#i couldn't fathom that right now. i simply wouldn't be able to do it :(

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 42: SEX TAPE

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Extreme Smut

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

The following morning, when you stumbled into the living room, you noticed that your dress had been hung up over one of the armchairs neatly and that there was no sign of Kit. It looked like she had packed up and left without saying goodbye, causing you a mix of relief and concern simultaneously. Relief, because your unease around her presence eased somewhat, and concern, because something about her sudden departure struck you as odd. Nonetheless, you decided to put these worries aside temporarily and focused on preparing for the day ahead.

You made some coffee and took a seat beside the window to read through Cillian's latest script, knowing that he wouldn't mind. Cillian himself was still sleeping peacefully, clearly exhausted from last night's chaos. He deserved a rest. Taking in the view outside, you felt grateful for the serene silence surrounding you. However, amidst the tranquility, there was an eerie sense of loneliness hanging in the air. It dawned on you then that even amidst Cillian's fame and success, his life was far from perfect and neither was yours.

You had recently received some letters from the department of immigration, reminding you that your visa was going to run out within six months and, unless you found a suitable employer who was willing to sponsor you, you knew that you had to return to the US. 

Unbeknownst to Cillian, you had spent countless sleepless nights wracking your brain, trying to come up with ways to prolong your stay in Ireland, yet nothing came close to materialising just yet. Feeling guilty and fearful of burdening Cillian with your problems, you resolved to wait patiently for the opportune moment to confide in him about this issue but it like as though he had bigger issues to deal with right now as, suddenly, his manager knocked on the door.

"Up so early?" you asked after having opened the door for Ben, who was in his sixties and exhausted from last night's BAFTAs. 

"Yes. Where is Cillian?" he asked immediately, and almost rudely, just as Cillian stumbled out of the bedroom, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. 

"Good morning, Ben" Cillian said with a yawn, rubbing his eyes. "Anything interesting?" he wondered, seeing that Ben usually liked to sleep in past nine. 

"Interesting might be putting it lightly," Ben replied worryingly. "There's some bad news coming our way, unfortunately," he explained, and Cillian's brows furrowed. 

"Oh, really? What sort of bad news?" Cillian asked, sitting down opposite Ben. His curiosity piqued instantly.

Ben glanced nervously across the table at Cillian before breaking the unsettling news.

"So, this morning, I was informed that there's this video on the internet now, featuring you engaging in explicit sexual acts," Ben explained, causing Cillian to choke on his cup of coffee. 

Hearing those dreadful words, Cillian froze, unable to believe what he heard. His face drained of color as his world crumbled beneath him.

"What?" Cillian croaked hoarsely, scarcely able to find words. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still – reality suspended, disbelief palpable in every cell of his body. He couldn't fathom why someone would do such a thing, seeking vengeance perhaps? Or simply to exploit his celebrity status? Regardless, the thought of this sordid act being public knowledge sent waves of panic coursing through his veins.

"Am I on the video too?" you asked a little calmer than Cillian, but still confused.

"Unfortunately, not, because if you were, you at least could give a statement together when shit hits the fan,"

Ben answered bitterly, his voice dripping with fatigue. His eyes fell onto you briefly, conveying sorrow and compassion. There wasn't much more to add—this was indeed terrible news.

"Then who is on the video? Do you have a copy of it? I mean, is it even me on the video or is it photoshopped?" Cillian queried, barely containing his anxiety as his head swirled with questions. 

"Oh, it's you and you seem rather drunk too, man. This is much worse than the public urination incident," Ben scoffed sarcastically, attempting to defuse the situation slightly as he handed him his phone. 

Despite Ben's efforts to alleviate the gravity of the situation, it did little to comfort Cillian, who remained gripped by terror. All manner of scenarios ran rampant through his mind; all of them potentially damning to his reputation and career.

Reluctantly, he clicked on the video while you sat by his side, hoping fervently that none of it was true. But as the footage began playing, he realized the unimaginable truth: yes, there he was, captured in all his vulnerability.

He could hardly breathe as he watched himself perform intimate acts, oblivious to the fact that they were being recorded. Each stroke of his hand, each whisper, etched themselves indelibly onto his memory, forever marring the sanctity of the most private moments he had ever known. His face flushed crimson with shame, regret surging through his veins like lava.

Seeing him have sex with another woman brought back memories of painful rejections and broken promises.

Your own heart plummeted as well, imagining how it must feel to discover such a compromising video was released online. It didn’t matter how innocently it happened; everything had become muddled, cloudy in your eyes.

The sound of your breath quickened, mirroring the rapid pulse throbbing against his temple. The heat radiating off his skin intensified, giving credibility to the choking sensation rising inside his chest.

"Turn it off!" you choked, holding back tears. "Kit did this and the fact that you had sex with a woman like this makes me ill," you cried, incredulous at the idea of betrayal running deeper than anything you had previously witnessed. Even though your heart ached for Cillian, your rage mounted as you remembered the snarky remarks, the condescending attitude, and the calculated ambition simmering beneath the surface whenever you interacted with Kit. And now, she had stooped so low, trading in the privacy of others like currency.

"She wouldn't..." he began to say, struggling to maintain composure as you interrupted him.

"Yes, she fucking would and you are too blind to see it. Do you know how she talks to me? The things she tells me, Cillian? You have no idea how vile this woman is," you broke down.

Your jaw clenched tightly, feeling anger and frustration seething beneath your calm exterior. In spite of your turmoil, however, you knew that venting this rage directly toward Cillian would accomplish nothing except further strain already fraught relations. So instead, you turned your attention away from him for a fleeting moment, taking stock of the situation at large.

"What do you think Ben?" Cillian finally managed to utter after watching the video, trying hard to regulate his pounding heart rate. As if in response to his question, Ben let out a heavy sigh, reaching for his glass of water which sat on the nearby coffee table. With a quiet murmur, he drank deeply from the glass, his expression grimacing with disapproval and pity for his client and friend.

"Well, we need to handle this swiftly and decisively, my boy", Ben advised sternly, looking straight into Cillian's eye.

"First, we contact everyone involved – the media, any potential legal representatives and Kit," Ben said and, with reluctance, Cillian nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

A torrent of conflicting emotions cascaded over you in that moment, leaving you raw and exposed, nauseous with anxiety.

"I am sorry, I..." you interrupted them, feeling nauseous again, just like last night, before disappearing into the bathroom momentarily.

Upon returning, you noticed Cillian wiping his eyes vigorously, struggling to process the magnitude of his predicament. Your hearts continued to beat in tandem, the rhythm matching the crescendo of anger and despair mounting within both of you. Cillian reached out towards you instinctively, grasping your hands tightly, needing something tangible to anchor him during these tumultuous times.

"I am sorry this happened," he apologized sincerely, fully aware of his responsibility in this whole mess. 

"It's not your fault. I mean, yes, you slept with her after we had broken up and it's pretty awful for me to watch you have sex with another woman, but I can't really be angry at you for something you did when we weren't together," you tried to rationalise, doing your best to suppress the jealousy burning hotter inside.

Cillian took a deep breath, letting out a shaky exhale as he attempted to compose himself. "You are perfect, you know that?" he spoke softly, stroking your cheek tenderly. The warmth from his touch offered solace amidst the storm.

Inside his head, he struggled with guilt and remorse over his transgressions, yet the genuine concern evident in his gaze was enough to quell the nagging doubt clawing at the corners of your mind.

Understanding your insecurities, he held you closer, drawing strength from your steadfast presence while Ben made several calls in order to get the video taken down.

