#i havent touched it since the fight that led to my break up.... and this is the first time I thought about that night in months | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kay-is-krazy · 5 years

Text

Literally No Title

Please help

Idk what I’m doing

This is a fanfic

Deanxreader kinda

It needs work sorry

I will hashtag

Damp. Everything that surrounds you is damp. As you start to come to, you smell the stench. Sulfar. Confused, you try to open your eyes, brows furred as the light tries to chase away your sight. Your adrenaline pushes you to figure out where you are. Looking around weerily, you notice the familiar iron door. Your parents old farmhouse storm cellar. Opening and closing your eyes making sure this is what you're actually seeing. It's been years. Decades even since you've seen these walls. Theyre different now. Moldy, but with cobwebs. You start to realize you're strapped down on the old iron table you used to eat spaghettios on when the tornados hit. No use in trying to squirm your way to topple over. Your father bolted it down in the cement. How did you get here. As you push and strain yourself to remember, the door opens. A tall red flannel emerges, and you go cold...

Life wasn't always fighting monsters, and saving people. You had a family of your own, until the vampire mafia ripped in to town destroying everything in their path, including your home and everyone in it. You still remember their screams as you fled into the woods. Revenge is a choice you have to make, and it sure was a hell of a ride. In this life, you run into auhtorities, but very little hunters like yourself. After bumping into the Winchesters working a werewolf case, they sort of took you under their wing. Noticing you needed guidance, before you ever could. You were in constant rage, before meeting the boys. Searching for answers, and never being satisfied with the kill. It all blurred into a blood bath of vengence. A lot of trust, losses, and whiskey, but you found a new family. You need them as much as they need you. And just recently, it was Dean needing saving.

The mark had completely consumed him. Being the hero, the guinea pig, has led him to be desperate in saving the world. You knew he was always staying strong, putting on a good face for Sam, but deep down, he is slightly broken like the rest of you. His hope depleted as the mark's strength took over his judgement. He was like you were before they saved you, scared and fuming with anger. You're just trying to return the favor before he hurts anyone else, especially his brother Sam.

After months of research, you found something. Slight chance of hope in fixing Dean. Confiding in Sam, he decides to look for it himself. The word of God. Once touched by a demon, it is said to purify them. No one has seen it in over 100 years, but you got a lead. The only thing that's near impossible is finding Dean. So time to draw him out... He wants a fight, you'll bring him a fight.

Scrounging up as many demons as possible, making sure they're alive but bleeding, you make a devils trap and wait. You heard through demon grapevine, that Dean can sniff them out. He's the big bad now. Being a demon himself, he hates them even more, if that makes sense.

But your plan didn't work. There have been plenty of close calls while working on the job, but this wasn't just a regular monster case. It was so much more, and there's a lot at stake. You realize why you're scared. You're in a situation even you can't get out of alive. Fear sets in as Dean walks closer. Each step like a predator closing in on it's prey. That red shirt, being even more red than usual.

He smirks, “Welcome back sunshine. Thought I killed you too soon”.

Your head is pounding as you try to look at your body. Realizing its broken, bruised, and bloodied, you must have put up a fight.

“Oh that, sorry, I couldn't help myself. After I knocked you out, I had some fun.” Your heart is beating so fast as if it is going to jump out of your body. The last thing you want is for him to see you afraid. You try to muffle out his name, but your voice is hoarse. “Please don't speak, I don't want my ears to bleed as you plead with me.... or on the other hand, I'd love to hear you beg for your life”, he whispers the last part in your face.

Wincing at his words, you turn your head, and say “You're not you right now. We'll fix this, Dean.”

He puts his hands on your chin, for a second you think it's him. His oversized, warm strong hands that wouldn't hurt a fly unless it was unnatural.The ones who taught you martial arts, and the ever so famous air guitar. But looking into his eyes, noticing they are lacking the softness, they flicker, and those green eyes are no longer. Black eyes, and his hands smell of sulfar. “There's nothing to fix sweetheart, I'm better than ever.” he jerks his hand away making your head turn to face him. As he walks to the door to open it, you yell out, “Just get it over with and kill me already!” He stops, turns his head just so you can see his profile, and scoffs. Walking out, and leaving you alone once again.

Wondering where Sam is, you try to squirm free from being tied up.Your fastens on your wrist have some wiggle room. Using the pointiness of your sister's ruby class ring on your left hand, you try to cut the leather bands. It's going to take hours, but you're not giving up yet. You know there are only two ways out of this, and you'll be damed if you don't fight.

'Pour some sugar on me' plays from your cell phone. Sam's calling you, the signature ringtone for drunk, fun Sam. Reminding you of the nights at the roadhouse, playing the same G43 on the old jukebox driving Dean insane. While Sammy and you sang until your voices were unrecognizable.

The door opens, and you straighten up, not making a move to let Dean know you've been trying to break free. There's a cart that he's pushing inside, full of old kitchen utensils, some tools from a shed, and a few of Dean's things from the trunk of his Impala that have been missing since the mark took him over.

“I know you and Sam have been looking for me, trying to save me. I'm going to show you how much I don't want or need you two around. Lets send Sammy a message, hm?” He walks over to your jacket with your cellphone in it. Dean throws it in the air and catches it. Holding it like a gun, making fake noises pretending to shoot you. “Glad to see you havent lost your adolescent behavior”, you say, “I know you're still in there Dean”.

He puts your phone down on the cart, picking up a rusty knife used for cutting fish. “But I'm not, and I'm going to prove to you just how wrong you are about me.” He cuts your cheek, and you feel the skin break open, stinging.

“You can hurt me all you want, you'll just be hurting yourself.” You say and spit in his face. The dark smirk scurries from his face, and you know what's coming next is worst.

The torture that he tortured you with only stems from Hell. Picture after picture taken and sent to Sam. The laughing, the darkness, and the insults coming from him, you start to lose hope that Dean is even in there. You keep reminding yourself that demons lie. Not believing anything DemonDean says, even though you desperately want it to be true. The remarks about how he used to think about you like a little sister until a couple years ago when you got stood up on a date with some guy named Brett. Thinking back from a different perspective now, you realize Dean was the one there who saved you from getting kicked out of the restaurant for using up a table. Waiting for some loser you met online, but seeing Dean sitting down across from you, feeling a sense of clarity and sureness. But now ever since he's turned into something evil, he doesn't feel a thing at all for you or Sam.

