#this man is one kidnapping away from abandoning every belief he’s ever had | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

Church (Choi San) Rated

Pairing: Choi San × Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, College AU, Friends to Enemies(?), Enemies to Lovers (?)

Summary: He used to be her best friend until he abandoned not only his childhood beliefs, but her in the process. One night, he decides to show her a glimpse of what she's been missing out on. Inspired by Chase Atlantic's Church .

Word Count: 6.3+K

Warnings: Mentions of religious beliefs, brazen college parties, allusions to alcohol/nicotine intake, body insecurity (reader has small breasts), oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, body worship/praise, slight cumplay, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (always use protection), slight corruption kink, inexperienced reader, experienced San. (Probably forgot something)

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @brie02 @deja-vux @a-soft-hornytiny @multidreams-and-desires @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie

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The infamous rebel let out a pernicious snicker when he saw the serene and usually proper former acquaintance walk in his direction.

"Are my eyes deceiving me or is that really the pastor's prissy little daughter out past her bedtime in a college party?" He found the situation much too amusing that he just had to point it out.

"I have a name you know." The female he was referring to halted in her steps to turn her head and give him an unkind and unfriendly look.

"You have several, actually. There's goody two shoes, priss, prude, prig-"

"Oh shut the fuck up Choi San." She scoffed as she began walking away from him, already feeling annoyed by his presence.

The man trailed after her, his face donning a shocked expression as he flailed his arms around in a dramatic way.

"Guys it's happening! The apocalypse is really here if L/N Y/N has not only attended a wild party full of debauchery, but her mouth has actually uttered out cursed words!" He shouted out, the other attendants either joining in laughing at her or ignoring him in favor of the bottles or sticks in their fingers.

"I'm surprised you even know what that word means." She turned to look at him with a mocking smile, arms crossed over her chest.

"Please, I know a lot more than you have ever pretended to know." He clicked his tongue, elbow coming up to rest on the wall next to him.

"Is that why you turnt corrupt and abandoned everything you believe in?" She couldn't help but spat back at him.

"Hey at least I was honest and didn't hide it like you people who lead double lives. Preaching one thing but living the total opposite. You're all nothing but a bunch of hypocrites." The venom in his voice was unmistakable, nose scrunching up in disgust as he remembered gross sins he had more often than not had witnessed from people who claimed to be pure and holy.

"I do not lead a double life." She remarked.

"Oh really? Then why the hell are you here in a college party? Full of alcohol, drugs and walking STDs? Riddle me that princess." His foot tapped against the floor, patiently awaiting an answer from her.

Y/N swallowed the non existent lump in her throat and turned her gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

"I just wanted to see what it was like. Just once." She admitted begrudgingly, the man in front of her chuckling lowly.

"Well you sure are going to have a lot to confess on Sunday to your dad. Silly girl, walking into the lion's pit like this." He jeered at her.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Just because I came here doesn't mean I've done anything morally wrong." She counteracted his words to which he only snorted.

"Yet."

Tired of his overly obnoxious attitude, Y/N spun on her heel to get away from him, but she spun so carelessly and fast that she ended up bumping into another classmate who unfortunately was holding a full cup of beer that ended up being doused all over her white blouse.

"Oops! Sorry, my bad." He excused himself, looking completely unapologetic about the situation.

Meanwhile Y/N looked absolutely horrified as she took in the drenched state of her shirt that now had the stench of alcohol on it. The fact San was bursting out in giggles only served to make her even more mad.

"Now tell me how do you plan on explaining that to dear old-"

"Can it San or I swear I'll gauge your eyes out." She threatened him as she stormed out the building, not caring that she bumped into a few figures on her way out.

Feeling just a bit of empathy for his old friend, San sighed softly before following after her. Upon catching up to her, he took hold of her wrist and started dragging her in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Get your filthy hands off me! I will not hesitate to scream!" She tried tugging her arm away.

"Calm down I'm not planning on kidnapping or anything like that sweetheart. I'm taking you back to my car."

She let out a dry laugh at that.

"But that's not kidnapping?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have a spare shirt in the backseat that you can change into. Unless you wanna go home smelling like PBR." He looked back to see the mess one more time, lips curling up into a smirk.

Against her better judgment, she allowed him to take her all the way where his car was parked, standing there quietly as San rummaged through the backseat before taking out a clean plain white tshirt and held it out to her.

"Here. Put it on."

She looked at him with a face that asked if he was stupid.

"Well what?" He asked.

"Oh yes..I'm totally going to strip in a middle of the street and let anyone passing by see." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh for fuck's sake, there's nobody here, nobody is going to see and frankly I don't think anyone cares about seeing your non existent boobs." He scorned at her as he gestured to her chest.

"Ok rude and uncalled for." She felt slightly hurt by his comment, having always been somewhat insecure about the size of her chest.

"Don't look." She warned him.

"Not like I want to." He jeered at her as he turned away to not only give her privacy, but to also serve as a lookout for anyone that might accidentally show up and see the scene. He could hear her behind him tearing off her clothes and then slipping it back on.

"Ok there. I'm done." Y/N announced as she stuffed the soiled shirt into her bag.

"Not even a thank you?" San pouted slightly, to which Y/N gave a feigned smile.

"Thanks."

With that said and done, she brushed past him and started walking away, absolutely done with the night.

"Careful not to get caught sneaking back inside your house." She heard San say from behind.

"For your information I'm not living with them anymore. I moved into the dorms 2 months ago." She stated in a matter of factly, a proud look on her face.

"Well in that case....want to ride back with me?" He offered.

"Yeah no, I'd rather take my chances at being kidnapped and then butchered up. Besides, I wouldn't want to cut your wild night short." She declined the offer.

"Stop being so negative Nancy and accept my generosity. Geez."

Running over to her, he quickly snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her shocked exclaims and protests.

"Now this is really kidnapping!" She declared.

"Yeah I know, now shut up before I duct tape that bratty mouth of yours." San grinned mischievously as he tossed her into the backseat and shut the door before striding over to get on the driver's seat.

"Oh come on. Stop looking at me like I'm a criminal. Just because I indulge in a few sins every now and then, doesn't make me into a bad person." He stated when he saw the dirty look she gave him.

"Whatever." She muttered as she locked in her seatbelt.

San opted for just driving back to the dorms and get Y/N tucked in her bed since it was clear to him she needed it.

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"You're lucky my roommate is on vacation, otherwise I would have left your ass back there." Y/N spewed out as she threw her keys onto her dresser.

"Thanks Y/N, I always said you were the nicest and most giving person in the planet." San complimented her as he felt he should given she was letting him stay the night in her dorm after a little tiny incident with his keys dropping inside one of the manholes surrounding the university. And the administration office wouldn't be open til the morning, meaning he was screwed unless his roommate showed up to let him in, but that was a definite no since San knew Seonghwa would definitely end up in someone else's bed and come back til the next day, hickeys plastered all over his neck and chest.

"No, you always said I was the most stuck up-"

San shushed her by pressing a hand over her mouth.

"You dwell so much on the present image of me you drew up in your head that you completely erased the friend you had all those years ago." He slid his hand off her mouth, shoulders slumping down as he turned away from her to crouch on the floor.

"That friend doesn't exist anymore, that is if he even existed in the first place. If I recall, my friend wasn't into parties, booze, vaping, tattoos, piercings and fucking around with every whore in the school."

San didn't say anything as he heard her ramble, he just let her talk away as she started pulling out spare blankets and pillows for him to use.

"My Sannie was sweet, cute, adorable, always ready to lend people help and respectful to others." She reminisced with a sad look. Pulling her expression straight, she laid out the blankets and started arranging them neatly on the floor.

"I still am."

San's voice was so quiet that she barely registered that he even opened his mouth in the first place, but she heard him.

"Maybe if you weren't so puffed up with pride and didn't cut me off after I cut ties with the church, you'd see that I'm still the way I was. You think I changed completely because of ink and metal on my body? Because I wanted to try certain substances and yes, satisfy some perfectly normal and humane needs?"

Y/N averted her gaze from him and continued the task she was in. San let out a despondent scoff.

"Of course you do. And yet didn't I just demonstrate to you back there that I haven't changed? Giving you my shirt, giving you a ride, yeah I know, it's not much and no big deal, but wasn't those the types of things I'd do even back then?"

Y/N's tongue poked against her cheek as she knew she couldn't deny that was San said was absolutely true. He did nothing different back at the party as he used to do years ago. Helping old ladies with grocery bags, giving away some of his clothes to less fortunate kids, he was always known as being such a giving and kind person.....

No wonder so many were devastated when it was announced he had resigned as a member of the church. Y/N herself was hurt and even indignated by his decision. And after that she adamantly refused to see him or talk to him, and of course San respected her decision and avoided contacting her so as to not make her uncomfortable. He understood that their friendship was broken and he wasn't going to overstep boundaries just to try and fix it when the other party didn't want it. So he just decided to live his life as he thought was right without his conscience bothering him. And he was much happier now, he felt free, something that he had never felt before. Perhaps he was so chained down by formality, discipline, strict regulations and even fear that he didn't realize that he was miserable all that time until his eyes were fully open and he found he didn't like what he saw, especially after seeing the dark and ugly side of what was supposed to be a safe and pure sanctuary. He was let down severely and he suffered in the process. But now that was behind him and he had no regrets......

Except Y/N. He truly missed her and her company. As he laid on the makeshift bed on the floor, he found himself unable to sleep as he recalled all those fond times spent with her. The trips to the lake, hiking, first day of school, their first accident after he had gotten his driver's license. He let out an involuntary smile at that memory. Unbeknownst to him, the girl on her bed was equally reminiscing on the old days filled with her best friend. She had been so alone ever since she distanced herself from him, the world now feeling empty and cold without him. Shifting around in her bed, she whined into her pillow as she desperate tried to sleep.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?" Her question startled San momentarily.

"Are you that sleep deprived that you're suddenly asking me to confess my worst sins?" He chuckled amusedly.

"Maybe it'll help me get actual sleep, I don't know. And.... I'm just curious." She clutched one of her plushies and started messing around with it.

"Curiosity killed the cat and I don't think your virgin mind will be able to handle my confession." He asserted confidently.

"I'm not a virgin, but oh well. Just tell me, what's the worst?" Her casual response made San flip out. He sat upright and kneeled at the front of her bed with an incredulous look.

"What do you mean you're not a virgin? When did you-?" He was so flabbergasted he wouldn't even finish his sentence.

Rolling over to where he was, Y/N smirked at him.

"Uh uh. I asked you a question first and you have to answer it before I can answer any you want."

Knowing he had no alternative, San placed his chin on the top of her mattress.

"Had a threesome with 2 of our professors." He laughed when he saw how shocked Y/N looked.

"What?! No way!" She refused to believe him.

"It's true. I won't tell you who they were since you won't be able to look at them the same way if I did...... I'll just dish this: they both got really huge tits and it's a shame they're married." He admitted with a smug expression.

"I can't believe you." She fanned her face which she was sure was now a deep crimson color.

"Ok now your turn. When did this happen? Who was it with?"

Y/N didn't even mind that San got up and crawled into her bed to lay down next to her. His face was rested on his hands as he looked at her with intense inquisitiveness. Knowing she'd have to talk about it sooner or later, she thought it would be best if San was the one to know since he would never tell anyone else and he'd understand since he was tainted as well.

"Remember when that group of missionaries came to stay over at our city for a while back in high school?"

San nodded, vividly remembering everything. Y/N blushed and smiled shyly.

"Do you remember that there was a family with a son our age? Chase?"

San widened his eyes and flopped over on his back as his hands came to hide his face.

"Oh dear lord, please don't tell me it was that Canadian boy." He groaned in pain.

"Yeah....yeah it was."

San couldn't stop cringing at the thought of his friend doing such a thing.

"How even did that happen?" He was so lost.

"I don't know! It just did ok? It happened while we were out in that camping trip. Somewhere there, we were left alone and we started talking about everything and nothing til it spiraled into talking about sex and us being virgins decided to see what was the big deal....." She bit her lower lip as the memory flashed in her mind. Looking over at San, she knew he was judging her as she expected. A tiny snort escaped his lips.

"That must have been the worst 45 seconds of your life." He joked, earning him a slap on his chest by Y/N's hand.

"It was not 45 seconds!............. it was 2 minutes."