"I think a statement from you would be helpful here," he said gravely, gesturing towards Cillian who usually hated talking to the press and, together with his publicist, they prepared exactly this. A detailed statement in which, finally, Cillian threw Kit under the bus after receiving critical information from the agency's team that the video had indeed been linked back to Kit's IP address.

"Who knows what else she is responsible for," Ben said recalling several articles which had been released ever since you came into the pictures as well as past cheating allegations which drove a wedge into Cillian's and Danielle's already fragile marriage at the time. 

As your resentment escalated, so did your desire to confront Kit. Yet, the very notion terrified you, fearing retaliation or further humiliation. After discussing with Ben about the plan of action, including approaching law enforcement and issuing statements, you retreated to bedroom where you laid curled around yourself, wrestling with your demons once more.

Perhaps Kit was right when she said that you were not cut out for this life, that you were naïve and idealistic compared to those who frequented these circles. However, despite your doubts, it seemed impossible to escape the pull of this world.

Hearing the front door open and close, followed by familiar steps entering the room, pulled you out of your introspection. Turning towards Cillian, you saw him pale with exhaustion and worry as he approached the bed.

Reaching out for your hand, he gave it a firm squeeze. "We will make it through this," he promised earnestly, offering some measure of comfort in this chaos.

"I am not too worried about, well, the obvious, I suppose. But I am worried about how this will affect us, because I love you so fucking much," Cillian

confessed passionately, wrapping his arms around you protectively. His eyes reflected an intensity of emotion, conveying profound gratitude for your unwavering support during this challenging period.

Unable to form coherent words due to the lump in your throat, you simply leaned into him, allowing the solidarity of his embrace to offer consolation and respite. There was still so much left undiscovered about one another, yet somehow, this shared experience only brought you even closer together.

"I love you too Cillian, beyond anything I could possibly imagine. This thing with Kit won't change that," you assured him, intertwining your fingers with his, seeking solace in his unwavering affection.

"And neither should it," Cillian replied solemnly, kissing your forehead gently. 

"I did watch the entire video. It wasn't very long but I noticed something stubble," you then admitted shamelessly to break the ice, avoiding direct eye contact. Despite being repulsed by the incident itself, curiosity got the better of you, wanting to understand why someone would record themselves having intimate encounters without permission.

"And what is that?" Cillian asked suspiciously, intrigued by your observation.

"You said my name, not hers," you explained carefully, choosing your words delicately, causing Cillian to smile.

"I thought about you, obviously," Cillian added reassuringly, his face flush from embarrassment.

There was an awkward silence before Cillian continued, "You do something to me that I can't quite comprehend, but you already know that, don't you?"

You giggled lightheartedly, grateful for his sense of humor. Gripping onto his arm tighter, you felt the weight of his words sink into your soul. "Yes, I do. I have you wrapped right around my finger, Mr Murphy" you expressed genuinely, appreciating his vulnerability.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

[adrianasunderworld]

🪶Welcome Dreary🪶

A relative of Crowley's comes knocking for help.