In and out of consiousness, you decide you wouldn't give up on him. Even though your body is mangled, you keep pushing.

“Dean, this isn't the path your mother would have wanted. You have to know that. You don't want to let her down or she'd died for nothing.” You plead and try, but he slaps you hard in the face. The hit seemed personal, as if you were getting somewhere with him. You reason, “Isn't family what brings people together, it's what brought us together. Aren't we family, you could let me go, and Sam and I can help you see the light again. Just like your mom used to say right? The light will guide you home. Come home Dean!” Another blow to your head. He knocks you out again.

As you come to, Dean is reaching for the blade. He's actually going to use it on you, kill you. Coming to terms with your fate, you start to hum and mumble 'simple man by lynryd skynrd'. It was always your favorite. It was everyones favorite. You figured it was a good enough song to go out to. You peek open your eyes as much as you can. Throbbing and seeping blood, you're finally able to see Dean stop and stare at you. He drops the blade, looking down at the mark and then back at you. His face twisted, unsure of what is reality. You don't stop singing. Second verse, he's closer now. A single tear rolling down your face; knowing if he ever came back, got the mark off, he wouldn't forgive himself. Even when he's unable to save someone on a job, he's hard on himself. You can't imagine what he'll feel like, so you pity him.

He's closer now, hands around your throat. He's trying to fight you and himself. The pain and anger in his eyes turns black, then normal again. You look him straight in those familiar faint green eyes, and say your final words, “I forgive you.” The world goes dark.

Heaven was always described as 'your own personal paradise'. You're wondering why yours is in a hospital. White walls and curtains. The coldness in your nose suprises you. Who knew paradise would be so cold, gray, and foggy. Nothing was easy to make out, but you could definitely tell it was a hospital. You hate hospitals, confused as to why you're heaven isn't what you expected, you look around to see if there is a recognizable face. Hoping for maybe your Dad, Mom, or sister.

No one. There's a loud beeping noise and you look up to see a monitor. Looks like the vitals of a dead man. You start to wonder maybe God put you in the wrong paradise. So you pray. But words don't come out, and you drift back into the dark.

Blinking once, then twice, then several times. The light is bright. You can tell it's daytime. Still the same Heaven as before, but this time you feel everything. The pain, the tenderness. You remember, and know that you're not dead. Relieved, but still uncertain, you try to move. Expecting straps to hold you back, your right arm goes flying in the air. Not used to being free. You look down at your body. It's bandaged and braced. A mountain of a man peeks through the curtains. You have instant relief when you recognize Sam. He has the 'poor puppy eyes' look, and you put your hand on his. He grips it tight, but gentle enough. The gentle giant. Trying to let out a smile, a shadow lurks behind Sam. Instant fear as you realize it's Dean. Panic sets in, and your body cannot handle it. The monitors go off, you see Sam try to calm you down, and Dean sneaking away, head down, disgraced with himself. Nurses rush in with the Doctor to make sure you're okay. Tears well up in your eyes. You somehow cannot forget what Dean has done to you.

Weeks in the hospital, the only visitor you had was Sam. Trying to keep your spirits up, he shows you all of his research following up on possible cases. Between playing cards, reading books, and making fun of the new Taylor Swift song, you ask Sam, “How is he?”, and each answer is the same. “No better, no worse,” Sam replies. After the panic attack, Dean thought it best if he didn't show his face anymore to you. Once healed, you were allowed to go home as long as you didn't saw off the leg brace, and practice using the crutches. Knowing how stubborn you are, Sam rolled his eyes, and promised to watch over you.

Happy to finally break out, you laugh as you fumble with the crutches. Sam lets out a worrisome smile. “I'm fine Sam. Really.” You look up to him and give him a carefree toothy grin. Throwing all of your things into the impala, because Sam refused to drive “that stupid pink truck”, you beg Sam to let you pick the music.

Pulling up to the bunker, your stomach sinks a little. You know you'll have to face Dean eventually. Fogiving is easy for you, but forgetting is a whole other learning curve. Never being the one to admit you're wrong first, or facing real problems, you know it's somehting that needs to be worked on. Staring off into the distance a bit, Sam pulls you out of it as he opens the door. “We're stocked up on all your favorite foods, drinks, and even have Netflix!” He says, nudging you arm and attempting a playful laugh.

Weeks of healing, you finally are able to get up into your truck. You need some air, and desperately needed to get away. The outside world was calling your name, so were the pink wheels on that old ford. First hours, days, then weeks went by, and not a single glance from Dean. No words, no contact. Ignored you completely. Anytime you tried to reach him, asking to grab a drink at the dirty bird bar, to researching a simple ghost job, he pushed you away. You spent so much time in your room with your thoughts. Trying not to think about the event that almost ended you, and most importantly the relationship with Dean. Even Sammy has started treating you differently like you're broken. After Sam telling you to stay home again, while they hunt monsters, you'd had enough. Weekend getaway to a cabin in the woods. You leave your phone on your nighstand and decide you need some peace to clear your mind.

“Fill her up,” you say shutting off your truck to get gas. Getting out to grab snacks from inside, a long lost friend appears. Not able to look away from the light, he shields your eyes for you. You forgot how enchanthing the bright white was. “Cas what are you doing here?” You ask as you looks at you stearnly.

“I was told to keep a tab on you, and you left the bunker. So I'm here to bring you back.” He says reaching for your arm.

“Under who's orders?!” You demand. Not letting him answer you back away and say, “The boys? Really can't even get some fresh air!” Clearly angry, you hit your tailgate. Cas immediatley lays his hands on you to heal you. Being an angel has it's perks. But you wanted to feel something, Cas didn't exactly understand what being human was really like.