San only laughed harder at that, nearly crying from how funny it was to him. He composed himself though when he saw how embarrassed Y/N looked about it. Feeling bad for laughing at her expense, he cleared his throat and patted her head.

"It's ok. First times are always awkward and uncomfortable. The problem was you weren't prepared and you were both inexperienced. He just didn't know how to please you."

Y/N couldn't help herself as she asked:

"And I suppose you can?"

Flipping onto his stomach, San cupped her chin with his hand and ran his thumb across her lower lip.

"Don't tread on dangerous territory little angel lest you want an evil demon to corrupt you." He warned her, and although he wouldn't actually follow through on it, he did want to tease her a little. But he wasn't expecting for Y/N to play along to his teasing, only she was not joking at all as she brought her face closer to his.

"Maybe I want you to corrupt me, show me what I've been missing out on." She brushed her lips against his, tongue daring to poke out and press on his slit briefly, leaving him stunned.

"You have no idea what you're asking for princess." San mused as he held himself back from touching her.

"I know what I'm asking for Choi San and what I'm asking for....is you." She responded with confidence.

Escaping from underneath the blanket that covered her, Y/N reclined back on the mattress, her head laying on her soft pillow as she gestured for San to come over to her, which he promptly did. Parting her legs so he could fit his body between them, he smirked softly down at her eagerness, fingers brushing against the soft skin on her thighs.

"You're serious about this?" He wanted to make sure it wouldn't be something she'd regret.

"I already messed up once, what's one more time gonna do?" She pulled him down against her, not caring when he lost balance and accidentally crushed her under him with his muscular body.

"Besides...." Wanting to further entice him, Y/N brushed her lips against his ear.

"Look at me and tell me you don't want to fuck me. That you don't want to stuff that hard cock of yours into my tight and inexperienced pussy. Bet you're itching to tear into me until I'm crying under you. Don't you want that?"

San let out a moan at hearing such filthy and depraved talk from her. It only fueled his appetite and hunger for indulging in carnal desires.

"Yes... I want that.... I want you."

Closing space between them, San molded his lips over hers, encasing them in a sloppy and wet kiss. Y/N could faintly make out the leftover scent of alcohol and nicotine as she let him taste her mouth, but she didn't mind or felt grossed out by it. She just kept her lips parted and allowed him to move his tongue freely inside her. Cupping her cheeks, San continued to roll his tongue over hers, massaging it gently with both deep yet gentle strokes. When he pulled away, he made sure to tuck her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it towards him as Y/N let out a moan that was like music to his ears. Pausing briefly, their lips were barely touching as they breathed in each other's air. San was the first one to break into a smile, the one that had Y/N melting since it displayed his dimples to the fullest.

"Never thought I'd hear that sound come out of your pretty mouth." He teased her.

"S-shut up." She frowned, hand reaching up to smack his chest.

"It's not a bad thing. I like it. Now let's see if I can make sure you keep them up."

Stuffing his face into her neck, San ghosted his lips across her skin, tongue subtly poking out solely to hear her breath hitch slightly. Dipping his tongue into her collarbone, his lips opened up so they could firmly latch and spread wet kisses across her neck. Y/N gasped when she felt teeth sink down, head tilting back to give San more room which he took advantage of. Focusing on particular spots that he knew she was sensitive in, he sucked her skin into his mouth. Each time he pulled away, he reveled when he saw the finished mark that was now painted on her skin.

"I would love to see your parent's reaction to my love bites." He brushed a fingers across the newest spot he just embedded in her body, hand then reaching up to suddenly clasp around her neck. Y/N shuddered when his grip got tighter, her oxygen intake getting cut and making her feel hazy, but it was nonetheless enjoyable. Snaking a hand under her shirt, or more like his shirt, San swiped his tongue over his bottom lip as he started to pull the material up.

"How about I make some matching ones all across your pretty chest?"

Before he could lift the shirt any further, Y/N's hand clasped around his wrist, preventing him from moving any further.

"Don't." She begged him.

San retracted his hands away from her, fearing he made her uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologized and began to move away from her, but Y/N's hands raked against his thighs to keep him in place.

"No, it's not you. It's just..... if we're going to do this, can I keep the shirt on? I don't...." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she admitted an insecurity of hers.

"I don't like my chest. My boobs are too small, it's unflattering and I'd rather you not see them." She slowly opened her eyes to see his reaction. San had a sad look on his face, bottom lip poking out as his fingers came up to brush against her cheek. Remembering what he had previously said back in the parking loyal, he felt terrible for saying that ill intended joke about her body. He probably hurt her and he didn't realize it.

"Y/N don't say that. Your chest size doesn't matter. You're beautiful the way you are and I bet underneath that layer is clothing there is the cutest and most adorable set of boobs in the world." She let out an involuntary giggle at his words, letting him run his hand down her clothed sternum.

"But if that's what you want, I'll respect it. Either way, my tshirt looks amazing on you." He acknowledged rather cockily.

Shifting further back, San took hold of the top of her shorts, making sure to look at her.

"Are you ok with these coming off?"

Y/N resisted the temptation to slap the top of his head.

"If you don't take them off, how are you going to fuck me genius?" She retorted.

"You'd be surprised at what I've learned." He uttered, mostly to himself than at her.

Like an expert, he practically tore her shorts down her legs, panties falling to the floor along with them. Y/N let out a soft squeal when he took hold of her thighs and brought her down so his face was at eye level with her most intimate part. San took a few seconds to admire her bare mound, lips parted and threatening to start drooling all over her thighs. Pressing both thumbs against each one is her lips, San pried her folds open, staring intently as he now clearly saw all of her.

"Oh fuck. I'm gonna need to prep you real good. I can tell you're going to be really tight."

She wanted to ask him what he meant by prep, but her words got caught in her throat when she felt his tongue delve into her core. She had never felt someone's mouth anywhere near her folds and she regretted not having experienced it before. Her eyes shut tight as she marveled at the sensation of San's tongue lapping at her bud, his lips making sure to enclose all around the flesh surrounding it before giving it gentle suckles. Shaky breaths blew out from her mouth, her legs wanting to close themselves around San's head but his firm grip on her thighs kept it from happening. He kept her knees pinned to the bed as his mouth continued to ravish at her taste, sloppily consuming her heat fervently. Her mind was so occupied in what he was doing that she didn't register the hand that slowly crept away from her thigh until she felt something poke at her entrance.

"Oh-" She gasped, opening her eyes to see what was going on.

"Relax princess. It's just my finger.....for now." He momentarily pulled off her heat to let her know what was happening before diving back in to continue his task of eating her out.

His finger inside her felt a little weird at first, sliding in slowly before pulling out only to plunge itself back into her. During one of those times where she expected him to slide back in, she was surprised when she felt herself being stretched out as San curled a second finger inside her. Keeping them lodged there, he began scissoring them alternatively so he could further spread her walls apart. During one of those movements, his fingertips brushed along her hood, making her hips slightly jolt up into San's face, who smiled against her folds as he now knew exactly where to angle his hips for later. Using this new knowledge, that was probably unbeknownst to Y/N, he slipped his fingers deeper into her, knuckles deep as he moved his tips rhythmically on the the spot he found. Y/N's mouth fell wide open into an 'O' as whiny gasps and airy moans poured out of it. San's mouth latched to her clit and his fingers working deep in her hole was producing a stirring in the lower pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite make out. But it felt good, especially since it continued to grow more and more, almost as if it was a cord about to snap.

"San- wait. I feel, I feel-" She couldn't finish her sentence as her body trembled slightly, a flood of overwhelming pleasure washing over her that was prolonged by San drinking up the juices that spilled forth out of her body. He didn't pull away until he made sure to swallow every drop she had to give.

"Aren't you grossed out?" She asked him, always having wondered about that.

"Nope. I love licking girl's pussies, especially if they're as sweet as yours." He affirmed while pulling his shirt off his body.

Y/N turned her flustered face away from him, keeping her gaze locked on the wall to her right, which was decorated with several polaroids of her with her family, friends and members of her church, some of them even had San in them, back when they were inseparable. Before she could become nostalgic, a strong set of hands clutched her chin and teared her gaze away from the pictures, forcing her to stare at the now naked man in front of her.

"Forget about that for now. Right now I want your full attention on me and what we're about to do. After we're done, that image of a good girl you have will gone." His words seemed to almost taunt her.

Although she tried not to look, Y/N's eyes fell in between San's legs, filled with astonishment when she glimpsed for the very first time at her former friend's member, fully erect and leaking at the tip as it awaited to be hugged by her warm walls.

"Like it? Maybe later I'll let you play with it." San giggled when her eyes shot up at him in surprise.

Placing himself to hover above her, he hummed lowly as he slowly stuffed himself inside her, working her open until he was fully nestled inside her warmth. Although she felt a light burn scraping against her inner walls, it wasn't unpleasant or painful like her first time. She could tell San knew exactly what he was doing as he began rolling his hips. Perfectly recalling exactly where to aim at, he made sure to angle his thrusts accordingly so each time he pushed back in, he'd hit her pleasure spot.

"Oh God-" Y/N exclaimed when he continued to brushed against the hood of her core.

"Really think it's a good idea to call out the good lord's name when I'm balls deep inside your pussy?" He asked with a malicious smirk plastered across his face.

"No baby. Tonight your only lord is me."

Pinning her wrists above her head, San continued pushing his cock deeper into her. The harsh pounding of his hips against hers was becoming louder, their bodies starting to get heated and producing sweat. Y/N couldn't do anything but whimper and wrap her legs around San's waist, keeping him firmly locked to her body. She closed her eyes once more as she felt the same familiar feeling from before start piling up, only it felt more intense and stronger probably due to the fact that she was getting railed to her bed by her ex best friend, whom she still cared about deeply. She was definitely not planning on making up with him this way, but holy hell, she couldn't deny that he was making her feel so many emotions at once. Pleasure, lust, satisfaction, happiness, euphoria, love? Perhaps that last one was definitely a stretch, but she blamed her confused thoughts on how well his cock was abusing her hole. She felt unable to focus on anything except him.

"Clenching so hard around me babygirl. Are you gonna cum all over my cock?"

Slipping one hand in between their bodies, San pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it back and forth so it would serve as an extra push to tip her over the edge. Y/N splayed her hands on San's lower back, nails raking against his skin, causing him to hiss.

"Fuck- am I seriously making you feel that good babygirl?" He knew for a fact he was feeling absolutely amazing, her tight warmth gripping along his shaft, making it hard for him to hold back much longer.

"Mmm yeah." She shamelessly moaned.

"Am I better than your first?" Although he already knew the answer, he still wanted to feed his ego and hear her say it.

"So much better! It feels so fucking good." She inhaled sharply when that she began to feel the sensation from before. With even louder cries from before, her body shook underneath San's, blood rushing to her head as an even greater orgasm coursed through her body. She was left speechless, a full on panting mess even after San had pulled out of her after helping her ride out her high.

"Oh geez. Shit." San's voice rasped out as he jerked himself off, his cum painting her thighs white, not stopping until he had finished coating them with everything he had to give.

Looking down at the mess, Y/N couldn't suppress a tiny giggle, one of her hands clasping over her mouth while the other picked up some of his cum and spread it between her fingers.

"Having fun there?" San grinned, finding her fascinated gaze to be completely adorable to him.

"Yeah.." She said as sat up to get a better look at the cum around her thighs.

"Well I was going to clean it off you, but seeing as you're so entertained by it, I'll just leave you with it."

Not forgetting that he was merely a guest, San slid himself off her bed and plopped his tired body onto the blankets on the floor. Closing his eyes, he was thinking he would finally be able to sleep, but he found his plans thwarted when he felt a pair of hands graze across his chest. Looking up, he found Y/N straddling his lap, biting down on her lower lip as she grinded her wet folds along his softened dick which was now becoming hard again thanks to her.

"What in the world are you doing you crazy girl?" He sucked in a breath, not expecting her to suddenly pounce on him.

"I wanna try that again." She pleaded, grinding her hips harder on him.

"Oh my- did I accidentally turn you into a nymphomaniac?" She chuckled at his joke and although he groaned as if he was frustrated, he obliged to her wishes and sat up.