Edit: I realized I made a minor mistake with the mention of an aunts name. Nothing major, just an fyi. The unfortunate matter of the name theme is they sometimes blend together lol

~~~

She flinched at the creak of the old window as it opened in the silent night. After a moment of holding her breath, there was no sign of her mother, who had gone to bed hours before, but still the fear she would be found was there.

There wasn't much to bring, thankfully, very few of her belongings mattered all that much. If it couldn't be hidden under the floorboards or in the back of a closet, it didn't matter. A dress from her brother, her favorite book, a childhood toy. Whatever she could not bear to leave was put into one bag.

With a deep breath, white wings sprouted as she flew out the open window, leaving the house behind.

***

"Coming." The Headmage opened the door to his private quarters and was shocked to see a face he had not seen in many years. "Dreary?"

His young cousin smiled shyly from beneath her hood. "Hello Dire."

***

"Why? That's all I want to know, why?"

Dreary looked down, wringing her hands in her lap. "You know my mother, that should be self explanatory." She said quietly, not looking up.

"No that I understand," Dire shivered at the thought of his Aunt Dreadful. The woman certainly lived up to her name. "My question is why me? We have so many relatives you could have gone to. I haven't seen you since you were still learning to walk, surely I wasn't the first choice."

"Most of them are scared of Mother," Dreary replied, still not looking up, hands still fidgeting in her lap. She seemed so small in that arm chair, like she was waiting for the cushions to swallow her whole. "No one was going to take me in. I would have gone to my brothers, but that's the first place she would look for me. So Aunt Despair suggested-"

"- that you come here because Dread wouldn't be able to fathom you coming all the way here." Dire finished. The moment he heard his other aunts name, he knew there was no getting out of it.

Despair had helped him leave all those years ago, and now she had sent another little bird away from her sister's nest. As Dreary sat in the chair, Dire felt a familiar feeling of wanting to escape. He had left his aunt's house because he could not take it anymore, just like Dreary.

He sighed. “Fine. You can stay.”

She finally looked up, bright yellow eyes wide, “Really!?”

“Yes, but if you’re going to stay here, you will be attending school, you’re a child after all.”

Dreary lept up from her seat and hugged the taller man. “Thank you, thank you!”

Dire awkwardly returned the gesture. “Yes yes, I know, I’m so generous.”

***

“Prefect! I have a surprise!” came the voice of the Headmage from the porch.

“Oh goody,” Isabelle opened the door to Crowley and was surprised to see a girl that appeared to be her age right beside him.

The girl shyly waved, “Hello,”

“Hi…?” Isabelle looked to the man for an explanation.

Crowley cheerfully went on, either oblivious or willfully ignoring the girl's confusion. “I’ve brought you a new roommate!”

“Wait what? What do you mean a roommate? I don’t-”

Crowley simply walked past Isabelle and simply motioned for the girl to follow. The girl at least had the decency to look apologetic. “Yes, roommate! The rest of the dorms are all male, so I can’t possibly have Dreary live in one, so Ramshackle is officially an all girls dorm.”

“Hey! I’m not a girl!” Grim whined from where he was sitting on the stairs.

“Yes well…” Crowley paused and decided to move on. "Miss Isabelle, a moment please."

Crowley ushered her into the kitchen. Isabelle crossed her arms as the door closed. "What is going on?"

"Please, just cooperate."

"That doesn't tell me why you expect me to live with some random girl I've never met before. What if she's secretly an axe murderer? I refuse to get killed in my own dorm."

"She is not a murderer! Look. Dreary is my cousin, she left a…less than desirable home life, and I thought attending school would do her some good. You're a nice girl that makes friends wherever you go. Besides the obvious lack of a girls dorm, I think you can bring Dreary out of her shell."

Isabelle had gotten used to Crowleys nonsense over the past few months. But there was genuine in the way the man spoke this time around that gave her pause. "What? No coercion? No bribery to get your way?"

He sighed. "Isabelle, I'm perfectly serious here. Dreary needs a place, and I think this will be good for her. So please, make her feel welcome."

Wordlessly, Isabelle opened the kitchen door to see Grim talking about the rules of the dorm, which mostly consisted of handing over snacks to him. "Welcome to Ramshackle, Dreary. I'm Isabelle, your prefect. Let's find you a room."

Crowley looked pleased with this turn of events, his shoulders visibly relaxing. "I'll leave you to settle then. Dreary, come find me later so we can sort out your uniform."

"Yes, Dire."

After he had left, Isabelle motioned for her to follow up the stairs and show her some of the vacant rooms. "This is where Grim and I sleep. There's a good sized one down the hall here you might like."

"Thank you for agreeing to let me stay. I know this was sudden, and I'm very sorry for the inconvenience. I'm quiet, really, you'll barely know I'm here."

Isabelle waved her concern off. "Don't worry about it, you didn't do anything wrong. As long as we're all nice to each other there won't be a problem."

"Right. And I promise I'm not an axe murderer either."

"...you heard that?"

"Yes…it was kinda funny honestly. Dire is just worried. Don't hold it against him."

"I won't. So what was your old school like?" Isabelle asked, hoping to break the ice. She didn't want to pry into the home life she had left right off the bat.

"I've only had private tutors. So I'm very new to this whole school with peers thing. So Dire thought it would do me some good to attend while I stayed with him."

"Well, I'm here to help you if you aren't sure. I'll introduce you to the guys at dinner later."

Dreary smiled. "I'm looking forward to it." Her eyes caught a glimpse at the reading nook Isabelle had set up with her small collection of book she had collected since starting school. "Are these all yours?"

"Yep. I help in the library a lot, so the librarian lets me take extra books with me."

Dreary rifled through her bag and took out an old copy of a book titled The Wild Boy. "I like reading too! This is my favorite."

As Isabelle flipped through the book while Dreary excitedly looked over her collection, she grinned. They were going to get along just fine.

#twisted wonderland #twst oc #miss yuu #twst yuu #dire crowley #twst dire crowley #dreary crowley #isabelle rosa

[cloudwhisper23]

Okay, okay. For whatever reason, the ask I got earlier makes me want to keep rambling aimlessly. Y'all don't have to listen, but feel free if you want. Spoilers for my fic "There Are Others" ahead.

The interesting thing is that I don't always plan for characters to die. I didn't intend for Mikayla to get kidnapped, but I felt that William Afton would not be the type to let someone he considered valuable, get away. Of course, most of the deaths have actually been planned. If they hadn't, Jeremy probably would've died alongside the others when they went on their rescue mission. I had no idea how I was going to make those three die before, but the intent was always to kill them.

But later on, it got a little more complicated. The more I drifted from canon, the easier it was to simply think, "this character doesn't have to die" for characters that definitely died in canon. But in some cases, it still becomes necessary. Like, when I decided that the alternate Evan wouldn't die, it was not a conscious decision. It was just the direction the fic took. If that alternate version had died, the result would've probably been much more interesting; however, that wasn't what the story needed (in my opinion).

I don't just kill characters for the sake of killing characters. Yes, it seems like that is exactly what I have been doing, but I'm not just giving characters plot armor. I'm killing characters that are either needed as ghosts or that must die in order to prompt other events.

For example: Gregory's death. Yes, we're in the 1993 era of the timeline right now, but somehow I've managed to kill Gregory off already. But the distinction I've been making is to call him "another Gregory" because the main time is in fact 27 years before he's actually born. The other Gregory had to die. Why? That's the question I've been getting since I posted that chapter. Gregory died, and Cassidy grieved. But he had to die, otherwise there was nothing to damage Cassidy's belief.

She thinks that everything will be over with Afton's death. Or, at least, she did. She knows more now. Less than Charlie or Old Man Consequences, but she knows. She knows the killings continue. And she won't rest until he's gone for good. The others will attempt to move on. Evan will attempt to move on. But Cassidy, our second "vengeful spirit" will not. She will challenge Evan's decision to leave the world behind.

And that's something I hadn't originally considered. Gregory wasn't a planned death, not originally, but since he died, the story can flow more smoothly. It explains why Cassidy can't move on while Evan can. In most normal fnaf fics, Cassidy is the furious one, but in mine? She's just another victim. One who blames herself for not being able to save the missing children, one who can't let go of the fact that she couldn't save Evan. But she wasn't nearly on the level of rage that Evan was.

Y'all remember the scene where Purple Guy gets springlocked, right? Cause I look back on it, and I can never fathom why the kids vanished. That implied that they moved on. But if they had moved on, and the phantoms were just our security guard's overactive imagination, then it would make more sense to me. I won't be having the phantoms be the same animatronics. It doesn't fit to me.