Brushing his hand away, you try to reason with him. “Go back to the bunker, grab my phone, and bring it to me. That way I have it on me in case I need anything. I'm still going on my very needed trip. What I don't need is a babysitter” Before you could blink twice, Cas had your phone in hand. “Do not turn this off and always keep this on you.” Rolling your eyes you respond sarcastically, “Thanks Dad. Can I leave now?” Clearly unsure of his decision, Cas side eyes you, but finally nods, and leaves you to your road trip snacking.

The cabin is the same as you left it two summers ago. A couple empty beers scattered, but the rest of the place in neat tidy order. Your mom always liked everything in a specific spot, and you try your best to remember that while staying there. Picking up the bottles to recycle them, you smile and remember the good times spent here with your family, both families. Thinking about the boys, you let out a sigh of relief. Thanking the angels that Sam showed up when he did in the storm cellar that day. The word of God being forcefully put in Dean's hands, purifying him instantly. A bright gold light shining through the brick like object, blasting Dean into Sam. His brother holding onto Dean as he comes to and realizes, he's saved. Sam's words will stay with you forever, that story will stay with you forever. You smile as you remember, you were the one who stalled Dean as Sam had come to the rescue.

“Oh shit!” You say as your line tugs and gets stronger. You were too busy admiring the cotton candy sunset to see your fishing line got a bite. It was a warm afternoon, but turning brisk fast. Fall was settling in, you could tell as the wing picked up every now and then. The trees leaves turning the auburn colors. Setting your beer down, you reel it in, but your bait is completely gone.

“You never were good at fishing.” You quickly stand from a lousy folded plastic chair, and turn around to find Dean, smiling at your loss. Clearly shocked, you ask “What are you doing here? Cas told you didn't he. Lousy friend.”

You put your pole down, and open the cooler to offer Dean a beer. He takes it and slowly sits down on the edge of the dock, feet dangling. You sit down next to him, opening your own beer. “Where's Sam?” you ask.

“Working the case still.” He notices your cocked eyebrow from a side glance. As if he would ever leave Sammy alone, he continues, “It's easy, just some pyscho vengeful ghost.” He sips his beer, straring at the now setting sun.

Getting straight to it, you ask, “Why are you here Dean?” Staring at him, you notice the weariness.

He lowers his head, gripping his beer tight. You see his shoulders move up and down slowly. Sighing heavily, he looks at you, completely looks at you for the first time. It catches your breath, because you have never seen a man so broken, Dean so vulnerable. You can tell he's been fighting with himself, beating himself up over the events that took place. Defeated, face full of hatred for himself, he doesn't say a word. You see his jaw tighten, his temples twitching. Reaching for his shoulder to show trust, but he pulls away shaking his head. “I don't trust myself with you” He musters, as he stands up to walk toward the cabin. Thinking about chasing after him, forcing him to talk, but you can't move. Like cement, you stay planted in your spot. The sun finally sets, but you still sit there, listening to the sound of the frogs.

Grabbing your things from the dock, you head inside. What could you say to make him believe you. Would you believe yourself if you said, “Everything is okay.”? Is it? Inside, you notice Dean is cleaning up what seems to be like the bathroom mirror. Understanding what just happened, you bend down to help and he stops you. Gripping your hands tight, he says “No. You don't need to clean up my mess. Any of my messes.” With a dustpan, he walks to the trash to dump the shards of glass.

“What's that suppose to mean? Am I not allowed to care? To try to save you from yourself?” He winces at the last part.

Turning around to face you, but leaning against the kitchen counter, he looks at you cold and promises, “You will never have to save me again. I will never hurt you or anyone else again.” He looks down and then back up into your eyes, moving towards the door, “You wanna know why I'm here? I came here to say goodbye.”

Stopping him dead in his tracks, you look up at him wondering how you and Sam could even survive without Dean. You start to cry. It's not like you to let anything out, but you stand there, tears pouring out of your face. “No.” was all you could muster up. Very stearn, you said it again, “No.” He grabs you and pulls you in close. Hanging on to eachother, as if it's the last time.

You both stay like this awhile, not realizing it's way over due. “You're not leaving us. We won't let you.” you say confidently, and at this he lets go. He tenses again, trying to be strong, and insists “You and Sammy have to let me go. I've been nothing but trouble. I'm bad. I'm not worth your lives.” Clearly needing reassurance, but not knowing how, you yell, “I went through all of that for nothing?!” Talking with your hands like usual, brows furious now, you continue, “After everything, you still think you're not worth it? Sam and I have done everything for you, for us, for this family.”

He turns his back on you holding back tears, but instead letting out his frustration, “You don't what it's like to need constant saving. I need control of myself, I don't have control.” He yells as he punches the wall. It startles you.

“Oh, I don't know what it's like?” you start, “You don't think that I was ever at a low in my life. What losing my family did to me, the things I did in return. It wasn't until you and your brother, that I finally found solace!” you scoff, “Please you're not the only broken one around here.” Realizing that anger isn't the route to go down, you quietly move toward him. Pushing back the fear that has been dormant, you hold his hand. “We are family.” you say softly. “Family doesnt end in blood.” You wipe away the blood trickling from his knuckle with your shirt.

His hands are shaking now, as he holds them up inching closer to your neck. You flinch, and he tries to pull away. You immediatley grab his hands, and put them to your cheeks, making his squish them together a little. Tears welling up in your eyes, you let out a low, “i'm a little guppy...” It was something you two always did to cheer eachother up. Getting the other to laugh when you're both at a low point has been almost like a game. So far, he's beeing in the lead. Before you can finish, his lips are on yours. Waves of heat roll from your head to your toes, your wet cheeks brushing his scruff, and you give in, even being scared and uncertain. Dean pulls away, looks at you stearn, and says “I'm going to miss you.”

You're still standing not sure of what just happened, and you hear the door slam shut. It seemed as though your feet wouldn't move, but then you finally took a deep breath, turned around and bolted out the door. He was getting in the impala, but before he could jet off, you opened that door and ripped him out. Standing toe to toe, you slap him. That bottled rage unleashes. Then you connect your fist to his face. Unprepared, Dean fell against the car. Shocked at how hard you hit, he starts to realize you're not going to stop, so he holds your hands down. Red in the face from anger, and him red because well there's now blood pouring from his nose, you finally relax so he loosens his rains on you.