Clasping her waist with his hands, he lifted her up and guided her so she could easily sink herself down on his length. Not letting go, he slowly rolled his hips up, burying himself deep in her body once more. Since they were both still riled up from their previous session, it didn't take long for both of them to start spewing out a clutter of moans and grunts as they once again get lost in a mist of lust that clouded their minds. San drunk up every expression on Y/N's face. Every twitch of her facial muscles, every shuddering breath she exhaled, each time her eyelids shut close, he marveled at seeing her enjoy the experience. He loved seeing her indulge in such an intimate practice with him, more so given how special she was to him, one of the most important people in his life aside from his family. Looking down at her torso, his fingers brushed along the hem of her shirt.

"Please...." His urging caught her attention.

"Please let me see all of you. I want to admire every inch of you and your beautiful body. I promise I won't laugh or judge. I just want to worship you."

Y/N hesitated briefly, still afraid to let him see what was hidden under the shirt.

"It's ok if you don't want to. I won't force you." He shot a kind smile at her as he focused back on making sure to drive his cock up into her.

Feeling safe and knowing she could trust her lifelong friend whom she thought of as a soulmate at one point, Y/N reached for the bottom of her shirt and peeled it off her body. Coming face to face with her bare chest, San groaned in ecstasy as he slid his hands up her body.

"Just as I predicted, you have very cute breasts."

Pulling her chest to his face, he opened his mouth and took one of her nipples in it, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it. Y/N's fingers raked themselves through his hair, harshly tugging them when she felt his teeth sink themselves into her flesh.

"Aren't they too small?" She inquired.

Letting go of her breast with an audible pop, San cupped her chin.

"No baby, they're absolutely perfect. They're gorgeous, just like every other part of your body. You're gorgeous, absolutely stunning and holy fuck, you're driving me insane honestly." He confessed, his mouth diving into her other breast so it wouldn't feel left out from being tenderly kissed and sucked on.

His words sunk deep in Y/N's heart. He really did found her beautiful, attractive and it spurred something in her. Feeling a newfound passion, Y/N unconsciously began taking over their movements. Pushing against his thrusts, she began to set her own pace, rutting herself on top of his dick. San of course took notice and was happy about it.

"Oh wanna take over now baby? Well go ahead."

Laying back down on the floor, his eyes stared up at her with lust.

"Fuck yourself on me darling."

Encouraged by him, Y/N began bouncing herself on his cock. Finding an angle that she liked, she sunk down on his length over and over, her head thrown back as she used his body to push her down another spiral of immense pleasure. San just relaxed and admired the way she lost herself and gave into her deepest desires. He loved the way she rode his cock, and he loved feeling her walls tighten once more around his shaft.

"Oh shit- Sannie." She cried out his name as she quivered on top of him, her juices spilling out onto his cock once more.

Knowing fully well she was probably aching between her thighs, San gripped her hips and helped her ride out her climax so the feeling she was going through wouldn't go away just yet. He made sure to be gentle, easing her up and down his cock with absolute tenderness. Once he knew she was satisfied, he pulled her of him and set her down on the floor before sitting up above her body. Just like before, he took hold of his cock and began pumping his cum out of his body, plastering it all across her inner thighs and even splattering some on her stomach. Looking up, Y/N had the same giggly expression as before.

"Does my cum really make you burst into a fit of giggles?" He questioned her.

"I can't help it. It's just... I don't know. Maybe it's the fact it's so dirty and wrong, and then to have you spread it all over my body." She explained, which made San chuckle.

"Maybe I should baptize your thighs with my cum more often." Although he was joking, Y/N was more than willing to take him up on that offer.

"Will you?" She looked up at him with puppy eyes.

San studied her for a moment, before a wicked idea popped in his brain.

"How about you let me baptize and stain that pretty face of yours?"

Getting a hint of what he meant, Y/N got up on her knees while San stood up right in front of her, cock in hand as he brought it up to her lips.

"I hope you weren't planning on going to morning services tomorrow because I'm going to keep you up til morning until your knees hurt."

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4ragon · 3 years

Note

I'm not the original anonymous but I would extremely want to see that essay about Apollo's trust issues.

Also since I just finished Spirit of Justice, do you think Lamiroir ever told Trucy/Apollo about her and if so what would be their reactions?

Let’s see if I can write this up without crying again like I did on twitter.

So a while ago a friend of mine asked me why I liked Apollo, and I really couldn’t put my finger on it. I knew he was my favorite, but unlike Simon Blackquill, I hadn’t done that deep dive into figuring out why. I’d always just sort of loved him, and was never able to pinpoint the part that made me care about him so much. It drove me crazy, too, I love rambling about characters that I love, and I love writing from Apollo’s perspective more than anything. So why did I love him? Why did I care about him?

Well. I figured it out. I figured out my answer.

I think there are two things that characterize Apollo more than anything. One: He has trust issues. He genuinely believes that the people around him don’t give a shit about him. Especially after being betrayed multiple times in that first trial, he truly and deeply believes that the people around him are only trying to hurt him and is too scared to really believe that they care about him.

And two: He cares so much about the people around him that he constantly helps them anyway.

So like. And I won’t tag her because I don’t think she’d appreciate it, but I was watching the laquilasse AA4 stream last night, and the entire opening of Turnabout Corner is so striking to me, especially right after the end of Turnabout Trump. At the end of Turnabout Trump, Apollo’s trust and belief in Phoenix is finally and thoroughly shattered, and Apollo lashes out, punching Phoenix in the face. And for good reason! That was a huge breach of trust! Apollo literally did the exact thing that got Phoenix disbarred, namely present evidence that wasn’t real. Sure, they never exactly claimed it was the real deal, but Apollo didn’t even know it was faked, he just trusted Phoenix and this new piece of evidence and it almost fucked him over. It did sort of fuck him over, he did lose his job and his Mentor.

And then, Phoenix calls him and says that they’re in trouble, and Apollo doesn’t even question it, of course he shows up to help.

Like. You can feel how much he mistrusts Trucy on their first meeting, in everything he does and says. Especially when Trucy and Phoenix are in the same room, he’s actively thinking about how he doesn’t ‘buy their act’ when Phoenix is calling Trucy daughter-ly nicknames. And then, in a way, he’s kind of right? They guilt him into essentially being their errand boy, and I feel like they’re constantly and loudly using him throughout so much of the game.

And Apollo was there anyway. Apollo doesn’t even trust them and he’s still there the first instant Phoenix says he needs his help.

Like you can loudly do and say whatever you want and crush his dreams and betray his trust, and despite everything, there’s always that part of Apollo that desperately needs to help anyone who asks him. He can’t even bring himself to trust them, and he’s still crawling back the moment someone needs him, ready to let them disappoint him over again.

Like this struck me about Apollo from the moment I played AA4, but he’s so lonely? And desperate for connection? He cares so much about a world that has always and consistently never cared about him, and he just keeps caring and keeps caring even as that starry-eyed naivete is ripped away. And I feel like he just wants someone to care about him back, but never really able to believe that they do, because they never really seem to, because every time he allows himself to trust it’s just thrown back in his face so horribly.

Here’s an interesting thing I noticed: in Turnabout Trump, there’s a really interesting line. Phoenix has accused Kristoph of being the murderer, the extra person in the room. Kristoph takes the stand and claims to have witnessed the moment Phoenix committed the murder. And this exchange happens:

Apollo: There must have been someone else there at the moment of the crime!

Kristoph: Justice... I just said I saw no one. Not a soul.

Apollo: B-But, that goes against what Mr. Wright said!

Kristoph: Ah yes, this mysterious "fourth person"... ...who would conveniently be the "real killer", I suppose.

And this is well past the point where Phoenix has accused Kristoph of being that person. There’s no possibility at this point that they’re both innocent, it’s either one or the other. And Apollo is still so desperately trying to find a way for them both to be innocent, basically saying, “Just give me a fourth person and I’ll believe you.” And then Kristoph turned out to be a monster, and then Phoenix turned out to have betrayed Apollo from the start, and as far as Apollo is ever aware, none of the care from either of these men was ever real. He trusted, and he suffered the consequences.

But again. He’s still there. Someone pointed out a while ago, but Apollo stays. Apollo shows up to the Wright Talent Agency under false pretenses, and he complains and hems and haws, and he still stays. Why?

Phoenix and Trucy loudly manipulate him into working their case. They’re perfectly happy to flaunt that they’re basically tricking him. And he stays. Why?

Because Apollo can’t trust them, but he wants to so fucking bad. He doesn’t even seem to like Phoenix that much, but he wants that connection so fucking bad. He cares about them so much and he doesn’t believe for a second that they extend that feeling back at him, and he’s compelled to stay anyway.

He knows Trucy is practically using him, and he’s a sobbing mess when he thinks she was kidnapped for a few minutes. He’s cynical and mean and it’s all just to cover up the fact that he loves all these people around him with all his heart and they never once pay it back. And he comes back anyway. He’s like a fucking loyal dog that is never given enough affection and so he’s constantly trying harder and harder to earn that love while never believing he’ll ever really get it.

(Shit nope crying again)

It’s just so sad. And this is all without adding anything from the 3D games. The 3D games do build on this theme in one way or another, but from the get go, this is who Apollo is. A caring young man who is constantly punished for caring and yet can’t stop caring anyway.

We see it again in the 3D games. And I think part of why I don’t enjoy DD as much as SoJ is that DD doesn’t capture this mistrust the same way. It’s so surface level, that sense of betrayal and mistrust and anger he gets consumed by in that final case. And the worst part is it doesn’t have to be! There’s already that foundation! Apollo has been hurt already a million times. The only person he’s ever been able to trust, the only lifeline that’s kept him above water since he was a child, was Clay Terran, and now that was taken from him because he DARED to trust someone new. That’s so fucking compelling! But we never get that! We never get to see how Apollo is feeling. We get that he’s convinced Athena did the murder, but never really get into the Why, into the What This Means for Apollo.

It’s a bit better in SoJ. We see how far he’s come in terms of trusting people when he trusts in Trucy wholly and immediately in case two. And then, conversely, we see his mistrust and hurt when they introduce Dhurke into the mix. Apollo refuses point blank to believe that Dhurke had come to visit him, that Dhurke cared about him. Apollo demands to know why Dhurke was there, what Dhurke wanted, how Dhurke was going to use him. He’s been able to slowly start building that trust with people like Trucy, but he still cannot let himself trust again when Dhurke had already betrayed that trust.

I said it before, but as much as I hate the slapdash ways in which Capcom keeps throwing backstory at this boy, I love what the backstories are, because they build on this angry, cynical, lonely young man I care about so much. He’s been hurt and abandoned and used and betrayed since he was young, and being good never truly paid off for so long, but he kept doing it, he kept being good, he kept caring about people because he couldn’t help it, and kept hoping that maybe they could care back. And eventually I think it does start paying off for him. People do start caring about him. And I feel like it takes until around SoJ for him to start really believing that the people around him might care about him too.

Also congrats on finishing SoJ! Since there’s a very good chance that they might be announcing AA7 soon, I...hope? fear? expect? that they’ll touch on this then. However, I also worry that they’re going to botch it up so hard.

I know what I want to happen. I want Trucy to be angry. I want her to be angry at Lamiroir and Phoenix. She is constantly putting on a mask to try to make the people she loves happy, and I feel like this is a reasonable breaking point. After all, this is kind of the one thing that Phoenix hasn’t been honest with her about. She had a brother right there, and knew the whole time?! She had a mother there the whole time?! And no one bothered to tell her?! I think she’d be heartbroken, and I think she deserves to be angry. She’s been through so much, and they never give her time to really grieve or be upset.

I think Apollo would be ecstatic and angry at the same time. All he’s ever wanted was family, and now he does! He already loved Trucy, and thought Lamiroir was amazing, so I think he would be so happy to have that family back in his life. On the flip side, I do think he’d be angry at Phoenix, particularly for keeping it to himself before Lamiroir came into the picture, but I think if they talked it out, Apollo would come around to it and be able to forgive Phoenix.

#ace attorney #apollo justice #it's time to cry about apollo again god help me #spoilers #ace attorney spoilers #aa4-6spoilers #i love this boy so much I don't know if this does it justice #meta

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years

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Yeah, so I read your HP headcanons/analysis and I found it really well put. I was wondering about your thoughts on Dumbledore and who he really was as a person. (It’s okay if you don’t really want to reply :> )

We’re just getting all up into The Carnivorous Muffin headcanon land, aren’t we?