But to someone who knew what had been going on with the kids, it makes sense that they'd remember the ghosts as the animatronics. However, this rules out Michael, Mikayla, Becky, and Jeremy as security guards who can see the phantoms. So, who is it?

I've indicated that I won't be following canon as closely now. But it's still a helpful guideline. I'll follow it when I think it's necessary to, yet I won't be directly using it. Afton gets springlocked? Canon, and in the story. Michael gets scooped at the end of SL? Canon, but not in the story, although Michael does get scooped, he does not turn purple.

I guess I'm saying that it's anyone's guess what happens at this point. I still gotta figure out what happens for thirty years before Gregory is born and fnaf 3 begins. But I'll have plenty of time to figure that out because my fic may end at the end of the fnaf 1 arc.

Not that I mean I plan not to continue! I just have feel so conflicted. Irl, I've never finished a story, and I am getting pressure to do so. If I end it here, then I can say I have. And then, I can sort out what happens for the next thirty years, as I have to explain some of my loose ends.

Haha, loose ends before Pizza Sim. I can do a second extended arc, although that would mean the third part is mostly- Wait, that's spoilers. Ah, I'll leave it for now. Tbh, I originally planned for the story to end after fnaf 3. Not the final closing, but the end in a certain sense. Even though it's not the souls of the missing children that move on at this point. (Again, spoilers).

But I should cut this rant short, unless anyone wants to know about the spoilers. I am free enough to give them, but I won't post them without being asked. You must prompt me to do so because idk who's been reading or what your thoughts are right now. I don't get much feedback, if I'm honest. And that's okay!! I just can't get any sort of gauge on my readers right now, so I am uncertain what I should share at this point.

Thanks for listening, if you read down this far. I'll be drifting, and my ask box is always open.

#cloud speaks #long ramble #ooof #There Are Others #fnaf au rambles #I just really wanted to spout nonsense for a while

[the-thorns-to-your-rose]

Chapter 3

The First Battle

Kean pulled his dark hair into a small ponytail. He adjusted his suit, making sure his weapons were in their places and that he was comfortable. His mind was racing, filling up with the possibilities. He was afraid of what was to come.

His parents assessed him with not an ounce of love in their eyes. They looked over his suit, checked his weapons, and even threw things at him to check his reflexes. He passed all of their tests, each one making him more and more anxious.

"Alright. You've been preparing for this," his mother said.

"Don't let us down."

"Yes, father," Kean replied.

He was terrified. He had never met this evil villain before. Supposedly, he had killed hundreds already. According to his parents' stories, he blew up hospitals and orphanages, killed pregnant ladies and toddlers. Of course, Kean himself had never heard of any of this actually happening, but he knew his parents wouldn't lie to him. Today, he was going to face this monster.

~🌹~🌹~🌹~

Zeike and his moms were playing a card game in the living room. He cheered as he finally beat his ma, who had won seventeen rounds in a row. His mama applauded him, happy to finally see her wife lose. Nelly, however, pouted in fake anger. 

A ring cut through the laughter. Lilliana picked up her phone, then nodded firmly after a few minutes. She notifies Nelly that they have to go, so they ruffle Zeike's hair and tell him not to worry. They tell him they'll be back in a few hours.

Zeike doesn't question anything his moms do. Once they leave, he simply puts the game up and retrieves his training gear. His plan was to train later, but it was clear that now was the right time. 

After about thirty minutes, he truly gets in the zone. He is thinking about nothing but his movements, so lost in his head that he didn't notice someone walk in.

"There you are. I've finally found you, Villain."

~🌹~🌹~🌹~

Zeike swiftly turned around, barely dodging the spiral of flames that was coming towards him. The man ran at him, knife now in hand. Zeike was absolutely terrified, but he knew he had to do something in order to stay alive. He decided to tackle him head-on, which resulted in the knife slashing his side. He felt the blood pouring, but he couldn't focus on that now. 

Kean quickly sent another small burst of flames at his opponent. He had never fought with anyone before, but he knew he didn't want to hurt him too bad. His parents said that killing your opponent immediately was bad. They didn't say why, but he knew he had to listen. When his opponent backed off of him, he saw the blood. He wanted to stop right then and there, but he had his family's reputation to uphold.  

Zeike couldn't fathom why he was being attacked, but he knew those flames anywhere. They were the flames of the Gomez family, flames that had burned his moms so many times. This made him angry. No one messes with his family. After regaining his composure and footing from being burnt, he ran at the supposed hero that had attacked him. He pulled out the gun that his Ma had gotten him for his birthday and was able to shoot the man in the shoulder. Clearly, it didn't do much, since he was still standing.

Kean clutched his shoulder. His parents had made sure he was used to nonfatal gun wounds, but it still hurt. He tried to shoot another blast of flames; however, his injury stopped his power. He threw a small knife; however, it missed by about a foot. He knew he had to retreat, but he knew his parents would be furious. He could already see the looks on their faces, hear the disappointment and anger seeping into their voices, and yet, he knew he had to give up. Black spots began to dance in his vision and his head was swimming. 

"Looks like," Kean managed to say, "you're too weak for me."

"What?"

"I should leave, I find no joy in defeating someone weaker than me." The statement was hard to believe as he walked away, leaning on the wall.

#writers #my story #original story #gay #lgbtq+ #romance story

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Don't Leave Me This Way

Warnings- angst, marital spats, language, a hint of spice

A/N- After a decade together, Honey and Leon have come undone. But on the anniversary of the day their lives changed, Leon decides to mend that. For @forenschik

Part One:

Honey was, in a word, incensed. That Leon would even think about the two of them going out on a weekday bothered her. Then again, at this point in their busy lives going out on ANY day bothered her. But that, Leon told her, was the problem. It was eat, sleep, work, kids, eat, sleep, work, OCCASIONALLY have sex. Throw in Sunny’s growing powers and the odd alternate universe traveller for good measure. That was the rhythm of married life she responded rather dismissively.

Leon took the club scheduling book out of Honey’s hand and held it high above his head where he knew Honey couldn’t fathom reaching it. “How about fuck off with this rhythm of life.”

“LEON!” Honey both whined and raised her voice at her husband as she scrambled to her feet and attempted to climb him. When that didn’t work, and he simply laughed at her and held the book higher, she stood on the desk chair. “How about you go fuck yourself?”

Leon threw the date book. Honey jumped to go after it, but he blocked her move. He held her tight in his arms so she was made to stand still. “Fuck’s sake, I was asking for a date. Now I’m telling you. You’re gonna go upstairs and get ready and put on that sexy purple dress. I’ve packed up The Littles. We’re taking them to your parents, and then we are going to that Italian restaurant you love on Mulberry Street. Then we’re coming home, and you’re getting a right good seeing to.” Before she could protest Leon clamped his hand over her mouth, “Now.”

Honey shockingly obeyed her husband. Her face crimson with anger as she held her chin in the air, arms crossed in front of her chest before throwing up the double finger. In the shower she realized something. It had been so long, and their lives were so busy, that Honey couldn’t discern being mad from being turned on. A lump formed in her throat because she was ashamed. Or disappointed? When was she ever NOT enamored by Leon? Maybe this date was exactly what they needed.

---

“I don't know, I think we should maybe homeschool Sunny. He's not going to have a handle on anything until he's come to the end of what he can do. Maybe we can communally teach him? Selina is fine, she always will be. She could use other normal kids. I think she and Sun are too dependent on each other. They're only six and seven. Usually that level of codependency comes later in life. Like you and Jonathan. I don't know, what do you think?”

Leon watched as his wife took her first breath since their dinners arrived. She swallowed most of her wine before chasing a tortellini around her plate. Her head in one hand like an insolent child instead of a woman in her thirties. Honey looked at Leon expectedly. He took a breath of his own, but she interjected just as he was about to speak.

“They might resent us if we separate though. Sunny needs to feel as normal as possible. They're in Montessori school, so all those kids are bound to be a little strange too. I guess if they were homeschooled you would have to cut back on your classes, and we would have to scale back on bookings.”

Leon clenched his jaw between sips of his bourbon. He stabbed at his dinner, chewed and swallowed while simmering. He sat back with the expectancy that Honey would continue, uninterrupted the same way she had for the last decade. He could feel the simmer start to boil just below the surface while, sure enough, she kept on.

“Punk is just taking off. I know CBGB is where it's at, but Hilly’s been a mensch sending us Patti, Debbie and The Ramones. I know we're still stuck in folk, but I REALLY think it can turn around into rock. There's this outrageous glam or metal or whatever band from LA. Oh! Did you get to hear that demo from the Irish band? Klaus said they're like, one of the biggest bands in the world. I don't know if that would be in our timeline too, but he's onto something. Get in while we can. But who wears sunglass-”