“What was that?!” You ask. “Who do you think you are? That is not okay. I am not okay.” Turning around, hands on your hips, shaking your head. Instantly defensive, you gasp, turn to face him, and make sure he knows, “I am not like every other girl. I don't deserve to be treated like any other girl.” He opens his mouth to say something, but you immediatley talk over him, “You're going to have to kill me.” Dean looks at you clearly confused. “Why do I have to kill you?”

Walking back and forth now, you respond, “Over my dead body...You're not walking out on us. Not Sammy, not me. Not our future. People need us, they need you.” Stopping, and turning to face Dean, you say, “I need you. And if you get in that impala, you better have shot me first because I won't stop looking for you.” Walking toward him now, pointing your finger in his chest, you end with “I refuse to give up on you.” At that, he looks down at you, smirks, and responds, “You're stubborn, you know that?” You break a smile, and say “I learned from the best.” Throwing you over his shoulder, he walks into the cabin.

Completely surprised as to what took place last night, you turn around and look at Dean's green eyes. Understanding now, the feelings that were dormant for so long. Realizing now that DemonDean only told the truth to hurt you.You put your hand to his face, brushing his cheek with the back of your finger, and he closes his eyes to just feel your touch. “You're not allowed to leave.” He nods, reaches for your hand with his, and lightly kisses your fingers. “I will never forgive myself...” He says, and you respond instantly, with your pointer finger shooshing his lips, “I forgive you, and will continue to remind you that you're the good guy.” Closing your eyes, thinking about the first time meeting these boys, not knowing how they would change your life for the better, you smile. He rolls you over with ease, and tucks you in close to his warm naked chest. Deep, and grunting, he says your name into your hair. You lift your head a little to let him know you're listening, “hm?” “I don't deserve this” he says, “I don't deserve you.” You respond while picking his hand up moving it closer to your chest, “Neither do I.”

#kay-is-krazy #spnfic #deanxreader #dean x y/n #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean x you #please dont steal #literallynotitle

5 notes · View notes

hxlding-on-blog · 5 years

Note

hey so youve watched the guy who didnt like musicals right? (if you havent, you should!) well theres this song called 'not your seed' and i was wondering how would peter feel if may was in that situation?

Random Asks || ANONYMOUS

“May?”

His little girl steps out from the shadows of the school theatre, body obviously moving against her own will and yet there was no attempts in holding it back. Peter steps closer, though she speaks again and he suddenly can’t move anymore. The infection had spread all over New York by now but Peter hoped- he prayed- that she would ( by some miraculous chance ) be able to escape. That she’d run from the grasp of the disease that swept throughout the city, but no amount of sheer willpower could’ve stopped this.

“It’s all your fault.” She steps closer, pointing towards her father, eyes lifeless and cold; there was something in Peter that shattered, that tore apart and fell to the floor, his body shaking as she continued to speak in a familiar voice and yet the tone was clearly not his daughter. It took everything in Peter not to cry and, even then, tears slipped past; it didn’t take long before he was bawling and tried his best to reach out to her. “That’s the last thought I had before they broke down the door.“

“I’m not your girl anymore. I’m not that tween that you drove here for. I’m not your girl anymore. I overtook her body with an infectious spore.” Her voice was harmonious, each pitch perfect and in tune with sounds that made up a backing track, the spider pacing around May as he attempted to asses the situation. Without hitch in her song, she continued to sing; tears continued to flow down her father’s face but she didn’t stop, body moving in accordance to her lyrics. “You left me out of your sight for one second- and look what happens- Nightmare time! It’s worse than you could imagine- not sex and not drugs. Just aliens invading minds!”

As she continued to dance something akin to a musical number, Peter helplessly paced about some more, wanting to speak up and yet holding back as he hoped that maybe- just maybe- she could fight back against the will of the creature infecting her. But nothing about her changed as she continued onwards.“No more family vacays together‘cause your only daughter’s under the weather, and if you actually paid attention to me- You’d see- I’m not your seed!”

“May, what’s going on?” He attempted to speak out, hands reaching towards her but unable to touch; he was afraid he’d do something harsh, or scare her, or make things worse. But what that did was give the infection more means of control, still in control of her. And Peter shuffled awkwardly, placing his hands on her shoulders, attempting to shake her out of the grasp of that mind controlling creature. “I’m not your angsty teen!”

“May, I-I’m here to take you home.” There’s a moment Peter restrains himself, not wanting to waste his time on a fruitless task, but there was a section within him that said she could make it. That she could fight against this, that she could win; there was another part that said she’d never get through it. He had hope in his heart that May could come out victorious, but the creature showed no signs of relenting. “No matter what you believe, the apple’s fallen far from the tree.”

“It’s not my fault anymore. No more curfews to be late for. It’s not my fault anymore- no more being worried and waiting by the door.” She hunches over, as if about to throw up, but she instead continues to sing; Peter moves to catch her if she were to fall but, when notes come out instead of an infectious mass, Peter recoils and stares with wide eyes, unable to help. “Did you know that I wanted to live with you?”

As if on command, two other teens reveal themselves from the dark- her girlfriend and her best friend. The hive mind of the creature infecting them all connects to the sounds in the atmosphere, singing backup, Peter’s pacing quickening and attempting to reach out- yet again- to his little girl.

“Look what happens, nightmare time!”

“And when you needed to fight, you gave him that too-” It was like she was taunting him, showing him what he’d lost, what he’d never gain back, what he’d held so precious and dear only to never see again. The fight they’d had earlier in the morning was now an aching stab to his chest; he shouldn’t have spoken up about anything but, maybe, his attempts at stopping her from going out on a dangerous mission caused this. If he hadn’t fought with her, maybe he wouldn’t have lost her like everyone else in his life. “Did you know dad let Kate sleep over?”

“What?” His split with Eddie was for the best; at least, for Eddie. It ached him down to his soul to do that but, if it meant nobody would harm either him or V, it sufficed. It meant May’s weekends were spent with them but, since the divorce, he’d felt this underlying gut instinct that May preferred Eddie over him. He wasn’t in this for competition- he loved them all dearly- but something hurt about hearing of what Eddie did that Peter didn’t. It made him feel like he wasn’t doing enough. “And you’re wrong about Kate- She’s a hardcore stoner.”