Well, this one’s probably obvious to anyone who reads my work.

I fall on the manipulative Dumbledore side of things and then some. Dumbledore is not only a bastard man but is a raging misogynist and extremely classist (which is funny because I don’t see too many people calling him out for those last two when to me canon all but shouts it at you).

Basically, what it comes down to, is even taken in very good faith I simply cannot read Dumbledore’s actions as benign in pretty much every single goddamn decision he makes ever.

God, where do I even start here? I guess we can go chronologically.

Well, there was Dumbledore’s Wizard Nazi youth with an oddly Dorian Gray flare to it with Gellert. I think it’s fairly obvious why Dumbledore’s not exactly... good there so I’m going to skip past it. Suffice to say, it took his sister’s death (and maybe murdering his own invalid sister) for Dumbledore to stop planning world domination. Even then it wasn’t so much that world domination was wrong, but because his sister died and he was an asshole.

I’m going to go ahead and include CoG and Fantastic Beasts because I can (CoG, while a terrible movie, actually does entertain me in many ways). Anyways, before the films came out I always considered the younger Dumbledore far more stoic and brooding. He doesn’t get his eccentric persona until after the defeat of Grindelwald and was before then angsty mcangsts and an academic at heart.

Well, per CoG, apparently he was a budding spy master long before defeating Gellert/Voldemort popped up. We see him manipulating Newt, sending him to Paris as his own agent, WHEN NEWT DOESN’T WANT TO GO AND HAS ACKNOWLEDGED THAT DUMBLEDORE USED HIM INTHE LAST FILM. Dumbledore writes off having used Newt for his own agenda with a charming smile but none the less it paints a pretty grim picture that Albus has always been... Albus. There has always been a greater good out there somewhere and the man is always using someone as a pawn.

Cut to canon and his treatment of Tom Riddle. Frankly, Dumbledore’s treatment of the young Tom Riddle, and even Tom Riddle just before he came Voldemort, is insane. The thought experiment I like to run is “replace Tom in those scenes with Harry Potter”.

Harry was a poor orphan, whose guardians would more than match what Mrs. Cole said about Tom Riddle, who had spurts of accidental magic now and then and enjoyed when his bully cousin was discomfitted. Now, imagine Dumbledore giving Harry his letter, and then pretending to light all of Harry’s possessions on fire to “teach him a lesson”. What the fuck?

Now, am I saying Tom Riddle wasn’t creepy here and that killing a rabbit was terrible. No. But I am saying Dumbledore had a horrible reaction to it and is proud of it years later. (Also, the fact that he uses this memory to convince Harry of how evil Tom is, is hilarious to me. Dumbledore, you were the shit that lit people’s wardrobes on fire. If I was Tom, I’d be upset too).

Dumbledore is always like this with Tom Riddle. He thinks the worst of Tom even in points where Tom hasn’t done anything. I’m not talking about later when, yes, Tom did live up to Dumbledore’s fears but when Dumbledore treats him like garbage and actively sabotaged Tom’s career.

Anyways, cut to later when the Marauders are in school. One of the big things is that Dumbledore puts up a guerilla resistance gang OF SCHOOL CHILDREN. While most members are older, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter are all only just out of Hogwarts. “Well,” you say, “It’s their choice and they did graduate. Surely Dumbledore wasn’t actually recruiting school children.” I point you towards canon, where Dumbledore convinces three actual school children that the fate of the nation rests on their shoulders and to go fight the good fight. So yes, Dumbledore canonically uses child soldiers and has no regret for doing so.

The other is letting James and Sirius off the hook for the Lupin incident. While Dumbledore talks the talk this showed that he was not willing to walk the walk. True, while getting them into major trouble would have involved outing Lupin (who was innocent in all of this) at the same time they were nearly responsible for the murder of another student. It’s very convenient that Dumbledore lets off the rich son of a lord, two individuals who later end up in the resistance movement (Potter likely funding part of it), and tells the impoverished half blood to sit down and shut up.

And in canon, yes, I believe that Dumbledore absolutely knew what Harry’s home condition was like. While the blood wards are an excuse they aren’t a particularly good one as for most of Harry’s childhood the Death Eaters were all accounted for. Harry was in no extreme danger from them. To not have had an inkling of Harry’s home life (when Harry even hints at it when wanting to stay over the summer, Harry runs away from home in third year, Fred and George see the bars on the window, and he even visits Harry’s home in sixth year) would be such laughable incompetence and stupidity it’s right out.

With that, I absolutely do believe what Snape showed us in the memory, the Dumbledore behind the scenes as it were. That Dumbledore knew fairly early that Harry Potter was a horcrux and began grooming Harry for suicide. Specifically, that’s what sixth year really is. All those memories of Tom Riddle, the pretext to get some memory from Slughorn, it’s an excuse for a smear campaign designed to convince Harry that Tom Riddle is inherently evil and must die at all costs, even Harry’s own life.

Dumbledore didn’t need that Slughorn memory. Sure, it was useful to know Tom intended to make seven but think about it. How did Dumbledore know there’d be anything remotely useful in there? He doesn’t know that Tom actually drops a number on Slughorn. Even then, he doesn’t know whether Tom actually goes and does it. All of it felt like, “Harry, I have a super secret important mission that only YOU can do. Can you handle it, Harry? Because without this the country is surely doomed” And in that I mean it was an effort to win back Harry’s favor after the previous year meltdown, keep him busy, and start in on the excuse to show Harry some pretty damn innocuous memories of Tom Riddle and go, “See, HE IS EVIL!”

Due to this, I frankly think that the train scene was a hallucination on Harry’s part. Wishful thinking for some gentle explanation of how Dumbledore had not cruelly used him for years and intended his death.

Well, that and it never made much sense that Dumbledore could predict Harry’s a) becoming the master of death b) miraculous second resurrection.

In the first case, Harry becomes master of death because of wand lore bullshit and happenstance where Harry happens to save Draco’s life. Dumbledore had no idea such a thing would happen. Dumbledore’s plan was for there to be no master of death, as the wand would default to having no owner when Snape defeated Dumbledore on Dumbledore’s orders. That Draco got the wand is a sort of Deus ex Machina. Sorry guys, Dumbledore intended Harry to die.

More, even then, while Dumbledore was very into the occult of these things we leave canon without any idea if these things are even responsible for his resurrection. They’re just relatively nifty objects with a legend behind them. There was nothing concrete to suggest that, should Harry happen to get all of them, he would be able to rise from the dead.

Otherwise onto the misogyny and classism parts.

In terms of misogyny this is from every time Dumbledore talks about Lily Evans or Merope Gaunt. In the case of Lily, she’s this weird Madonna figure whose love for Harry was so powerful it saved his life. That she also happened to make these blood wards Dumbledore cannot reproduce and extended her protection to Harry wherever he went is irrelevant. It’s her love that counts. That feminine, maternal, love purer than all others.

Basically, Dumbledore seems to be of the belief that women are flowers. The best of women are these demure, selfless, brave women who sacrifice themselves for their children. Yikes, Dumbledore.

Merope’s the really bad one though. Merope’s tale is how she drugged and raped a defenseless muggle for months and then he escaped. Dumbledore spins it into this Victorian tale of woe where Tom Riddle Sr. THE KIDNAPPED RAPE VICTIM is the asshole here who abandoned Merope to the merciless cold world. How dare he.

It’s very clear that Dumbledore doesn’t see Merope, or women in general, as people. Instead these weird Victorian ideals who can be tragic victims of circumstance.

As for the classism.

While Dumbledore’s very against the pureblood culture we see in the Malfoys a lot of his treatment of Tom Riddle feels very... classist. The big one, which is a little tangential but I say it counts, is Dumbledore’s theory that children of rape are incapable of love. Granted, he’s saying this while convincing Harry to kill himself for the good of the cause and there is a real world parallel in that alcohol/drugs while pregnant is a very bad idea that can lead to extreme mental and physical health disorders. That said, we’re talking love potions at conception, and it always read more as “rape babies” vs. specific drugs. And that is... just yikes on so many levels.

Now, do I agree with manipulative Dumbledore we see in many fics? No, because Dumbledore’s not that stupid.

He doesn’t need to borrow money from Harry’s vault, he doesn’t need to pay off Hermione and Ron to be Harry’s friends, he doesn’t need to choose Harry’s friends for him, he doesn’t need to manipulate Harry’s memories directly. He doesn’t need to do any of this because he got what he wanted just fine in canon.

Dumbledore is one of the smartest characters in canon, far smarter than Harry, and he doesn’t have to stoop to such outrageous schemes to get what he wants. Poorly concealed smear campaigns convincing Harry to commit suicide are more than enough.

#ask #anon #headcanons #albus dumbledore #manipulative dumbledore #dumbledore is pretty damn evil guys #as in there is pretty much not a single action you can point to where i'll say it was reasonable and not in some way underhanded #except maybe his choice in wardrobe #the man has some elton john style

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cherripeach · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is "I have the power of god and anime on my side, don't mess with me," and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it.Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Prologue 1-2: Is this a kidnapping?

Chapter Summary: Waking up in a coffin is a great way to spend your day! Don't even ask about the sus masked man and creepy cat.

Words: 3.5k

Relationships: Developing as of now, but future twisted character/reader

Warning: Curse words, jokes about death because lack of fear of danger, joke about Crowley being mentally insane, low-key sex jokes, self deprecating humor, (If I missed anything, please tell me)

Covered in darkness, you were stuck in a small, somewhat squared space. It seemed like today was not your day, but you did get a lot of sleep, you assume. You reached out to every side to make sure that there was no opening or latch that you just could not see. While you were reaching around for something, all the sudden you heard an old creaky door open. Apparently, you were supposedly in a bigger room if this large box containing you could fit in it.

“Was I... kidnapped…?” You could have never guessed this would happen, and you always thought they would be too annoyed with you to actually keep you, “but I’m not a kid.”

It seemed that really nothing would ever go your way because immediately after you affirm your belief that you would not be someone good to kidnap a much greater voice entered the room, and so you stopped your mind to process the words being said, “...lid is too heavy.. Time for my secret move!”

Confusion seemed to radiate off of you at that line, at least, until there was a sharp thud to whatever you were in. But after the thud was a second of calm; nothing happened, no footsteps were heard, and no one spoke. Yet suddenly instead of a loud thud there was slowly heat entering the area you were in. The heat began to engulf the box around you, and soon you could see the bright blue flames eating everything up. In your desperation and in your brain’s rush of survival skills, your mind freaked and decided to take control of your body to both scream and kick the front of this box. The door or whatever of the box spasmed when your kick hit it and your body threw itself up from the heat located in the now black box that looked really much like a coffin. Your observations on where you were ended quickly when you saw a little being running to you. The creature looked like a weird cat mix between a fox or something, but the fact that it was running on its back legs really threw you off. The creature stared at you after you stopped your evaluation of this strange being, and he panicked much like your previous actions.

“wHY aRe yOu up?” the creature could never seem to stop mumbling to themself you learned, and you only heard his last phrase before you could process the rest.

“Wow, the CGI on you is amazing!” This place seemed to be like a living breathing set from your assumption because no kidnapping could ever be as odd and elegant as this place. You always assumed that whenever someone gets kidnapped they would wake up in an abandoned warehouse tied to a wooden chair and men with weapons would come in and interrogate the kid. Waking up in a coffin is not how a kidnapping should happen. Anyway, the cat just seemed as stunned as you and stopped his motions.

“CGAI?? What are you talking about? I am the Great Grim,” the cat bounced back awfully quick after your so-called rude statement to him, “Now give me your clothes, human! Otherwise,... I’ll roast ya.” This “Great Grim” seemed to have quite the ego to think that you would strip for him. He even puffed out his chest throughout his speech and put his paws on his hips.

“Ah ah, no way am I stripping without you giving me money.” You would not be stopped or told to do anything by a little creature that in your eyes could not hurt you.

However, the creature could not swallow your lack of obedience or the words that came out of your mouth, so he in all honesty started to attack you with this “CGI blue fire” again. He acted a lot more like an arrogant child than an arrogant child would act. He even screams something about him being “The Great Grim” again before he gets closer to you. Once he got close to your personal bubble, you decided to see if the fire really was the claimed hottest fire in the world because of its color. You reached out and basically grabbed the fire with an open hand and left it there letting your mind pend what was going on around you, and immediately your brain and its nerves picked up on the pain in your hand. Not believing your nerves, you kept your hand there for another second and pulled it away to look at it, only to notice that the skin on some of your hand was distinguishably different from the rest of your hand. Your mind paused, and you snorted at yourself while you observed your hand and slowly turned around and sprinted from the creature that was gaining on you while you stood there gazing at your hand.