“αρκετά!!” Leon yelled. ENOUGH!

He banged a fist on the table which drew attention from nearby diners. His nostrils flared with anger and embarrassment. While the outburst mortified Leon, he also wouldn't take it back. It was his only means of getting Honey’s attention. And it did.

She sat back with her arms crossed. One eyebrow arched in challenge. Honey was no shrinking violet. She did tend to her grudges like a little garden. If she had to add Leon to it for a little while, so mote it be.

Leon’s face softened, his shoulders sank while he bit into his lip. Then he sat up straight, an air of defiance about him. Before she knew what was happening, Leon slid Honey around the booth with ease so that they sat side by side. He made a bold move when his wife turned away from him.

Leon snuck a hand inside of Honey’s bare thighs. He knew her. Knew she wouldn't be wearing any panties. It wasn't even meant as a tease. She just couldn't with this particular dress. He took advantage of that.

Letting two of his fingers delve inside of his wife, Leon slid them as painfully slow as possible. Her body reacted. It became instantaneously wet allowing him to slip in with ease. He continued in Italian.

“Tesoro mio, non stai zitto da dieci anni. Hai chiesto la mia opinione e io ne ho una.” His fingers pumped faster. One found her clit for a brief moment before abandoning it “Ora sii una brava moglie e lasciami dire la mia.”

My sweet, you haven't shut the fuck up in ten years. You asked for my opinion, and I have one. Now be a good wife and let me have my say.

Honey swallowed oxygen and choked on it. Her heart pounded in places she forgot carried a beat for the man beside her. Her hips shifted forward while she spread her legs to accommodate Leon.

“I'm.. sorry..” her breath came out choppy. “What.. what do you think?”

Leon removed his fingers and draped his arm along Honey’s shoulders. It curled around her neck but with a gentleness. All of the anger dissipated seeing his wife submit to him so easily. That sexual reminder he had as much agency in this marriage as she did.

“I think,” Leon lifted Honey’s chin so her face drew closer. Instead of her lips he kissed her forehead and caught her gaze, “It's time to send the Littles away without us.”

Honey inhaled ready to release a protest. Leon clamped a hand over her mouth. “For longer than a few days at the lake. Or a weekend down at the shore with your sister's kids. Or overnight at your parents place. It's time Yía Yía takes them to Greece.”

Leon felt his wife’s body start to tense. He knew she was processing what he had to say but was prepared to fight him every step of the way. He kept on, “We can take the kids to London, stay a day or two. Then the two of us are going away together for the first time. Not a weekend here. Or a day there. PROPER vacationing just us.”

“We-”

He cut Honey off with a kiss this time. “We can afford to close the club for a while. I love you, and I bloody love our kids. The three of you are my whole fucking world. Don’t you think we’ve gotten a bit lost? It hasn’t been just us since the 60s. You don’t even know what day it is, do you?”

Honey blanked. Her eyebrows knit together as her brain searched back through time to what she may have missed. Why a random day at the end of August was so important. Leon stared at his wife, willing her to remember. He knew she maybe just took it for granted that this instance had always been there. Neither could remember a time when it wasn’t.

Honey’s body deflated. “Oh, Leon.” Hot tears sprang to her eyes which she angrily wiped away. “When HAVEN’T I loved you? I don’t think I was ever able to boil it down to our last time away together. Has it really been ten years? I always thought the moment I saw you was the moment I fell in love. I held you at bay didn’t I?”

Leon used his thumbs to brush the tears away from her cheeks. One traced along her bottom lip before he pushed her hair off her shoulder to kiss it.

"Gracie, look at me." He lifted her chin again so their eyes met. She sniffled. "I think you know that little bits of me and you could scatter across the cosmos, and we would always find one another. It's why we need to get away, the two of us. C'mon, wanna go for a walk?

He stood, laid more money down than necessary, and reached for Honey's hand. She took it but rebuffed the rest, "Leon, it's midnight. It's the hottest summer on record. And someone is murdering women with dark hair and their lovers."

"So?!" She frowned. "Oh bugger off!" he teased. "Klaus said his name's David Berkowitz, and he never goes outside of Queens. I just want to hold my missus's hand and walk beside her a little while. That's all."

How could Honey resist?

Part 2 coming next week 💋

@elliethesuperfruitlover @magic-multicolored-miracle @maerenee930 @nightmonsters @neuroticpuppy @firstpersonnarrator @frogs--are--bitches @rob-private @bisexualnathanyoung @super-unpredictable98 @messengeronthemoon @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @vonkimmeren @duck-noises @feed-davis-and-steve @ghouls-buddy

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #leon x honey #100+ followers event #klaus hargreeves

[yoursinfulurges]

Toxin and Venom

Slight Dark!Peter Parker x Dark!Reader

Description:

In which a seemingly loving relationship appears greater than it is...

There was something rather terrible about this young man's naive exterior. Though nobody could pinpoint where exactly the dreadfulness laid. His eyes shined a little too brightly, and his words were coated in thick sugar, enough to appear disingenuous to the skillfully trained ears. But there hidden behind is smile concealed the sinister morals of a true manipulator.

Oh' but she was no better herself, twisting words to favour her narrative. Playing as if she was nothing more than a meek little prey.

Warnings: pure angst with an underlining layer of toxicity.

Disclaimer: This is a REWRITE of one of my old stories dated back to a year ago, so if it sounds familiar that is why. This story was originally written for Jung Jaehyun from NCT but seeing as though I've fallen out of love with kpop at the moment, I wanted to repurpose it for my new followers that I've harbored since The Venom Within, as I'm very proud of the way it was written and concluded that I wanted to share with you all. I did improve and change quite a lot so you won't be reading the exact same story and I decided to add a twist to it.

Note: This is more so a college au so the fact that Peter is Spiderman is insignificant...

Word Count: 4.k

_____________

Your boyfriend, Peter, had always been the most kind and caring person you knew. Ever since you met him, and even after months of dating, he still acted like the bashful, kind Disney prince you took him for. Only treating you with nothing but respect and admiration; you often wondered if this boy was even capable of making an insult, or had a bad bone in his body. Fore he acts way too nice and sweet for his own good. Controlling at times but it was with all good intentions...

Originally, you thought the kind gestures and lovely sweet talking was his way of subtly flirting, but after years of dating him, you came to the realization that it was just simply him. Peter didn't need to pretend to be kind and sweet like other guys; given that it was like second nature for him. You loved the boy to death. He showered you with so much love, spoiled you with affection. Treated you like his queen; His shining jewel. Out of the two years that you'd been together, not once has he wronged you.

    That is, up until this exact moment...

You stand there in the middle of the kitchen, tears streaming down your cheeks. At this point you had stopped listening to what he was saying. In fear that if you continued to listen to his harsh words, more of your love would begin to fleet away, and you couldn't afford to lose any more. Despite of all your excessive yelling, you loved Peter. And he meant so much to you. But seeing him in this state, angry and hostile, attacking you viciously with his words, you began to question your future with him.

You couldn't quite fathom what brought on this newfound aggression in your relationship. Though, you had a slight seeking suspicion that it was from all the post-exam stress you both had to endure. Weeks upon weeks of studying and sleepless nights finally took its toll on the both of you. Thus bringing you to this exact moment in time. The once loving home corrupted by the harsh spoken words that fell from both of your lips. Anger and aggression filling the room, space welcoming the negativity with open arms. You had both tainted it...

That was not the boy you fell in love with, but instead somebody meaner, a-kind to venom...

Then again, you weren't a saint yourself either, words you wouldn't have ever thought of saying spilled out of your mouth like toxin. You needed to do something fast to mend your relationship back together...

The mere thought of breaking up with the man hurts you so dearly. You just wanted your loving boyfriend back from what ever abyss he dissapeared off to. Typically your fights never lasted this long, but this one proved to be quite challenging. You just wanted him to stop yelling. But in fear of the unthinkable outcome of your protest, you kept shut and held onto the remaining pieces of your heart. You knew for a fact that Peter would never dear to lay a hand on you, so you tried very desperately to push those thoughts aside. However, his following statements made both tasks very difficult. It was as if he was challenging your composure. Like he wanted the flood gates broken.

Like he wanted you to cave in to the malicious voice whispering in your ear...