He knew for a fact at this point that the creature was spouting lies to get to him, though it still stung; as her father, it was his duty to keep her safe. It was his duty to keep her away from the horrible aspects of humanity. The mere idea that he had failed had his stomach churning and hands turning into fists. This isn’t his daughter, he knew that well, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept that truth. “You’re lying!”

“And if you wonder what led your daughter astray- Well daddy wasn’t here to save- Not your seed!”

“Not your seed.”

“May, whatever I said this morning, I’m sorry-”

“I’m not your perfect teen!”

“Perfect teen-”

“You can break out of it- I know-I know you can!” No amount of convincing would stop Peter, would tell him he had nothing to save; he needed to be shown and his faith was dwindling by the second. Despite his attempts- shaking her, speaking, pacing around- she wouldn’t snap out of it. She couldn’t. But Peter wasn’t about to give up- she had to still be there, he knew it. “I’m fucking seventeen! At least, I was before you left me.”

A gut-churning voice told him to leave, to give up, that the meagre attempts would not be worth it. His daughter was gone; whatever infected her, it wasn’t going to let go, but neither was Peter. She stands quietly, an awkward silence, before she spoke again. She stood in a spotlight, as if planned, but he knew well it was the creature doing what it did best. “M-May?”

“Why does it hurt to love you? Why am I in pain? Why does it hurt to know you? You let me down again. If I turned my insides out, would you even know that I was there? Why does it hurt to love you… Why does it hurt to love…”

And for a split second, he believes the change in tone is a cry of help from his daughter, a sign that she’s still alive in there, a momentary flash of hope! Before the pillar is smashed down again and her body quickens up in its movements again, only to regain composure as a mind-controlled musical character. “I’m not your seed!

“Not your girl, not your girl-”

“Now maybe you’ll listen to me!”

“Listen to me, listen to me-”

“I’m sure you’d let me bleed!”

“Let me bleed-”

“Now your daughter’s not a girl no more!”

“Girl no more, girl no more-”

“Not at all your seed!”

Again, it’s silent for a brief moment, Peter sniffling the only sound in the room. And yet, he doesn’t reach out anymore. Instead, he stares blankly at May, attempting to collect his thoughts. He can’t do this- he can’t live in a world without his daughter- this was not his daughter. The second a note left her mouth, she was never his daughter. And yet, he couldn’t do anything about it- she was infected, she was gone, and it was Peter’s fault again.

Everything was Peter’s fault- her first gunshot wound, his divorce, her infection with the creature affecting all of New York.

Peter’s. Fault.

“I’m not your girl anymore.”

#Anonymous #Hello? || MESSAGES #[[LISTEN IM MCSOBBING #[[1) i went ham on the formatting im SORRY #[[and 2) UHHH PETER AND EDDIE GETTING DIVORCED?? OWIE #[[but peter is?? so fucking distraught over his little girl being LOST like this #[[i would write more but oufakjhdag quite frankly i'd make it TOO LONG #One And Only || PB #Nonrebellious Rebellion || MAY #New York: The Musical || TGWDLM VERSE #mind control tw #drug use ment.#Give It To Me Straight || DRABBLES

1 note · View note

profanesnare · 7 years

Text

im not doing the full meme because i dont have the energy to do it for random characters BUT i wanted to post some valant hcs so (under a cut bc this is a fucking monster of a post)

also warning for #abuse talk

A: what i think realistically

i wrote this section last bc most of my hcs fall under the other categories lmfao but uhh i dont imagine that valant spends a long time in prison following turning himself in because like, adrian did the same thing (altering a crime scene to frame someone) and she got out pretty quickly? but afterwards valant... doesnt really have a career to return to esp since his last big performance was involved in a murder and the investigation led to him having to reveal the technique used lol. sucks 2 be him

B: what i think is fucking hilarious

so ive talked about this before but hes got a Thing about like... having a very defined stage persona and not breaking character but also, you cant... wear magician clothes 24/7 you gotta have other Options so when he doesnt have the energy to be in-character and has to go like, get groceries or leave his apartment to do laundry or w/e he presents differently to the point of being unrecognizable (i imagine he styles his hair for shows and wears it differently when ooc and just, has super different mannerisms and body language and speech style)

and generally he avoids places he spends time in while ic so that people dont recognize him but like i imagine he probably has a side job? since his magic gigs canonically aren’t super popular

so im imagining him working at like, a grocery store or w/e and one time hes working and phoenix goes to his register to buy sth and its extremely uncomfortable because both of them kind of recognize the other esp bc i like to imagine theyd like... talked to each other a bit since phoenix’s disbarment because of valant visiting trucy (see below) and overall its very awkward and neither of them want to make eye contact and it never gets mentioned again

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

valant’s concept of family is very Fucked and also hes got issues, w/ authority mostly stemming from apprenticing under magnifi for a long period of time... i think it’s safe to say that magnifi was canon abusive to the other gramaryes and like, i v strongly hc valant as borderline which Doesnt Help lmao

and i know theres 0 canon info about valants life outside of his work so i can make up whatever i want so i say he isnt in touch with his bio family and didnt get along with them very well so when he was around 16-17 he just basically moved in with thalassa and magnifi (i havent worked out where zak fits into this yet) and magnifi became very much an Unpleasable Dad Figure that valant idolized and i think that valant was like.... aware that a lot of the way magnifi treated his apprentices and his daughter was not at all okay or defensible but didnt really want to admit it, and magnifi’s death didnt make that any easier lmfao

also this only sort of related but i want to include it- valant idealized zak for a long time and the similarities between zak and magnifi dont help with that, and i like to think that the two of them became v close after thalassa ran away? and neither of them really expected her to come back

and zak and thalassa getting married (? i dont remember if they officially got married in canon but i kind of assume they did) after her returning definitely felt like a betrayal from zak at least, i dont think valant blamed thalassa for it at all but it definitely solidified in valants mind that he was Unnecessary and like, i know zak is pretty objectively an asshole but imo valant didnt think of him that way despite splitting on him? valant interpreted those feelings more as jealousy than as like, justified anger on his part bc zak was the favored one, the Good one, and over time valant just. increasingly sort of accepted that he couldn’t be on zak’s level and that lead to a lot of bitterness

i have Thoughts about thalassa’s “death” also but this is super long already so i’ll save it for another post

