the anger. "Lilo what the fuck are you doing? What would Addie think if she saw this?" He went back to the talking plan, if Lilo hadn't tried to kill him yet, maybe he could be reasoned with. Or maybe he was just playing with Miguel before killing him.

Lilo growled in a rage, his prey slipping from him again. He lumbered toward Miguel, not bothering to all out chase. His heavy muscled shoulders swinging as he lashed out. "Don't you talk. Stop." His claws aimed for his brother's throat. "Get my daughter's name out of your mouth." Reason was gone, as were any familial ties that had been so freshly woven between them. Miguel was enemy, prey, food. Lilo wanted no more twisty words or spells coming from the witch's mouth.

Miguel narrowly avoided getting his throat ripped out, but in the process he fell on his ass with a thud and a twist of pain through his spine. It would have been nothing if there wasn't a werewolf above him. He tried to muster the anger he needed for the fire, but all he had was fear. He felt like shaking apart, not like the divine witch he would need to be to keep doing radiant spells. "You stop! Why are you doing this? The moon? You're better than the moon Lilo!"

Iann came closer, almost eager to see what would happen. He didn't care if Lilo scented him, or if Miguel saw him. Unlike Iann normally, who balked at violence, Iann now looked hungry for it, eager to see it inflicted on others. Not River, she was already dead and there was nothing he could do about that now. But seeing the young selkie covered in blood - seeing that man with his guts hanging out, seeing all the death and destruction around him, Iann was completely desensitized to it. And he just wanted more. Also maybe to have sex in that gore, because that would be kind of hot in the dirtiest possible way.

Lilo growled in triumph. Falling upon Miguel, one hand out to pin him against the ground. "You don't really know me brother." He knelt, prosthetic splayed outward to the side. He lifted the other arm up so his sharp claws were illuminated by the red light of the moon. They were blood soaked and ready to be used again. "I've killed plenty before this moon hermano. I've tasted blood and loved it. Years I have forgot myself and it's only now that I remember what I am. I am a wolf." He breathed, face drawing close to Miguel's. "What are you?"

Miguel was vaguely aware that whatever came out of his mouth next may well be the last thing that came out of his mouth ever. It was a lot of pressure to come up with last words that might mean something. And even if they didn't mean anything now, they might mean something once the blood moon set and things went back to relative normal... when Lilo had enough functioning brain to think about what he'd done. He thought briefly about the obvious, which would be stating his witch-hood. Something that he didn't need to do when he lived the way he did. Instead he closed his eyes and sighed. "Soy tu hermano," he said softly before falling backward into acceptance and gritting his teeth, waiting for a lot of pain or oblivion.

Lilo howled, long and foreboding before it trailed off into a snarl. He bent his head down and down. Maw open and closing around Miguel's throat. It was like a perversion of a lover's kiss; out all the little love nips he peppered Cassie's neck with this felt far more satisfying. Sharp teeth drove into the skin, warm red blood bubbled up around the seal Lilo made with his mouth. He clamped down and tore, sinews and strings of the vocal chords ripped away. A stringy gorey mess as the raw wound filled with deep red blood. In the moonlight it all looked black.

#death cw #blood cw #violence cw #graphic descriptions cw #iann #lilo #chatzy

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