This set or whatever had very real effects as seen by the cat that was continuing to chase you and scream for you to give him your uniform or something and by the bright blue flame. It didn’t just look cool but it also hurt and in your book that’s amazing! The world of CGI and effects really have changed, and wherever and whenever you are, they are way ahead of their time.

Your running from the cat never seemed to stop and you passed tons of weird areas. There was a little classroom, a weird well, and some odd architecture but overall this set was ‘set to perfection.’

You decided to go into the next room you saw to see if this set continued or had any more different scenes, and so you went into this library with tons of floating books. When entering, you noticed that the cat creature was still behind you, but you paid it no mind, not willing to listen to the being and continuing to explore this library.

“You really thought you could get away from my nose? Dumb human! Hand over your clothes if you don’t wanna-” The creature really seemed set on your clothing, but another great sound cut him off as he screamed a large “owww” and later only to respond to the previous sound with a “What’s this cord?”

You turned from the books you were observing and saw a tall man with a top hat and a bird mask like a masquerade party. His cloak and whole ensemble appeared to be out of a fairy tale; he looked like a misunderstood villain whose whole family and lover had died in the past and so he turned to evil in order to help himself deal with the pain. He did look somewhat like an asshole though. Not the point though, let’s get on task.

“This is no mere cord. It is a lash of love.” Briefly in your head you thought that this man deserved to be called clinically insane, but at this point that’s just being rude to those who are. The man after he caught the cat by wrapping the cord around the creature turned to you. “Found you at last. Are you one of the new students?”

And in your haze instead of being confused you nodded, so he continued his speech.

“You should not do things like that. Leaving the Gate on your own!” his manner of speaking was almost too flamboyant for you, but right now all you can do is stick with him and get out of this place, “Not only that, you have yet to tame your familiar which has broken a number of school rules.”

Just as confused as seeing the talking cat, you decided to nod your head and shepley mumble an apology so this man would get off your ass about the talking CGI cat and you apparently. And as quickly as you thought you figured out the situation and what he was trying to lecture you on, the man continued his speech after the cat screamed out that he “wasn’t your familiar!” or something and another.

“Sure, sure The rebellious ones always say things like that. Now quiet down for a moment.” You just watched on as the man slammed his hand over the cat’s mouth and continued on talking, “My goodness. It’s unprecedented for a new student to leave the Gate on their own...how impatient can you be?” His eyes locked on yours to make sure you were paying attention, so you just nodded your head again to show that you were listening when you weren’t.

His speech seemed to be going for a century so you got bored and noticed that after a while he closed his eyes and was not paying attention to you while still having animated hand movements. You, then, began to observe the shelves around you again to see if there was anything odd, and there was, many of the books seemed to be in this weird language that you have never seen. The language looked like something you would find in a horror movie where the people would be so curious to actually touch the book and not throw it away like they should have, so you decided that as much as this place was odd and mysterious you did not want to be that kind of idiot. However, in your inner dialogue of stupid characters in horror movies, the theatrical man turned around with his cap flying behind him and sauntered on out of the room. You realized he probably said something important, but the worst case scenario is he was the one that kidnapped you and would kill you later. No big deal. The main problem right now is that the man was walking too fast for your tastes and has already disappeared from your vision, so you ran to catch up with him.

Finally, you met his step in a hallway, and you decided to ask just what this all was. “Wait, wait, wait sir. First, what’s this Gate or whatever?” You did fake quotes around the word gate by putting up peace signs and bending your fingers, and then you looked at the man with your arms situated over your chest and puffed your chest out to show you meant to be answered when you resumed with “And who are you, man?”

The man, though, was not at all bothered at your vibe and started a new explanation, “It’s the room you woke up in with all the doors...” Then, he went on about this “academy” or something, and you were getting the vibe that this man and this set had to be some kind of prank, “Let’s get a move on!”

You really seemed to be missing the important parts of the conversation or lecture of whatever this so-called teacher is doing if this even is a school, but at this point and time you just want to go back to bed.

He began to stare at your dazed and puzzled form and said, “For I am gracious I will explain everything to you!” This man is like teachers in the fact that if you nod your head and look like you are paying attention, anything is possible. At the end of his speech, you caught the word “ceremony” before he sped off for you to only follow behind him. You went through several more hallways to get to where you think you woke up around. No one remembers what happened once they woke up; it is all just blurred reality.

The man in all of his glory decides that once you arrive at this large door to fling the door open and teacher-yell “Not at all!”

Out of the flurry of voices you were greeted by once the door was opened one person in the cloak just like you calmly states a little disappointedly “Ah, he’s here.”

You decided that with the added amount of people you should probably pay more attention so you can get home quicker and figure this prank out.

“I cannot believe you all…” You really are getting better at tuning the man out because after his short speech this time he turned to you as motioned for you to move in the direction of another object that would come out of a horror movie. You having no context for this mirror or what you were going to do started walking for the mirror while making out the mirror and area around it. Actually, there was a familiar face in the mirror, something you think you have seen from a Disney movie. It was the magic mirror mask (?) from the Snow White movie. It did look a little different with some mask markings by the face’s eyes and the mirror had some more intricate details, but other than that the mirrors looked almost identical.

After your moment of remembrance of the past, you stopped from your walk and put your hand on your chin and just paused to process it all, causing the entire room to stop from their constant talking that you didn’t notice and stare. In a brilliant moment of association, you turned around to the man and the cat that was still in his arms and tried to get out all of what your brain has concluded from the situation, “So like can we just stop this… like I know you were probably hired to prank me or something, but this situation is giving me hardcore cult vibes. Are you gonna like sacrifice me to Satan or something? Please do tell.” The time of the room stopped waiting for a single response to your question. Before there were murmurs here or there as the people were watching you, but now silence pierced the air.

You watched the man’s face after you said your opinion, and while it was covered by a mask, it was clearly obvious from his open mouth and sagged shoulders that he was shocked about the situation. After a moment, he adjusted his tie and dusted his shoulder off in an effort to steel himself, but you were having none of his b.s, and prattled on again.

“Like, I’ll tell you, you lecturing me about this school and that cat is not what I was planning to do today. I would like to get back to my bed and sleep.” You even told him the name of your town, but this just made him more lost than before.

He repeated your town and asked, “Are you even from Twisted Wonderland?”

“Twisted what,” now both of you were lost and gawking at each other.

“Were you not listening to me?”

“Honesty, I thought this was a prank from the second you walked in, and I still kinda do, so I blanked everything out.” You scratched your cheek and made sure you lost your previous eye contact with him. The lack of of chatter from the crowd made your interaction more awkward than even you could make one.

He placed his free hand on his forehead looking almost as disappointed as the first voice you heard besides him and looked down to the floor.

“Right now we are in Night Raven College in Twisted Wonderland where we are at the end of the entrance ceremony. You should be here to become a student at this school as a magician. However, even if you are not from here, the mirror did send for you, so please,” he paused and weakly threw his hand back in the direction of the mirror, “Step in front of the mirror.”

While you knew you could not trust the man, the only thing to do in this situation is turn and step in front of the familiar mirror. The mirror then grasped the attention of all those in the room as asked you to “State thy name,” and you told the mirror your name.

“The shape of thy soul is…” Consequently, the mirror began to join in the confusion of you and the man behind you, “I don’t know.”

You turned around and threw both your hands up in a “don’t look at me” sign only for the man to gaze right in the mirror past you. “Come again?”

The mirror still pulling a puzzled face when it was only a mask tried to state what it knew, “I sense not a spark of magic from this one… the color, the shape, all are nothing. Therefore, they are suited for no dormitory.”

While the people around you began their whispers, and the man behind you gasped in a weird over exaggerated way, you decided to state your mind. “So, like I knew that, but pissy. I’ve always wanted magic and stuff.”

The masked man did not comment on what you said; you think that he probably has had enough of everything. “An Ebony Carriage would absolutely never go to meet someone who can’t use magic. In a hundred years, there has not been one mistake in student selection. So why in the world…”

You cut in with “I’m a total mistake, sir, that’s why,” but the CGI ‘Great Grim’ jumped out of the man’s hold and further cut you off: “Then, I’ll take their place!” All of this is getting too weird too fast so you just casually walked out of the limelight next to someone who was in a group of five, you think, not counting the floating tablet (??). The cat appeared mad before but being in that man’s hold just made him worse.

“Stay right there! Raccoon!” The masked, clearly sus man bolted out after the cat and chased him around at least for a few feet.

“Unlike that dumb human, I can use magic! Let me in the school instead! If you need proof, I’ll show you right now!” The cat was running around the room trying to avoid as many things as possible. You thought that he looked like a crewmate in the waiting ship for Among Us.

The peace did not last longer before the same disappointed voice from when you walked in the room became cross while screaming “Everyone, get down!”

The cat, then, spit out fire in every direction. Neither you nor the person next to you ducked, but you noticed some fire make its way to you and tried to get them out of the way before anything happened. Just as you were about to reach them, they caught on fire. Oops.

“Waaaaah! Hot! My butt’s on fire!” the male, you assumed, yelled right in your ear vibrating your eardrum and causing you to take a step back before fixing the problem. You spotted the man from before screaming to the other people in the room, and then, pointing at the cat.

Two of the taller people next to you began a conversation which you tried to listen in on:

“Good at hunting?... nice, plump snack?” You don’t think you wanted to hear this conversation.

“...Do it yourself.”

You focused your mind back to the boy who was still screaming in your ear until more voices piped up in response to the man.

“Mr. Crowley, please leave it to me.” another boy in the group of five said with this really profound voice. You could just tell he was a bottom or something. You are also assuming that “Mr. Crowley” is the masked sus man.

“That’s Azul for you. Always trying to earn himself points.” Let’s just ignore the talking, floating tablet and everything that should be questioned and focus on the fact that the bottom’s name is Azul.

The boy next to you with his butt still on fire did not find this conversation as interesting as you which in retrospect is obvious because of the fire on his butt. “Um, hey, could someone put out the fire on my butt already?”

“O gosh, I’m so sorry. I got really distracted by everything,” You aimed all your concentration that you had at the boy. You slapped the area that was on fire several times to get the fire out, and after a few slaps, the fire slowly extinguished on the boy. The fire was not as bad as it looked.

The boy turned around to face you and beamed at you as you believe the personification of the Sun would look like. “Thank you!!” His bright red eyes gazed right through your soul through your eyes, sparkling every couple of seconds. You patted the golden retriever’s hood as he just continued to beam through you. He even grabbed your hands and shook them rapidly several times to show his thanks to you and squeezed them to finally drop his grip.