His words could've very well be from all the stress, ..or pent up insults and remarks that he'd been silently keeping in. You had no way of telling. You prayed and hoped that it was the first one rather than the assuming latter. Because maybe then, you would consider forgiving him. Even though the words punctured you like bullets, penetrating your inner layers and hurting you in more ways than one. This was not your Peter... You questioned the morals behind his words, were they intended to hurt you, or was it just in the heat of the moment. Regardless, you knew that his words would be something that lingered on forever in your head.

"I don't even know why I stayed this long with you, honestly! What do I even see in you! Stop being so unreasonable! You're easily replaceable, so i don't see why you're acting so high and mighty. News flash y/n, i could do a lot better!"

         And there it was...

His current state and demeanor rivalled that of which the one you used to know. The soft spoken, kind, sweet, shy Peter. The one that still plays with legos despite being nineteen years old. You'd give anything to have him back...

You always knew that Peter could do better, but hearing this from him was a lot different than you saying it to yourself in your head. Before you had started dating you knew he had a chance with Michelle. She was a very pretty girl that went to your university, she was also Peter's chem partner... Michelle was nice, smart, and talented. You were very aware of the little 'thing' they had going on. So to your surprise, when you heard rumors of a certain Peter Parker, looking to ask you out, you almost didn't believe. Hell, you laughed straight into Brad's face and told him he was delusional. If only a hesitant, blush faced Peter wasn't stood right behind you to prove you wrong.

Ever since that day, you questioned Peter's choice. Why did he choose you, when he could've had a chance with Michelle? Someone he was more compatible with... You figured that he saw something special in you that nobody else did. Though, his previous statement proves you wrong and tells you that he doesn't even know why he gave you a chance. You're at a drift, not knowing where this relationship is headed, or where to stand. Knowing that you were replaceable to Peter weakens you. Were you really that insignificant to him? Were you a chore to be around? If so then why did he stay for two years? All these questions ran through your mind as you're frozen in a state of shock. How do you follow such a thing?

You stand silently, wails threatening to break free from your lips, as you shake. Instantly covering your mouth with your palm. You watch as he screamed at you more, words blocked out by the ringing in your ears. Truthfully, you were glad you couldn't hear his words, not knowing how to reciprocate to any more of his personal attacks.

The familiar feeling of despair began to conjure in the pit of your stomach. The tightness in your chest began to focus on your beating heart, constricting you like a boa preying on its meal. Everything around you became a hazy blur as the non stop ringing became more prominent. The cause being your angry boyfriend and his heart-wrenching words. Jolts of anxiety began to climb up from your figure tips, like a thousand spiders crawling on your skin. A feeling you know all too well crept up from behind you. You were beginning to feel frantic and scared, as your breathing became unstable.

You were becoming erratic, desperate to end the fight and be in his arms again.

"What!? Huh, not gonna clap back with some snarky remark. Admit it, you know im right!"

Peter's face was a striking shade of scarlet while he paced back and forth, hands finding themselves tangled in his hair as he mumbled inaudible words. His hair, you remember running your hands through his curly, brown locks this morning when you woke up. Oh, how happy and blissful you both were twelve hours prior to this moment. You both were so content and hopeful with the prospect of your relationship. Being able to finally spend time with each other after a stressful week. Originally, you had planned a date night with Peter. But things began to make a turn for the worse when he began to insult every little thing you did. Now here you were, an hour and forty-five minutes late for your reservations.

A taste for bitterness began to fill your mouth, as your insides churned. Waves of sadness and despair hit you like a tsunami. You suddenly couldn't stand the thought of staying in the same room as Peter. Let alone sleeping in one. Fore his words had impacted you like an arrow through the heart. You felt sick, disgusted, vulnerable, and above all else, hurt.

"God, you're such a fucking bitch sometimes!" Peter spat, but soon after stopped, noticing your sudden change in demeanor. Your once, fuming and aggressive facade was replaced with a much more subdued, fragile, hurt exterior, mirroring how you felt inside. You had given up. The bandage that held your heart together snapped.

You looked up at him, hurt written all over your face. Instantly, Peter rushed your way. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, apologize for calling you a bitch. But stopped when you held your hand out and shook your head, a sob erupting from your mouth. Suddenly, all the hurtful things Peter said rang through his own head.

Oh...

Shit!

"Baby, I-" He started, not knowing how to follow. His mouth suddenly became dry, letting out a sigh of regret. Voice coming out weak and pained. His chest tightening at the sight of what he has done to you. No no no no no no.... Peter knew you weren't the type to forgive and forget. Even if you both manage to somehow recover from this, he knew that his words would always be in your head. You would constantly doubt yourself and his transparency, thinking if it was all an act.

Regret began to eat away at him once again when he noticed your uneven breathing. Another punch in his gut when he took note of your shaking. Peter's eyes quickly darted to yours, his heart breaking when he saw the amount of fear in them. He was uncertain if you were scared of him or your emotions. He wanted it to be the second one. Peter never wanted you to see him in that light. Yet here you were, having an anxiety attack because of him...

He knew that feeling all too well, having suffered from anxiety of his own, but the fact that he was the one to force you into that state shattered him..

"Don't call me that...." You spat coldy, backing away slowly into your shared bedroom. Making sure he didn't follow and locking the door. Once in the cozy room, you sob like la llorona conveying grief. You couldn't bear to see all the happy pictures of you two, when he said so himself, you're nothing special to him. Without thinking, you began to rip off every Polaroid, framed pictures, and drawings from the walls. Not caring of ripping them. You threw them all on the floor. Your vision becoming clouded by tears as you sob. Ruining the white fabric of your oversized sweater with your makeup contaminated tears.

Your body halts, the last remaining picture was of the both of you on your first date. You always considered that day as the happiest moment of your life. But now knowing that you're just a pit stop in Peter's life, the memory manifests into something much darker than obsidian.

You inhale as you looked at the picture one more time. It was you kissing Peter on the cheek. He donned a beautiful cheshire smile, his freckles displaying proudly under the sunlight. He wore a red, hooded sweatshirt with his hero, Iron man's logo depicted on the top right corner. You always love it when he wore sweaters, especially that one. You remembered every emotion you felt as the picture was being taken. Even if you didn't, your expression held it all. You radiated happiness as the butterflies in your stomach became restless. You were so happy...

You sob lightly, your thumb caressing his face as you looked fondly at the picture. Suddenly, words that fell from his mouth earlier replayed in your head. He had purposely attacked your deepest insecurities. Jabbed and taunted you. The Peter you knew would never result to something so cruel and petty. Without putting much thought into it, you began to take the picture out of its frame.

Your ears perking up when you hear the familiar sound of the lock being picked. The jiggling of the doorknob was something you grew accustomed to. Having locked yourselves out of the bedroom on more than one occasion....

Taking one final breath, you rip the picture in two and retreated into the master bathroom. Once the door was slammed shut and locked, all hell broke loose. As if it couldn't have gotten worse alright. Your wails grew louder and more repetitive that you were being to sound like a banshee, mourning for her decaying heart. Eventually, you found yourself curled up in the bathtub, suppressing your cries into your knees as you lowered your head.

Peter finally succeeds in picking the lock, after what seemed like hours, and once he creaked opened the door of your shared bedroom, his heart broke in two. Parts of him began to deteriorate, he wished he had never said those hurtful things. He felt numb and out of touch with reality, sensing his anxiety looming over his shoulder. Peter knew that one of your biggest insecurities was never meaning much to somebody. And that weren't fond of feeling worthless and neglected. He knew your background and upbringing well enough to know just how much you disliked being treated as such.

All he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and kiss your tears away. A pool of sadness brimmed his eyes as he evaluates the damage. From one corner of the room to the other, pictures were left scattered and discarded. The framed drawings of him that you illustrated, sat on the floor of your bedroom, frame cracked and shattered. The Polaroids he held ever so dearly to his heart, littered the bed and floor. He broke down in tears when he sees the torn picture of you both.