D: what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so i believe it anyways

ok the fact that theres a four year age gap between valant and thalassa and valant and zak is BULLSHIT imo and i hate... female characters being markedly younger than men who are into them lmao and also theres no fucking reason they cant be the same age, it changes NOTHING about canon aside from making things a little less fucky So i like to just. pretend they were all born around 85-87 and knew each other as teenz

but also. what is even more bullshit is valant not visiting trucy for 7 years, what the fuck capcom i will fight you over this

SO gimme valant staying in touch with the wrights and like, its a bit weird because he knows phoenix is struggling financially and its kiind of his fault but phoenix feels really weird about accepting money from him because hes aware that valant is also struggling so mostly what happens is that valant like, periodically invites trucy and phoenix to like, get pancakes or go to festivals and its partly an Advertising opportunity for valant because he can be in persona and do tricks and usually there is some kind of small crowd around them by the end of it and trucy loves it and phoenix Hates it

just.... give me positive valant-trucy interactions ;________;

#valant blog #ass attorney

3 notes · View notes

dearracists-blog · 6 years

Text

Ive been hanged, shot at, beaten up publically in school, after church, drugged all before age of 7 .

I have a burn on my foot and scar on my other foot like jesus.

My parents claimed im not adopted but brutally use to beat me outside of my school.

I use to go school with welts on my back legs, face, ears , head.

I was forced to stay with random family members who would have me sleep on beds and wake up covered in sores.

Ive been raped before molested.

This is before 8 as well.

Miami florida.

Golden glades elem.

Right off 95 expressway ... and the palmetto.

Threatened to be killed after i was drugged again and raped by the supposed men on both sides of my family.

Same police officers and sherrif showed up. No one cared.

They claimed i was lying but in front of the office people who would give them belts and shoes to hit me.

I was constantly a punching bag.

Then comes the poisoning, tampering with food.

Joining jrotc.. this is literally in elem they visited and didnt care.

I was smart and etc .. people didnt care that i was being literally tortured by people in my school and at home practically . And these people would go right around new people and friends and work and public places and show no aggression, no complaints and would brutally attack me..

I would try to escape so much.

I remember my mother attacking me in walmart parking lots and aunts and i remember a stranger saying no leave her alone.

I remember people messing with my eyesight all the time and attacking me..

They literally tried to cover evedything up with a oh the person to write the reports isnt here or max is really rude and talk about me like i wasnt there and everytime i said no check the cameras where the audio no one cared..

I would get dragged by my shirt walking away.

It was until i beat up this one kid then i realized how bad they were treating me and making me become this bad person.

I had plans and all these things to become someone..

Literally i remember me and this girl making plans on what we would become and people in my class distracting me say hey come over here.. or dragg me to places..

I remember being set up.. i remember police not caring blatantly about my brother or cousins.. all in high school or graudated im in 3rd grade brutually beating me up till i bled.. literally out the mouth.. busted lip.. woke up to being raped.. drugged.. beaten up outside.

Police didnt care ... they would give me phones on 1 percent .. all types of things. Forced to take showers to grown men, strangers...

One of them got of jail , several and became teachers and work for the police and stuff..

I was in the admissions process for the gifted program and this boy.. that i was filmed doing things with and him setting me up with and this girl.. yeah..

They did hypnosis on me in a room.. he was white practically, the hypnotist white and the girl my skin color but her mom a teacher.

I was pretty much told nothing was going to be fair for me in life and if i wanted tk be safe i would tell them every creative thing i was gonna invent and plan .

At rhis point in my life i was writing down ideas on how to ivent phones and bring things into existance and try to start a small club of thinkers and we would watch new episodes of tv and scifi and find ways of inventing things and using real science methods..

Literally everything of mines stolen .. and beaten to the point i would run to school and places after being suspended or attacked or after schools over because my mother would go crazy.

She shaved off her head and my brother started locking it and they would both set me up. My little brother grew up to hate me.

I would constantly give them ideas on what to do and how to do it because wikipedia and library books aree my best friend...

They tried to force me to drink liqour , my cousins to smoke weed.

I woke up with cuts inbetween my legs and on my feet one time.. at a relatives house .. umm

Not stretch marks.. literally razor sharp im sitting on a pad cuts. And heard someone come to the door saying can we kill him yet.

No one cared.

Hmm what else, ive been stabbed by people who showed up to thanksgiving and parties.. kicked out of houses and people calling the police on me saying i ran away..

Teachers laughed at me .. said eww well we cant do anything youre not enrolled right now or im off clock. All types of bullshit excuses..

Im currently in tampa and walking down the street to get food and cars are playing the radio saying why you running from me..

I was just kicked out again and they just stole my money again .. literally...

The amount in the past four years and me being threatened to be killed and them telling police they havent.. over 10,000

Literally missing.. no body had come to look for me to wonder where the money went.

Ive been raped, my father and his friends pimped me out and threatened to kill me or have this boy i knew since elem stab me in my side again..

They are military people, nurses, car painters, etc.. and church goers.. remind you my foot since 3rd grade looks like jesuses on ..

And my older brother has stolen money from me and pimped me out too and have me into a mental hospital.

Hmmm, not even a year ago, and theyve done this twice now.. ( drive me from my aunts in fort lauderdale to my mothers in virginia after threatening to kill me and calling the police)

Ive just left a apartment complex..

They lived at the Hamptons in both brandon fl and north lauderdale and tried to fight me and had me spend my last food stamp money on them and kick me out.

Ive been sexually harassed and tried to be forced into sex both times ..

Since being young, i would be in hospitals in the emergnecy room .. either stabbed.. or the flesh on my hands being eaten away by the hands soaps or touching a product. My aunt worked in macys and fathers cars..

They would leave rags in plqces. Find blood in random places ..