You ignored the conversation that was happening between several others of the group of five in favor of staring at the young sun. A couple seconds after two of the clocked people began to run after the cat. That was your clue to start to pay more attention to the situation at hand than the sun.

~~~

So this was supposed to be a lot sooner but then exams hit and that's always fun. This chapter just had to have my mind commenting on everything, so half of the chapter we don't even know what happens, but it's really only gonna be for this chapter. Thank you for reading this, and I apologize for any mistakes, but I hope you enjoy it! Have a great day or night!

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pandoraborn · 3 years

Text

Cruelty of the Beast - Part 6

( previous. )

Characters: c!Tommy, c!Wilbur Word count: 1896 words Content: wilbur soot & tommyinnit are siblings, reference to abuse, reference to torture, reference to death, healing, wilbur makes amends,

------------

Wilbur’s walking too fast for Tommy to keep up, he has to actually jog just to remain a step or two behind the man. It’s not hard to figure out where they’re going; they’re easily headed for some beach.

Tommy doesn’t want to be here. He wants to at least stay in the cabin if he’s to stay put anywhere, but Wilbur had given him a shovel and an axe and told Tommy to follow. There’s never much of a choice with an order like that.

Wilbur also hasn’t spoken to Tommy in close to an hour now. The trek is long, but it’s also a torture all on its own. Tommy doesn’t do well with silence, fearing that Wilbur is silently judging him or sizing him up. He feels very much like he’s marching toward his own demise.

He very well may be.

Keeping his gaze down, Tommy tightens his grip on the handle of the shovel, trying to keep focused on staying right behind Wilbur, ignoring how much his legs are hurting.They’re passing by abandoned portals, portals they could easily light. The idea that there would be paths waiting for them on the other side is a far-fetched idea though; they’re too far out from any sort of civilization.

After what feels like forever, Wilbur finally stops. Tommy stops next to him, peering out at the water. It’d be so easy to craft a boat and sail out toward escape, but that would just be more isolation and loneliness. The potential escape isn’t worth that.

“Grab as much sand as you can carry in your inventory,” Wilbur explains. “We’re going to have to make another trip, possibly to a desert, but this is good enough.” He offers Tommy a smile. It’s reminiscent of the old Wilbur, the one that ran L’Manburg with all the pride and charisma he used to possess. There are shades of it again, but not enough to induce an illusion that this is good. Nothing about this situation is good. Ranboo and Dream had also disappeared some time ago, and there’s no telling when they’ll be back.

“What are we grabbing sand for?” Tommy asks to fill the silence. He’s already at work, grabbing sand and filing it away into his backpack. It’s messy and coarse, already getting into his shoes. “This already sucks.”

"Explosives,” comes the casual reply. Too casual for Tommy’s liking. He’d already had an idea, but the fact that Wilbur wants them both to fill their inventories, and then make a second trip scares Tommy. Narrowing his eyes, he pauses in his digging to lean against the shovel.

“Why are you doing this Wilbur? Why do you and Dream want to hurt everyone so bad? Why am I even here?”

“Instead of me answering those questions, can I ask you a few questions instead?” Wilbur too pauses, pressing his hands together as he studies Tommy with a pensive expression. “Please, be as honest with me as possible, alright?”

“No promises.” A nod signals for Wilbur to go ahead, however.

“Are you happy with your life right now?”

It’s a very pointed question that has Tommy flinching back. Instinct would have him deflecting or changing the subject entirely, but Wilbur looks like he’s waiting patiently for an answer. This isn’t the revived Wilbur, this is the one that had been Tommy’s closest friend for the longest time... brothers, even.

Part of him is tempted to lie, but that would be pointless. They’d talked endlessly in the void, with Tommy bitching every moment he could about how unfair his life had become. Wilbur knows him far too well.

“No,” Tommy finally mutters, turning away. “I’m not happy, but you knew that.”

“Is there anyone, any single person you trust and want to go back to?”

Tommy thinks of Tubbo, then of Puffy. He and Tubbo are still too awkward around each other, not having had a proper conversation since the final showdown with Dream. Sure they’d spoken a few times, but nothing deeper than arguments over where to live.

Puffy had made some promises, but he doesn’t know her from Sam, and Sam had broken his promise completely. With his shoulders slumping, Tommy shakes his head. Everything about this conversation is fucked up, and they both know it.

“Are you afraid of me?” Wilbur’s not ending his line of questioning anytime soon. This is the one question Tommy doesn’t really want to answer.

“Yes.”

“I see.” Wilbur falls silent as he turns away, going back to the task of gathering sand into his own backpack. The silence stretches between them, and Tommy feels it like a cold sweat on his back. It’s just as piercing as Wilbur’s questions, just as numbing as the afterlife. Silent, too, if the ringing in his ears is anything to go by. Even the lapping of the waves isn’t enough to snap him back to reality.

“Do you remember when we were younger?” Wilbur finally asks. The silence doesn’t snap Tommy back, but Wilbur’s voice does. Always a source of calm, always there to keep him grounded. It’s aggravating, this effect Wilbur has over him. Annoying and comforting at the same time.

“I don’t remember much anymore, Wilbur,” Tommy responds. “I remember wars and death and everything I worked for going up in smoke.”

“You don’t remember you and me?” Wilbur’s facing him again, wearing that ugly serene smile on his face. “You don’t remember how I used to read to you?”

“Vaguely.” It’s a dismissive answer, because Tommy wants to squash anything friendly out of his mind. The less he associates with Wilbur, the sooner they can end this game and he can go back home to his dirt house. “That was a long time ago, Wil.”

“It was our favorite activity.” Wilbur actually sounds sad. Tommy can’t tell if it’s acting or genuine, but he’s being drawn in anyway. Part of him wants to throw his arms around Wilbur and comfort him. A strong, loud part of him is already moving closer.

“I remember our favorite book was ‘The Hobbit’,” Wilbur continues. “I also read the Lord of the Rings trilogy to you a couple of times. You were so cute, hanging on every word. Simple times, Tommy. The best times.”

“I don’t have any best times,” Tommy snaps. “Like I said, I remember lots of wars. Lots of fighting and people dying. You died. I died, and now you kidnapped me. Why are you trying to butter me up? Wilbur this is so fucked.”

“I know. I messed up Toms. I messed up so many times, especially with you. Even now, I know what I did was cruel and stupid. I promise, if you give me one more chance, I’ll make it all up to you. No more pain, no more agony. You’ll have a support system-”

“Do I have to remind you of Dream?” Tommy snarls. His voice cracks as he speaks. “He’s the one who fucking killed me, remember? He had me exiled, he tortured me. And you come in like you know exactly what all took place!”

“Tommy I was dead. Had I been able to stop him, I would have. You know I would never condone anyone hurting you. I don’t like that you’ve been hurt the way you have been. I hate it more than anyone, trust me!”

“You still died and left me alone. If you weren’t so selfish, neither of us would be in this position! My life went to shit ever since you died, you don’t get to stand there and tell me you hate it.”

“I wasn’t good for the server. I wasn’t good for you. I thought that if I was gone, things for you would improve. I thought you would’ve won, that Dream wouldn’t have hurt you, or that your friendships would be strained.”

“Stop, stop!” This is embarrassing. Tommy’s crying, standing there in front of Wilbur and sounding like a petulant child. “Stop talking! Stop making me relive everything, okay? You weren’t there, you don’t get to act like you know what happened. It was shit. Everything was shit, everything is still fucking garbage, and now I’m stuck living with the one person who hurt me, thanks to you.”

“Toms. My Tommy...” Wilbur has tears of his own in his eyes. With his shovel falling into the sand, he gathers Tommy in his arms. Tommy doesn’t resist, because everything about this hug means something. It’s an actual, loving hug, and not a ploy at manipulation. He can feel it in the way Wilbur is holding him, rocking bath and forth with tiny hiccups. “Tommy I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry you were hurt and cast aside by everyone. I’m here now, alright? It’ll be me and you, just like it’s always been.”

Tommy sniffles as he leans into Wilbur. He’s not returning the embrace, but Wilbur feels so warm. It’s been so long since anyone had hugged him like this, or just loved him. He wants to savor this feeling.

“All your long years we’ve been friends,” Wilbur whispers. “Trust me as you once did.”

“You want me to let it all go?” Tommy finally wraps his arms around Wilbur. “I don’t even know what to let go of.”

“All the pain, Tommy. “All the pain, trauma, abuse. All your attachments. Even the memories. With us, you won’t hurt anymore. Dream won’t touch you, and Ranboo is your friend. I’ll be your brother, okay?”

“...let it all go...” Tommy relaxes more into Wilbur’s embrace. Slowly, his arms come up to rest against Wilbur’s back. “Let everything I had go, right?”

“I’m here again. I won’t leave you. I promise you Toms. Tommyinnit, gremlin child. Vice President, and my best friend, brother...”

“Don’t overdo it now,” Tommy jokes under his breath. It earns a chuckle from both of them. The laughter helps him feel normal, like maybe everything really will be okay. This doesn’t feel like an indoctrination, really. Wilbur isn’t evil. Maybe he’s got some misguided beliefs, but Tommy missed him. There’s no one that can fill the void in his heart like Wilbur can.

“Point is, it’s you and me against the world,” Wilbur continues. “We won’t count the other two yet, so we’ll stick with just us, alright? When all this is over, I’ll read to you again. Any book of your choosing.”

“Will you read me The Hobbit again?“ Tommy pulls back enough to blink slowly at Wilbur. His vision is still wet with tears, but he’s cheering up. “And maybe we can watch the movies together?”

“Absolutely. Anything for you, alright?”

“Then I trust you.”

“And?”

“And...I’ll stay by your side.” Tommy nods.

There are matching sighs from the pair, with them looking awkwardly at each other for a moment. Then, with a blush, Tommy picks up his shovel again and preparing to dig up more sand.

“I still don’t get why we have to do this,” Tommy grumbles.”

“Tell you what, after we get back to the cabin, I’ll let you blow up the surrounding area. You’ve earned yourself a few explosions to vent your anger.”

His excitement is barely contained, with him moving faster and shoveling even more dirt. Okay, the situation as a whole might still be fucked, but Tommy can’t resist playing with fire. As a treat.

#long post #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #c!tommy #c!wilbur #cruelty of the beast #cruelty of the beast part 6 #mention of trauma #mention of abuse #mention of torture #mention of death #healing #wilbur and tommy are brothers #wilbur makes amends #tommy misses wilbur #miishae writes

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

A Chronicle of Loss

Summary: 5 people Spencer Reid lost and 1 person he gained. A look at the traumas Spencer faces over the series, and giving him the happy ending he deserves.

Tags: grief, loss, abandonment issues, insecurity, depression, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, getting together, ‘didn’t know they were dating’, protective derek, autistic spencer

TW: self-harm, drug addiction, grief

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

The Inescapable Unravelling (<)

1. William

Spencer’s only ten years old when he watches his father pack his bags in his parents’ bedroom, watches as he smiles sadly at the sorry sight of him and his mother begging him not to leave, only to ignore their pleas and walk out the door. He remembers the anxiety written on his mother’s face, the shame in her eyes at being left in such a cruel way, the uncertainty as to whether they’d cope without William like it’s branded onto his skin, an egregious mark he can’t ignore.

Just like that, he became the man of the house. He became the voice of reason, the sensible one, the person dealing with Diana’s episodes, all while balancing his school work in a desperate attempt to live a different life to the one he existed in as a child.

He knows it wasn’t solely Diana, or Riley Jenkins, or any average marital issue that caused him to leave, he knows it was partly that William simply didn’t know how to handle an autistic child prodigy. He had a genius son who struggled with communication, had no friends, and refused to engage in any of the bonding activities he came up with. In the end, Spencer being different only compounded his desire to leave and, eventually, he stopped suppressing it and gave in.

He’d never blame his mother, but her confusion in her episodes often sent him flying down half a flight of steps or clutching a stinging cheek or banging his head on a door frame. She called him clumsy and he didn’t correct her. She called him ‘crash’ and he accepted the nickname. Without William there, he was completely and utterly alone, left to deal with the grief of losing a father and a schizophrenic mother who struggled to look after herself, let alone him.

He still thinks about it all these years later. He thinks about what his father said to Diana when he left: “you refuse to take care of yourself.” He reflects on the fact that he was well aware Diana wouldn’t be able to take care of him, that he would be left to fend for himself, that a 10 year old can’t provide adequate mental health support no matter how hard he tries, and he still left. He thinks about what that meant, how little his father actually cared for him.

He still thinks about it, and he still cries. His first encounter with grief, and he was only 10 years old.

2. Innocence

Spencer had joined the BAU at 22: three PhDs under his belt and a lifetime of expectation on his shoulders, but somehow he’d managed to remain the most innocent member of the team throughout the first few years of his job. Until Tobias Hankel had taken it and completely obliterated any shreds of naivete he had left.

Of course, he knew evil. He’d even experienced it first-hand, he’d been viciously bullied growing up and he’d encountered his fair share of violent, deranged serial killers, but Tobias -- or, more accurately, Charles and Raphael -- introduced him to evil on a completely new scale. The pain and fear that had tormented him in that cabin lived in a secluded, festering part of his psyche, reproducing at a terrifying rate in his memory, never resting, never quieting, unless dilaudid was streaming through his veins.