How could you vandalize such a treasured memory. But then again, how could he hurt the most precious thing in his life. Seeing the picture ripped apart like this, he knew that somehow he affected your perspective on this whole relationship. His previous words had tainted such beloved memories, and twisted them to seem like nothing more than a one-sided love. He made you question whether he truly loved you or not. Suddenly the realization kicked in, and it kicked in hard. A tsunami of guilt and regret pierced through is heart. His insides churned and it suddenly became very hard to breathe. He suddenly became really aware of how dire this situation was. His following actions may break your relationship if he didn't act wisely.

Peter bends down to hold your piece of the puzzle, a river flow of heart ache cascading down his cheeks, wetting the captured image of you. Your sobs, which had begun to sound like cries of help, due to lack of air, rang threw Peter's ears. Suddenly he grew extremely concerned and rushed to the door, dropping your image.

Immediately, you stop when you heard soft knocks coming from the other end of the door, which was soon followed by cries and sniffling sounds.

"Baby, open the door!" You don't comply with his words and stayed seated in your place, hugging your knees tighter.

"W-what are you gonna do if i don't? Pick the lock and violate my privacy! Just go away P-peter! W-why don't you go find another girl to replace me, because apparently, i-i mean nothing to you!" Screaming at the inanimate door, or more so the person behind it, as you let out a cut short wail. You hated yourself for how weak and broken you sounded. Wishing, you could drown out his stupid words that had already engraved itself deep in your brain.

"Y-you said s-so yourself! I'm easily replaceable! I-if i had known that this relationship was just gonna be one sided then i would've never wasted my time!" Apparent in your tone and words how truly distraught you were, Peter cried harder, cold sweats engulfing his body. He winced at the thought of how broken you were. It only lead him to wonder, what exactly happened and what brought on this fight. Sounding more so a statement rather than a question in his head.

He parted his lips softly, a small whimpering sigh rolling off his tongue.

"Please y/n, just open the door. I-i just want to see you. Please... I-I need to know that you're okay...." his words laced with mixed emotions, such as sorrow and remorse. Despite his current emotional state, Peter's stature looked anything else but composed. God, he was freaking out..

Incoherently mumbling a soft 'please' as he laid his forehead onto the wood door. His hand resting above his head, fist balled tightly, as if ready to start pounding. He was desperate, eyes screwing shut tightly causing a flow of tears to glide down his cheeks. Peter's jaw clenched tightly in frustration, as he beat himself over and over again for saying such things.

After much hesitance, you stood up and made your way to the door. Peter hears the small shuffle and quickly straightens himself out. After seconds of hovering your hand over the knob, you twist it open, instantly unlocking itself and setting free all the pent up emotions. You crack open the door, almost immediately, Peter rushes in and hugs you.

You don't return the hug, silently stiffening in his arms. At that moment, the last few bits of composure you had built back up snaps loose. You become a crying mess in Peter's arms. Feelings of unmeasurable sadness cascade down your cheeks, onto his black long sleeve shirt. You try and push him away, but fail due to his strength. His muscular arms constricting you as if you would fade away.

"Listen to me please." He says softly, tears lightly streaming down his cheeks, though, not to the caliber of yours.

You sniffle lightly, thrashing in his arms. Though, it was no use, his hold was so secure that no amount of resistance would break you free. So, you could do nothing else but endure what he has to say.

"I'm sorry-

Sorry doesn't fix anything Peter, it's just a word!" The teary-eyed male hissed at your words. The amount of hurt and venom your tone held was enough to make his jaw clench and his hold to tighten.

"I know it doesn't, but it's a start. L-look, i didn't mean to say that. I don't know what came over me, or what caused me to say those things. But what i do know is that they were a hundred percent untrue. And i want you to know that..." He pauses briefly to wipe away your tears with his thumb. Dipping his head into the crook of your neck. He took in your floral scent, hoping it would help him regain composure. You feel a tug on your heart at how utterly hurt and small he sounded.

"I love you with all my heart, and that you are the most unique girl I've ever met... If anything i don't know how i even managed to get a girlfriend as beautiful and amazing as you..... Wanna know why I'm with you?" You nod lightly into his chest. His hold readjust itself as he lays his head above yours. Almost content with your slight gesture, but he needed to be sure you were happy.

"It's because you accept me for who i am. You don't pressure me to be perfect all the time, you welcome my flaws with open arms; don't expect anything from me and shower me with so much love everyday... I want you to know that i could never replace you, not that i would ever want to. How did i ever get so lucky... Please y/n, you are one of the most important people in my life.... I-i can't loose you too..." Peter couldn't fathom a future with out you in it. He grew frantic, thinking that this day could be the last together. And that there would be a slight chance that you didn't want to forgive him again. He couldn't let that happen...

"Please say something...." He sighed whilst tears brimmed his eyes, taking your tightening hold on his shirt to keep moving forward.

"Do you remember when we first started dating, that night i texted you that i was frustrated and my anxiety was acting up... And you came over in a heart beat, even though you lived fifteen minutes away... Y-you told me to let it all out, and i cried in your arms for an hour, complaining about everything. I felt so ashamed for crying in front of you, but you told me that i was so brave for accepting my feelings... I know what i said must've hurt you a lot, but I'll do better... I'm sorry for triggering you like that." Peter's tone was barely above whisper, and if he hadn't have said it directly above your ear, you would've missed it. There he was... your Peter....

You thought back to the said memory and smiled fondly, that was the night you both realized that you wanted a more serious title on your relationship. Finally labeling each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. You thought back to all the happy memories you both shared and confirmed that a silly little fight wouldn't get the best of you. Yes, his words might've hurt, but his actions now out ways all of his petty insults. You give into your flourishing heart and forgive him.

Backing away from his chest lightly, you look up at him, gasping slightly at his blood shot eyes. You hesitatly reach up to cup both of his cheeks. Wiping away the remaining tears that streamed down his face. He smiled lightly and leaned into your touch, taking one of your hands in his and place a soft, delicate kiss on it.

"We'll be okay...." You smiled at his comforting words before planting a passionate, loving kiss on his lips. Peter smiled lightly before taking your wrist on his hold and guiding them to wrap around his neck. He deepens the kiss and pulls you closer by your waist.

It was then that he realized that he wanted you to be the only women in his life. And that he wanted nobody else. Suddenly feeling an overly compelling urge in his heart to make up for his actions overcomes him. He was determined to trap you in his web of love again. He couldn't loose you too...

You smile in content, 

          portraying the victim always worked...

'Indeed, we'll be just fine.....'

Perhaps they were both awful people, fooling each other with the reality they both created. But it was done with the intent of love, sick twisted love... He was possessive and she was insecure. And together they were toxin and venom... God forbid anything that tries to get in between them...

_____________

End Note:

For those that don't understand, take notice in Peter's words and how drastically different they are from when he was mad to when he was apologizing. Sweet at first glance but if you really dig deep you'd notice how sugar coated everything seemed, like he's saying what you want to hear. And as for the Reader, I purposely left out how much she contributed to the fight in the beginning to make it seem as though she was the victim, when in reality she was also at fault. The anxiety aspect of this story was very much 'real' since I described what it felt like for me and I wanted her to suffer from anxiety yet have something be a little off. Now, I'm not claiming that the bedroom part was a whole scene to feed her victim persona, but that's up to how you want to view it. This story is subjective and can be taken however way you want to.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #peter parker scenarios #dark!marvel #dark!mcu #dark!peter #dark!peter parker #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel avengers #marvel angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spider man: far from home #spiderman angst #yandere peter parker #toxic love #toxic friends #toxic people #toxic relationship #venom x spiderman #spiderman smut

[witchcraftingboop]

Further Insight on Briar's Recent Discourse & Prim's Apparent Grooming of Younger, Newer Witches

It was suggested to me that instead of making one long post (which I was genuinely sorry for creating in the moment as well), that I should offer the second half in a separate one so that it is easier to share and harder to simply ignore as a wall of text.

Here is the link to the first half of the current JBird and Briar discourse floating around. I highly encourage everyone involved in the Witchblr community to review both posts and not just this final addition. 