I would drink juices they made me after saying no numerous times .. them saying stpp being paranoid and having itches and breakouts.

Everytime i came up with something and was able to visually break down how something was down using common sense or research methods since young ... nonstop torture..

I was promised money, i was promised protection nothing.

Ive been called nigger , fagfot, threatened to be killed, throat slit, called terrorist etc...

I dont even remember my name being Maxali sometimes .

My mother the violent one has gottwn babied nonstop by friends and my teachers and im like wtf is wrong with you all..

Ive been to fake funerals..

Ive dated people and people lied and said they died and thoose people showed right back up..

People farted in my faces.. literally a past pastor ive met in miami as a child was in virginia at a workplace that hired me... the father of the girl who i was forced to be with.. people who were around last time i got beaten up...

They claimed it was because of coke.. i thought cocaine ... nothing to do with me..

How was my mothers suppise father miltary or a vet but ive seen him old walking the streets in gear .. and the abusive people on my fathers side saying that him and mothers side saying .. we dont wanna hear it.

Ive been sex trafficked , tsrgeted, beaten up by strangers, family , friends since grade school and its always been a excuse.

I have always been led into things that had nothing to do with me and out of my ranking, grade, class, race, political affliation..

I dont even know if this message is gonna go through.

Ive seen men who look like a past father before the abusive one show up..

Im just not with the nonsense. Its repeative.

Literally rapists, child molesters, cokeheads, dreams ruined all types of stuff.

And they all work.. and they claimed it was all types of disorders.

Ive been left in rokms wirh flashing lifhts and beaten up..

This is before 18 remind you .. and no one asks questions..

Its my father or someone i know .

That rapes me and forces me on drugs and says it didnt happen..

Ive had to hid phones with evidence..

I literally always encounter strangers who stalk me or do weird suggestive and creepy things..

And feel wwird sensations after cars rev by in ford trucks and etc.

Muscle convulsions, music sauing faggot or fuck you why you running. Smell drugs. Hear laughter ..

Feel my body tighten up in inappropraite places. .

I drink juice and eat food and suddenly followed after feeling my head itching .. head hair on head not gentials and my butt clenches up and a strangers is nearby.. like wtf.

Its always a set up.

A girl that looks just like the from the program of whatever was around as well.. like wtf..