His innocence was gone; there was only darkness, loneliness, corruption, and he was grieving for something he’d never get back. His life was now separated into two distinctly different eras, marked only by his kidnapping, by the cruel torture he’d been subjected to.

Along with his innocence, he’d lost his relationships, he’d lost the family he’d found and loved so dearly. Nobody tried to help him escape the clutches of his PTSD or addiction, he felt like he was drowning right in front of his friends while they talked and laughed among themselves, muffling his desperate cries for help, and the frustration and abandonment joined the pain and fear in their festering corner of his mind.

He eventually gets clean, he eventually recovers. But he’s never the same. He’s forever tainted by the actions of one man -- a man he struggled to blame -- and he can’t help but mourn the life he had before Tobias, the optimistic, brightly coloured world-view he used to hold before it was ripped up, stamped on, and burned to ashes right before his eyes.

3. Gideon

Gideon leaves. Gideon leaves and the blow is almost as crushing as it was when he was ten. His mentor, his father figure, his friend abandons him with no warning, no goodbye. It hurts that he didn’t think Spencer worthy of anything more than a useless fucking letter that he left for him in a cabin because he knew that Spencer loved him enough to drive out there and find it; he knew that Gideon was much more special to Spencer than he ever was to him.

This pain feels almost worse because he’s surrounded by people feeling the same way, if to a less extreme extent. He finds himself comparing himself to Hotch, Derek, the whole team: it makes him feel as though he’s overreacting when even Penelope, arguably the most emotive member of the BAU, seems back on her feet within a few days and Spencer still feels as though he’s been hollowed out and all his insides replaced with the smouldering ashes of grief filling him up, weighing heavy in his stomach, climbing up his throat and choking him.

He drags his feet, he doesn’t sleep, he drinks coffee, he runs on auto-pilot. Others notice, of course they do, but there’s nothing any of them can say to make it better, not even Hotch when he’s pulled into his office and sternly told that he needs to open up. Spencer just looks at him with empty, exhausted eyes and shrugs. Weeks ago, he would’ve cried but there aren’t anymore tears to cry, he’s reached a truce with himself. He isn’t happy but he isn’t crushingly depressed anymore: he feels nothing, an abyss of grey matter circling around inside him as he struggles to perform basic functions.

“It’ll get better, kid,” Derek says seriously one day when he sits down at his desk, dullness settled deep in his eyes and numbness deep in his veins. It doesn’t feel like it.

Rossi joins the team and he’s nothing but cold towards Spencer and the rejection only adds insult to injury, and nobody seems to care. His stomach hurts all the time and he’s losing weight again, he knows, but he can’t seem to put any effort into anything at all, least of all trying to be happy, trying to look after himself.

He’s lost his protector and he’s replaced by another person who sees him as an intentional but irritating robot to be used and discarded, not thought of again until another geographical profile is required, or an obscure fact would help the investigation. The agony of existence for almost a year after Gideon’s disappearance feels almost too much to bear, even if Rossi does warm up to him, even if he does eventually begin to heal and forgive. It’s the first time grief almost kills him, and he isn’t even mourning the dead.

4. Emily

Emily’s death tears him apart. For the first time since the year after Hankel, he considers many things. He buys dilaudid and fiddles with the bottle every evening, torn between the sweet relief he knows would be guaranteed the second it’s flooding his bloodstream and the torment of knowing it was Emily who helped him get clean the first time, how disappointed she’d be if she knew he was throwing away all those hours she put in, disregarding the belief she had in him.

He holds a razor over the top of his thighs and slashes as deep as he can bear, daydreams about burying the blade deep enough to slice open his femoral artery and give up, embrace the darkness that’s been living inside him for years anyway. But he can’t stand the grief it would bring JJ, losing another sibling to suicide, even if he isn’t blood related. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone but himself, but it’s so cripplingly tempting and the frustration at not being able to give in to any of his darker fantasies has him tearing his heart out.

Instead he cries, sobs, weeps, over the death of his best friend, shouts in anger at the unfairness of Emily’s life being taken by a dirty criminal while he gets to live as she’s six feet under, dark and cold in the ground. Images of her beautiful face he loved so much rotting away, turning into something grotesque and mangled roam around in his brain and he berates himself relentlessly for not appreciating her wide grin and teasing eyes more, hates himself for not appreciating every single moment with her that he could.

And when she miraculously rises from the dead, he can’t even appreciate it because he feels as though he’s lost another friend. JJ, the one person he tried every day to live for, pictured in his mind every time he considered ending everything, had deceived him, had held him while he cried, held a cool washcloth to his forehead after he threw up from the force of his crying and the extremity of his grief, had watched him writhe in agony, all while having the power to stop it and doing nothing.

The betrayal dizzies him: he doesn’t know who he can trust and the shock of Emily’s return leaves him reeling. He’s cold to the people he loves, and he can’t rejoice in Emily’s return, can’t sit down with her and chat like they used to, or hug her again, or joke with her, or prank Derek together. Again, he’s drowning and this time everyone’s focus is on him but he’s refusing their hands reaching out to help, stubbornly accepting his fate, too scared to take an outstretched arm in case it lets him go again. Surely the cold darkness of the cruel waters is kinder than another rejection or deception?

Finally, finally, he decides to trust one hand and he’s pulled above the waters again, not quite out of the ocean but at least he can breathe. Eventually, he finds the strength to walk to shore and he’s wrapped up in Emily’s strong arms, burying his face in her hair and swearing he’ll never let go again.

5. Alex

He never, not for a moment, blames Alex for her decision to let go. If anything he admires her for it, he’s proud she made the right decision for her and her family, and at least he saw this one coming. He’s lost enough people by this point that the loss doesn’t ache and burn and fester in the way it used to, and they stay in contact; they have a bi-weekly FaceTime call and she texts him memes that he doesn’t understand and book recommendations regularly.

But that’s not to say that losing his maternal figure on the team, the woman who he’d connected with the fastest out of any BAU member, who had understood him in a way no-one else could, who loved and cared for him like a son, doesn’t stab him in the gut.

He’d take a bullet for absolutely everyone on the team, but he hadn’t taken a bullet for Alex out of some misguided loyalty to a coworker or because she was a member of the BAU, he’d taken a bullet for her because she was the best person he knew, and - plain and simple - some inner, more primal instinct within him wanted to save her life. And she’d stayed with him at the hospital, a little due to her guilt, a little due to her seeing Ethan in him, but mostly because she loved him.

And he loved her. So seeing her walk down those stairs and knowing she wouldn’t walk into the bullpen the next morning - no matter how much he knew that this was the right thing for her to do - left him feeling hollow again, a little broken, a lot sore. He missed her deeply, both because she was an amazing asset to the team, but also because she’s a beautiful person who brought sunshine to his gloomy world. She had an indescribable talent for making him happy, and he felt her absence in his every-day life bitterly.

Although she’s still around, she still finds ways to brighten his day, still has some creepy telepathic ability to know when he’s down and exactly how to make him feel better, it’s another loss to add to the many he’s somehow managed to have collected over the years. And he can’t seem to tell the grief in his heart any different.

At least this time it can be temporarily alleviated by a text message. It’s more than he could have asked for, really.

The Gradual Intertwining (>)

+1 Derek

He falls in love with Derek like the kind of slow and steady drizzle that’s almost indistinguishable from heavy mist; so easily confused for the ordinary, familiar platonic feelings he’s harboured for years. It’s because of this that he doesn’t put up an umbrella, he continues walking as he’s gradually soaked in deep, entrenched yearning, until one day, he finally realises it’s raining.

It’s on the morning of Rossi’s 60th birthday party that it finally clicks and, suddenly, it’s obvious. He let Derek carry him to bed last night after he fell asleep watching a movie, for God’s sake: he’d even woken up on the way but faked it just so he wouldn’t put him down. He’s known for years that a 187 IQ doesn’t mean his emotional intelligence is excellent, too, but this feels ridiculous even for him. He’s practically been in a relationship for years and he had no idea. This must be why he always got that strange feeling in his stomach when Derek talked about literally anybody else.

This is not an ideal realisation to come to when Derek is currently cuddled around him, about to wake up any minute. Spencer tries very hard not to think about the fact that he won’t blink an eye at their entwined limbs and what that means, but he’s not exactly in control of his thoughts right now.

He feels like he sleepwalks through the morning, trying to pay attention to what Derek talks to him about as he cooks him breakfast, but his mind has sort of short-circuited, not knowing how to adapt to this new information. His brain is not equipped to process being in love, and zoning out is as good a coping mechanism as any for now. It’s not until they head back to the bedroom to get dressed and ready for the day that he snaps out of it.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek says loudly, clicking his fingers in front of Spencer’s face to get his attention.

“Hm?” Spencer hums, feeling the world fade back into focus despite the haze of confusion still dizzying him somewhat.

“Alright, you’ve been spacy with me all morning,” Derek says, shifting his weight slightly as he levels Spencer with an inquisitive gaze. He can’t help but feel a cool kind of dread pour down his spine at the idea of that look figuring him out. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, sorry,” Spencer says, forcing himself to snap back into action as he attempts to compartmentalise. “Just… didn’t sleep well, I guess.”

Derek looks doubtful but takes him at his word. “Okay,” he acquiesces. “Better get dressed, though. We’ve got a lot to get through today.”

“We do?” Spencer asks, ignoring the fact that he’s still stood in his ratty, oversized shirt and underwear in front of the man he’s deeply in love with, maybe for the sake of his sanity, maybe because he finds it hard to be embarrassed in front of Derek Morgan, not after all these years.

“Yeah,” Derek says, like it’s obvious, “we gotta run to the grocery store and pick up a present for Rossi - probably some food for this barebones apartment of yours, too - pick up my clothes from the dry cleaners, and swing round Penelope’s to give her the blender I borrowed back. And I know for a fact you have some work to do on your latest paper, as well.”

Spencer, with his new perspective on the situation, considers the fact that Derek has included him in errands that are pretty exclusive to his own life. He also considers the fact that he never would have stopped to think this odd if he didn’t have the knowledge he has now. Unfortunately, simply considering does not shed much light on the situation.

Because of this, Spencer does what he’s always done. He nods and gets ready for his day of driving around with Derek doing very mundane chores and wonders why he feels so excited.

(While they’re out and about, it strikes Spencer why the realisation that he’s in love with Derek feels so paralysing: almost everyone he’s ever loved has left. He’s 34 and he’s never had a loving, committed relationship, and that’s for a reason: there’s only so much grief one heart can take. How could he ever give himself over to someone, hand them the key to his heart, open the door into his life, knowing that they could leave? Forever simply doesn’t exist, not for Spencer anyway. And truly, he doesn’t think he’d survive the loss of Derek, he can’t think of anything in the world that would be more painful.)

Despite the emotional exertion of the day, Rossi’s party is actually fairly enjoyable, probably aided by the glass of wine Spencer had accepted immediately upon entering the garden, he bloody well deserved it after the day he’s had. He gets chatting with JJ and Hotch and he barely even notices the absence of Derek by his side, having been roped into a conversation with Rossi and one of his famous poker friends that Spencer wouldn’t be able to place with a gun to his head.

It’s not long before they reconvene though, programmed with some kind of homing instinct that always leads them back to one another, and Derek’s leaning a bit too close. Spencer finds it a little hard to breathe with his body pressed so close to his own, Derek’s warm, wine flavoured breath on his ear making his insides flip and setting butterflies free to roam his stomach.

They spend the rest of the party like that, pressed away together in a corner, tucked inside one another’s pockets, and Spencer knows that he’s responsible for at least half of the instigation: he’s pressing back against Derek’s side with just as much pressure, leaning in closer, laughing a little louder, not bothering to hide the adoration that must be plainly written across his face.

“Wanna come back to mine for a drink?” Derek asks as the night draws to a close, and how can Spencer refuse? They spend more nights together than apart at this point, and the last thing he wants is to feel lonely tonight, not after today.

“Please,” is all he says.

No-one says anything when they leave together, Derek’s hand loosely placed on his lower back.

Derek’s apartment is warm and tidy, the opposite of Spencer’s, but it feels just as much like home as his own when he steps over the threshold. He’s about to tell him just that, but as he turns around to face him, Derek’s looking at him in a way he’s never seen before and his breath catches.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

Derek steps a little closer, crowding into his space even more. “Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Spencer doesn’t bother answering, instead closing the gap on his own and pressing his lips to Derek’s. His hands go to Derek’s side on instinct but as he kisses back, Spencer feels one hand tangling itself gently in his hair, and another cupping his jaw and he gives way, melting into the touch. The whole thing goes right to his stomach, feeling it bottom out as the intensity of the moment threatens to overwhelm him before a small sound escapes Derek’s lips and he’s reminded who’s kissing him, whose hands are on him, who’s making him feel these things. All of a sudden, it’s easier to let go.