Regarding Prim stirring the pot, I actually do have proof of that on my page somewhere if you wouldn't mind my sending it to you? The person I reblogged it from, Mahi, also received death threats from Prim when they were only 16 and Prim was 20 (I can't ask him to share that though because Prim has since used her following to drive him off of Tumblr and he's still fairly [and justifiably] sensitive about it.)

Regarding Briar's statements more specifically though, I can see where the confusion is coming from. After the "in France" part, she's just defining a relevant term (hence the use of "irrelevant details) and then giving an explanation of how she came to be so knowledgeable about that term/concept. I wouldn't say she's calling Prim's activism an "irrelevant detail," but pointing out how Prim uses it as a shield against backlash whenever another blog (not just tradcrafters) calls out her platform. I don't expect you to fully understand or see what I mean when I say that, of course. Because you are still new, and these are habits I've observed of hers from nearly a year of following their interactions. I would, however, like to point out that Briar doesn't say anything racist about Prim and does not once bring up her race. In fact, I think if you read her entire post and not just point 3 as Prim has it cropped out in all of her mentions of it, you would see more fully the depth and amount of frustration Briar is trying to express. Similarly, Briar never threatened to dox Prim. She has, in fact, repeatedly tried to point out that Prim should be protecting her online information and be more aware of how to stop others from finding out about her private life/situation. These statements, however, have since been warped by Prim and her followers to come off as a threat on her life. Briar's statements above aren't a threat of doxxing. She's never once posted Prim's personal information or told others to find it or use it in any way. She has, however, searched for Taglocks on Prim, something witches especially are known to look for. In that search she found more than she was even looking for, despite trying to tell Prim repeatedly to stop being so open online with the information she posts about herself. Doxxing though is not racist. It is something used by them, sure, but it is not inherently racist.

Additionally, Prim has raised money, sure, but I still have not seen any actual receipts as to her *actually* donating it to any public or private organizations. This, for me, is highly suspect. In reality, we still have no idea where that money is. Whereas with Briar, she took no money in for a couple days on her readings and instead merely asked that those requesting a reading first submit proof of donation to an organization linked in the post. She raised substantial money for the BLM movement, but no one seems to want to bring that up in all of their "she's a racist" discourse. Also, the observation that someone is misleading or gaslighting their following is not racist. Just because she said Prim was recently using her BLM reblogs & promotions to do it *this time* still does not make it racist. Questionable wording is just something the reader disagrees with, in my opinion, and should be addressed as such.

I'm not going to lie, I do feel a little frustrated at this point. I was really hoping to come to you and see that you had concrete proof to offer that Briar is a racist. I do understand that you have your own reasons for feeding into the assumptions and twisted outlooks already taken on Briar's words, but I don't have enough energy in me to fully swallow my tongue on this one. I really do hope that you at least consider what I've said here. I'm not sure what I can say at this point because all of the information I've read from you thus far has been purely conjecture or assumptions or just "not feeling right" about the wordings on a single post. A racist, from my perspective, is not something I would ever feel comfortable calling someone off of this lack of evidence.

I understand it is hard to separate preconceived notions from your mind when reading through the words of others, but I really do miss when you were more open to the words of others. If I could ask one thing of you, it'd be to please try to read Briar's post again but from the perspective of seeing it how it was meant to be: a witch who has been on the butt end of Prim's harassment for going on three years now. She is tired of the wild accusations and constantly having to defend herself, and even when she supplied her proof a couple years ago, no one wanted to hear her. She has, largely, given up on being heard, and now screams into what feels like a void when attacked.

Proof of Prim stirring the pot that I offered: An example of Prim actively seeking out the community and trying to stir the pot with an already dealt with situation that had passed over a year ago.

A direct source that I offered as further proof of what has occurred already: This is one from the account mentioned before who was directly involved with the previous discord server where the Trio incident took place a couple years back.

[A Reply.] I think, to be fair, I saw your comments on her previous posts through your main, and with how much aggression you packed into those messages, I don't necessarily blame her for deciding not to engage with your private messages. As I've said, she's very used to people attacking her like that, and in her mind, unfortunately, you've probably been added to the list of aggressive people ready to fling the blame at her rather than look at the situation as a whole. I do apologize for the way her post may have made you feel, but I think it's also important to remember the potentially aggressive things you left on her page (I'm not saying you meant to come off that way, but even I couldn't help but read that way). Also, regarding the ask, it's no small secret that the occultists of the tradcraft group are skilled and well-versed in hexes and curses. When reading her posts about how she may respond to further antagonism on Prim's part, I see a fully realized occultist wielding their most well kept and trained weapon: baneful magic. I'm sure Prim herself also understands that the "threat on her life" she's saying she's so afraid of, isn't a physical threat, but a metaphysical one. She has repeatedly and continually tried to drag these people through the mud, and now that they're refusing to just sit back and be canceled, she's afraid. She knows how strong their magic is, and they aren't shy about it 🤷‍♀️

[A Reply.] No, I completely understand where you're coming from. I, personally, have seen your willingness to talk things through, despite how aggressive you can come off at times in the things you say, so I think that's why I was genuinely so surprised to see your comments on some of her posts. But I do think her response and refusal to further directly engage with you is warranted and her right. Unfortunately, it is hard to tell who is genuinely open to talking and who is just trying to bait and add to the problem. And with how aggressive your comments were, 8 honestly think she most likely was responding from a place of "oh look another young Prim follower here to bait and berate me." I don't think she looks down on you for your age, but her views are likely a reflection of the fact that a lot of 18yos follow Prim and have openly harassed her without even asking for her input on the matter.

At this point, I would like to talk about the second half of the title of this particular post. Grooming. This is a very serious allegation against Prim that I have not spoken on previously because I had no proof that it was happening. With this person's permission, I would like to share how exactly they wound up fighting Prim's battles for her.

I will note: I am highly disgusted by what follows.

[A Reply.] Oh no! You cannot fault yourself for this! Prim is a known manipulator, and the fact that she was able to make you somehow think this is part of your being "gullible and naive" is just testament to the fact that she's gotten wayyy too good at what she does. This is in no way your fault or because of some fault within you. Practiced manipulators are cunning and dangerous even to the best of us. It was unfortunate that she chose you, but her twisting you around is in no way a bad reflection on you as a person!

I've chosen to include my reply to this person rather than our continued discussion because of how personal and involved our conversation turned. I've included it to show, as well, that grooming others to fight your battles is (though this should go without saying) NEVER OKAY. Prim has shown her true colors, in my opinion, and while I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt time and time again, I simply cannot permit myself to ignore the harm and damage she's inflicted on not only the tradcraft community, but also this innocent group of friends. A group who that has hitherto dedicated their time to sussing out predators, terfs, nazis, and racists. A group that should never have had to deal with being gaslit and manipulated by a well-known and respected blogger on this platform.

I cannot reiterate enough how sorry and deeply shocked I am at the information this person has brought to my attention. I am still stunned by Prim's activities and unable to fathom how many other potential individuals are out there being groomed to support and fight for her cause. I am sorry to the Witchblr community as a whole. I feel as if I have sat by and watched as Witchblr has been manipulated and am therefore complacent in the damage and needless hurt that has been allowed to spread throughout our community. I am just so very, very sorry.

I will be taking a couple days off of Tumblr because of this, as I feel as if I need space and time to think, but my inbox is always open and I am always available to speak with others on my return.

#witchblr #witch community #witchblr discourse #discourse #nightshadeandroses #grooming tw #grooming in the witch community #tradcraft #traditional witchcraft #beginner witch #novice witch #baby witch #witch predator #long post #gabrielle #chthoniaa