0 notes

skleatherbound · 16 years

Text

Revenge ~story~ Storm Kitten

Revenge Storm Kitten by kimbra_ailis Storm walked through the monastery slowly. It was dead silent except for the occasional sound of her soft leather boots touching the hard stone floor. There was no real reason that she needed to use stealth, the occupants werent going to be any the wiser, now. This was the way she had come in so all that were in the hall now laid dead, some still bleeding. Candles burned low but gave more than enough light to see the slaughter that covered the hall. The same slaughter and death was through out the building. They had not been a challenge for her. For this slaughter she had used a pair of arm blades which usually caused more trouble than they were worth so she rarely used them in day to day life. Now she only used them because the mood had hit and she thought they might actually have some use, mutilation. Well she did use them though she turned them on her arm so the blade ran with her palm rather than on her back of her arm. Blood covered them though she used them only to hear the men and women scream before she killed them. For the finally blow her weapon of choice was a pair of daggers, now sheathed in her boots. The daggers were efficient and easily hide away. They were far from fragile and doubled at throwing daggers. Surprisingly she had managed to stay rather clean of the blood and what little she got on her did not matter much, she could clean up later. She had feed on several of the more interesting people on the second and third floor. And of course she had drank from the one she had come for, he had cause to much problem to simply kill him. The bastard had tried to kill her and then he ran before she had her turn. He had run a sword through her stomach, just below her rib cage and surprisingly he had not hit anything too vital, the sword is rammed into a tree and pushes against her ribs to hold her up. . As if that has not been enough he proceeded to break several of her ribs. After that he thought he had dominated her, though she now lay near death on the ground he had been a fool for not making sure she was dead before leaving her. Only by luck did someone, several hours later, come by and try to help her. Once the sword was removed she was able to begin to heal but she had lost much blood and had been badly weakened. Really she was not sure how she had not died but apparently fate was too cruel to let that happen. Gaining her strength back she knew she had to begin to track him down, one good turn deserved another. It had been a good lesson that if you tried to kill someone and failed they had a turn and try, usually they succeeded. She had tracked him to this monastery and upon arriving she could feel the hunger rise in her. Unfortunately for the residents they had tried to hide him, they had lied to her repeatedly even upon their last breath. For these people she had no remorse for the lost of their life. Throughout the monastery she had killed each person she came across, thinking he might come out to face her rather than let all these people die needlessly. The coward had hid and refused to come out so she slowly killed anyone she came across and in the end she took her time with the one whom she had sought. Had he simply come out she may have gotten bored and simply killed him, but since he had to be difficult her blood lust had grown and she wanted to watch him bleed and hear the echo of his screams and cries. Once he was dead her business here was done she was on her way out. The halls were silent and her mind was quiet. She was unsure if guilt would come later or not. Sometimes when she avenged a wrong there would be guilt for the death she had caused and other times there was nothing but satisfaction. Something suddenly made her stop just as she reached the second floor. After a moment she heard a voice or a sound like a voice. Moving cautiously she rounded the corner and walked down the hall, daggers in hand. Something moved behind her and she turned in time to see something disappear down the stairs. Forgetting caution she races down the stairs. She slows seeing a small form sitting on the bottom step next to a still form. Looking again she can see the form is a child of age 4 or 5. The little girl is crying and seems to have forgotten her purser. Storm slows and comes to a complete stop only a few steps above the girl. Somehow she must have missed the child on her first sweep. Watching the child she can feel the hunger leaving and then a slight guilt for having killed so many and apparently this childs parents. Sighing she walks down the remaining stairs and kneels down next to the child. The child turns from the bloody form of a man and grabs a hold of Storm, beginning to cry all over again. Shocked and not knowing what else to do she simply holds the girl. Finally her cries subside and Storm watches her, remembering her own childhood. Wiping away the girls tears she stands and in one of the rooms quickly finds a flask of wyne and a cup. Sitting down beside the child she pours a small cup. "Ill give you a choice, child. Think on this because it will change your life. I am going to give you the chance to choose your own fate. Do you want to be with your parents or do you want to live?" Before the child can answer Storm looks away, suddenly aware she is not alone. An old man steps out of the shadows, apparently he had just arrived back to the monastery to find the destruction. He looks horrified at her, the blades on her arms, then to the child sitting on the steps. Drawing a sword thinking he might be next he appears that he might try to stand against her. Giving him only a strange look, Storm turns her attention back to the child. One old man does not mean much to her at the moment. "So what will you choice be, child?" Seeing the tears in the girls eyes she knows the childs choice. Nodding she brings the cup to her lips and blows gently on the surface of the liquid wyne. She is about to hand the cup the child when the old man moved forward and Storm was on her feet dagger in hand, the wyne cup in the other. After counting his first attack, he staggers back and she sets the cup down. A short fight ensues and he ends up with several small cuts, breathless, and against a wall with no weapon. Backing away from him slowly she looks over her shoulder to see the child slumped against the wall with the wyne cup in her hand, empty. Sighing she turns her back on the old man and checks the girl, she is dead. Hearing a sob she turns to look at the man. For the first time she notices that he is a priest of some kind, a priest to this monastery? She did not know to which god this monastery belonged and at the moment she found she did not care too much. There wasnt much more any god could do to her that she hadnt been through or felt. The old man was slumped against the wall watching her, almost like he was studying her. "What kind of demon are you? Do you have no remorse, no guilt for what you have done to the innocent here? May God send your soul to be damned." For moment she ignores him trying to think whether she should go or kill him, upon hearing him damn her she walks quickly over to him. She was furious that he would meddle in thing further than he already has. Grabbing him by his shirt she brings him inches from her face, then slams him back against the wall. A low growl escapes her lips. " Listen old man, it would be wise if you learned quickly when things can not be helped. As for the manner of demon I am, ask your god surely he will be able to tell you before I know for myself. Letting the child die was the most remorseful thing I could do for I know what life will bring when there is no hope. In case you havent noticed, I am already damned. There is not much more that can be done to me." Letting him go she slowly steps back watching him. Fear has gone from his face replaced with curiosity. She knows he does not fear death, he is too old to be and has too much faith in his god. Knowing she should go, she does not move nearly fast enough to the door. He watched her as if peering not her soul, unnerved she turns to go and is just about to the door when he finally speaks. " Child, wait Please do not go yet. I spoke rashly but give me a chance to make amends. This is a chance rarely given and I am too old to wait for another." Storm laughs thinking she slammed him too hard into the wall. Looking at him in amusement she realized he was not joking and was dead serious. Closing her eyes and cursing to herself and to any god listening. Thinking the deity must have gave up trying physical pain and decided to go with emotional pain. Opening her eyes he still watched not understanding her gesture. " First I am no child, I must be nearly three times your age, though I dont hardly look much older than your oldest grandchild. What opportunity do you think you have now? A chance to die or a chance to defeat a demon? Deities have a very sick sense of humor when it comes to life and punishment, did you know that? My only explanation is death must be too good for some, because no matter how we court it, it stays just out of reach. I thought I could avoid it by letting the child choose her path and here you come and make my life even harder. Remind me I should have killed you when you drew your sword, at least that way there was a very small chance the guilt would let me be for a moment." Her words seem strange to him and he is slow to understanding her meaning. When he finally comprehends he begins to laugh softly. Slowly walking away from the wall he begins down the hall, beckoning her to follow. Reluctantly she follows knowing better than to refuse, deities had away to get their revenge one way or another. Life had taught her to go with it the first time because some would actually be merciful. He led her to a room nearly half way down the hall, it was just about the only room she did not kill someone. Arriving at the door he waved her in first but quickly changed his mind after seeing the look of suspicion in her eyes. Sighing he went in sitting at the far wall letting her take the chair closet to the door. at first she is reluctant to sit down and simply stands, watching him from the doorway. " What is it that makes you kill so furiously and apparently without remorse and without prejudice, yet join me freely instead of killing me? I am a man with power yet I feel dwarfed by you. You appear without guilt but I can sense that within you and He shows me some images that surprise even me." Hearing his last comment she nearly runs from the room. The last person she had heard those words from was now dead and he had been wrong. He had not been the first but he had been like the rest, all of them had been wrong. Taking a breath she tried to push his image from her mind. " I dont know what you expect of me, I have heard it all before. There is a darkness with in me that is uncontrollable and is not even matched in size by my guilt or hunger for blood. My punishment for this is inability to die easily, if at all, and the constant reminder of what I am. My mind is unstable for the most part and my temper is unpredictable. The darkness demands to be released and is only held in check by an overwhelming guilt of my past and all the damn voices, though I know they will not always hold it in check. You may believe I can beat this darkness but you will not be the first to say those words. Normally I hear them before I kill but you say them after I have slaughtered." He seems surprised but he does not interrupt her but instead lets her talk on. She does not look at him, her focus seems to be an imaginary point. After a few minutes she begin to play with a strand of hair and he notices. Gathering her thoughts she slowly continues. "Why is that people have faith in me when I cannot even see any light within myself? It comes down to the pain, the guilt, the darkness, the hunger, and the voices. I have known several paladins and only one walked away from me alive though I deeply considered killing him. doesnt that say something when you can kill something with direct power from their god? I am here after a man that tried to kill men, who had failed. What kind of creature lives after having been pinned to a tree with a sword though its stomach? What kind of creature? What kind of god would let a creature like that live?" Waiting for him to answer she knows he will not answer. He does not know any of the answers. Watching him she knew she had been wrong to stay. Always she hoped for answers she could not find and this had been another wasted time to bring memories back. Sighing she watches him for only a moment longer before turning and walking out the door. She slips down the hall and out the front door, not to return. The sun will be up in several hours but till then she knew she would have to face the shadows of the past. It had been a long while since she remembered those paladins and the high it had given her to kill them. As well as the guilt that would later rack her mind. Their god let them die but he would have his revenge. Finding Kendra she also shifts to her panther form and they disappear into the darkness.

#story #Storm Kitten

0 notes