Their lips mould together as they collapse into one another, the final piece of the gradual intertwining of their lives and bodies over the last twelve years. A fire lights under Spencer and he feels his world tilt on its axis, except unlike previous life-altering experiences, this time it feels like its tilting into place, as though he’s been off-kilter this whole time, finally returned to his natural state.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this,” Derek whispers as they pull away.

“Why didn’t you kiss me sooner, then?” Spencer asks.

“Today is the first day you knew you wanted it,” Derek replies, before he’s kissing him again.

(Later that night, when they’re tucked into Derek’s bed, Spencer lies with his head on his chest, comforted by the steady, reassuring heartbeat as Derek whispers promises of forever into his hair. Spencer knows that nobody can ever really promise anything, but for the first time in his life, he decides it doesn’t matter. They’ll have to part some day, in one way or another - maybe Spencer will be the one to go first this time - but he realises that he’d rather have known Derek like this, to have known how it feels to love and be loved back, only to have him leave, than to have him stay and never know it at all.)

@criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

#my writing #moreid #moreid fic #moreid writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #tw substances #tw drugs #tw sh #tw self harm #tw grief #tw depression

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captcas · 4 years

Text

hoax

exile by capthamm

your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in

part five of capthamm’s captain swan’s folklore read on ao3 / read the ao3 series

Grounding herself, Emma fists her hands until her fingers irritate the road burn coating her palms. Regina just got off the phone with Cruella DeVil and Ursula. Cruella and Ursula.

What the fuck?

Killian arrives and she immediately feels the cool touch of his hook rest on her slightly exposed hip. She’s not sure when this became second nature but she’s glad it has— the consistency grounding her further.

Storybrooke. Chernabog. Town line. Cruella. Ursula. Killian. Hook.

Captain Hook.

She’s dating Captain Hook while co-parenting with the Evil Queen who's trying to decide if she should give Cruella DeVil and Ursula a chance at redemption.

What. the. fuck.

She doesn’t have to deal with these looming realizations as often as she did when the curse broke (the first time), but every once in a while something throws her into a tailspin and she has a hard time finding her way out.

If it weren’t for Killian she’d bet her life savings that Storybrooke was all a delusion and she was sitting in a hospital somewhere compensating for years of home hopping and abandonment.

But then there’s Killian.

There’s been three moments in which Emma knew she wasn’t living a lie.

The first was when Henry came back to her after biting the poisoned turnover. The moment he hugged her… that moment was so visceral, she knew it had to be real.

The second was when Neal died, when she felt a wave of feeling wash over her too great to comprehend. More sobering than any event in her life before, it was a direct reminder nothing is permanent.

The third is every moment she’s spent with Killian since the moment she’s met him. Maybe that’s cheating, shoving hundreds of moments into one, but since she’s met Killian everything has changed.

She was standing in the middle of Cora’s attack, heartless corpses scattered at her feet and she felt another loop setting in, then there was Killian. And so their story goes. Every moment of what the fuck and you’ve got to be kidding me, Killian’s been there— whether on the right side or not is here nor there.

She grasps his hand tightly, drawing a small “x” with her thumb near his wrist and she notices him nod slightly before addressing their ragtag fairytale army, “Emma and I are going to head to Granny’s for some food and then we’ll meet Belle at the library to research our new winged friend.” Everyone nods enthusiastically and leaps into action, David delegating the rest of the group out as Killian squeezes Emma’s hand and leads her away from the chaos.

Once they’re out of ear shot, Killian speaks, “Are you alright, love?”

She loves him. It’s weird, the moment you realize something so profound, but she guesses the small moments are as good as any. “I will be. It’s just… a lot.”

“Aye, Swan. I’m sure it would be for anyone not of our land, but you’ve made great strides in making your own place in this world.” He pulls her in tighter and Emma breathes in his welcoming scent. She always envisioned pirates smelling awful, but Killian is probably the cleanest person she knows. Pirates. She takes a deep breath before diving too deep into that thought.

“Thanks.” She smiles up at him, and she can tell Killian knows how much she means it despite her lack of flowery sentiments he is so versed in. He kisses her temple and she welcomes the silence.

She could handle Elsa making her way into town. Emma was on a level playing field with everyone else, backstories practically nonexistent until Anna entered the picture, but with the arrival of Cruella and Ursula, something shifted in everyone.

There’s history there Emma isn’t a part of and no one is being very forward when it comes to clueing her in. Killian’s holding something back, but she assumes it’s out of shame and knows he’ll tell her on his own time– she didn’t fall in love with a man unscathed; dismal pasts are just part of the package. What’s killing her are her parents, both clearly hiding some dark past with these villains. It’s resurfacing all the anxiety she felt the day the first curse broke. Everyone was so elated, families reunited and memories restored, but Emma felt exactly the same– her relief Henry was going to be alright aside. Snow White hugged her daughter for the first time while Emma hugged her friend Mary Margaret for what felt like the hundredth time.

The playing field was anything but level.

The Enchanted Forest was only a further extension of that, Emma constantly on edge yet feeling 6 steps behind. When she got back to Storybrooke, she felt herself level out— at least she knew how to use the restroom here.

Emma hates to say it, but besides the fact Henry was kidnapped, Neverland was a welcome challenge. Killian warned them the island was greatly unknown even to those who reside there permanently. The playing field leveled itself out completely as everyone seemed just as clueless as she was.

Don’t even get her started on her magic.

Henry has had that book memorized since she met him, the stories practically his now despite him not being alive for the majority of them. He’s always on pace with the rest of the group, knowing references to past dalliances and squabbles without so much as turning a page. She’s glad he’s not feeling this level of anxiousness, but wishes beyond all belief that she could take some of that photographic fairytale memory for herself.

It’s the squeeze of Killian’s hand that brings her back to the present and allows her to walk up the steps to Granny’s without tripping and making an ass of herself. Killian places their order and leans in close to tell Ruby something privately. Before Emma can wonder what he’s said, Killian is leading her up the back steps towards his room and unlocking the door.

“I thought you could use some familiar territory to decompress, love.”

Emma loves him. It’s the only thing that’s convinced her this isn’t some dream that is only minutes from being over. It’s what keeps her fighting tooth and nail for some semblance of normal in her new life which is decidedly anything but. It’s what grounds her when there are literal flying demons from hell trying to take her into the sky.

It’s the only thing that’s made perfect sense.

“Thank you, Killian.” He smiles and begins to turn away, not picking up the true gravity of her appreciation. Emma grabs his wrist and he turns back towards her, worry etched into his brow.

“Are you sure you’re alright, love?” She should answer, but finds herself too busy searching his eyes for any hint that this is a dream.

Emma’s known she loves him for a while now, since the moment they returned from the past– the monumental nature of his trade for her family’s safety winning her heart completely. She doesn’t dare tell him that though– she fears the moment she does is the moment she wakes up back in Boston… alone. Emma hasn’t been alone since the moment Henry found her, and while there are moments she wishes for time to sort out her thoughts, she relishes every moment with her family. At this point, she’s not sure she’d know how to be alone anymore and the thought of leaving this reality for the truth scares her everyday.

Killian’s the only one who seems to remind her this is as real as it gets.

His thumb brushes softly across her wrist where he’s slowly taken control. As though he could read her mind, Killian nods ever-so-slightly, a comforting smile breaking across his face. She squeezes his hand, purposely placing one of his rings in an uncomfortable position on her hand in a futile attempt to wake herself up before she jumps to the point of no return.

Emma finds his eyes again– somehow her anchor even though they’re as blue as the sea. She used to drown in them, the emotions she felt overtaking her as they acted as x-rays into her soul, but as time moved on all she found was comfort. Taking a deep breath, she decides she doesn’t want to live on this edge anymore. If this is all a hoax, she wants to know now before the pain of waking would be more excruciating than she already imagines it would be, but also before he tells her first, and the fear of the unknown stops her from returning the sentiment. Emma aches to tell him, so that she can finally know if the fairytale (literally) she’s been living is truly her life.

So she does.

“I love you.”

As Emma expected, he surges in for a kiss, his actions speaking louder than her three words -even long ago. He comes up for air, and for a moment, Emma refuses to open her eyes, sure the dream will have changed, or worse she’ll have woken up all together, but then that moment passes. Killian’s forehead is hot against hers as she feels the smiles lines grow across it. He breathes out and his breath graces her lips softly. In a seemingly impossible task, Killian closes what little distance remains between them. Emma moves in to kiss him once more, but he leans back slightly to stop her. It’s then, on instinct alone, that Emma finally opens her eyes. As she gazes into an endless expanse of blue, a weight lifts from her chest– a weight left long ago when she turned to find cops in that alleyway instead of Neal. She never realized how heavy it was, not until the moment it was gone– or if not gone, shared.

“I love you too, Swan.”

He brings her back to the here and now in an instant and she’s home.

His voice– light and full of the kind of happiness she truly thought was reserved for the best of dreams– buries itself deep into her mind, creating a sort of tattoo on the memories that lived there. Sure, she’d been told I love you many times, by many people, but the words that leave Killian’s mouth feel permanent.

They feel real.

She rushes forward to kiss him, once again. The electricity radiating through her body, the feel of his hands laced along her lower back, and the smile forming against her lips finally convince her that, while her life may be part fairytale, it’s undoubtedly as real as any of the others in Henry’s ancient book.

. . .

@mariakov81 @lfh1226-linda @kmomof4 @superchocovian @pirateherokillian @teamhook @nikkiemms

#captain swan fanfiction #cs ff #cs canon divergence #emma swan #killian jones #capthamm #captain swan's folklore #taylor swift #hoax taylor swift

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somedayonbroadway · 4 years

Note

Hello! So a while back, you wrote an idea about Spot being kidnapped. I really liked it, and I was wondering if you could write the scene in which Race is brought in? Thank you!

The idea this Anon is talking about can be found here!

TW: Kidnapping

It was dark. It was always dark in that godforsaken room. It was some kind of abandoned building. The basement of one. Spot had always known this was a possibility. His job was to protect. He had to keep witnesses safe. All he’d been doing was his job. He was protecting these people.

But whoever this person was really wanted to find Katherine Plumber.

Okay, maybe this was more than just a job. Maybe this was slightly personal. Maybe Katherine Plumber was actually Katherine Pulitzer. The same Katherine Pulitzer who had somehow gotten the great, untamable Jack Kelly to settle down.

Katherine Pulitzer was no stranger to Spot Conlon. In fact, she was a friend; a sister. Spot had an unconventional family. But he protected them with every ounce of strength he possessed.

It was only hard to breathe. He could push through that. The darkness had never bothered him much before. It just made it easier to think and rest before the torture started again. Spot was never really much of a religious man. With the life he’d had all growing up it was difficult to believe it and if he had, all he would have been able to hold in his heart for this person who lived up in the clouds was resentment and hate. If there was a God, They’d certainly never been around to help him out.

Now, though, maybe it was just to pass the time, maybe it was because he genuinely wanted help, he prayed. He closed his eyes and prayed for Katherine to stay in hiding, to stay safe.

He got no reply.

Only the door creaking open and a voice. “Good morning, Mr. Conlon.” As it had been the past two mornings, Spot did not respond. He only glared, sitting with his back up against the wall, his hands cuffed in front of him and his ankles shackled to the floor. He could only walk about two feet before he was stopped. So he didn’t try anymore. He just waited. “I’ve realized that we’ve truly been getting nowhere, so we’re gonna try something a little different today.”

Before Spot could even begin to let his mind wander, two more people were coming through the door. But only one was walking willingly.

One man had a mask over his face, just as the leader did. But the other… the other was struggling and screaming like mad beneath a brown hood that was over his head to keep him blind. His hands were bound behind him and his left leg was bleeding from what looked to be a knife wound. It didn’t look life threatening. But it looked like it hurt as the person was being dragged rather than being forced to walk.

It only took a moment, one single moment for Spot to recognize the scar on the person’s bare chest. The scowl he wore slowly fell and his eyes widened as he tried to move forward, the screaming and muffled wails making his head hurt. “I gotta say… I never pegged you as queer, but… he’s adorable, isn’t he?”

The hood was ripped off of the new hostage and Spot couldn’t move. He pushed himself forward, crawling towards those blue eyes that were red rimmed and completely terrified. He let out a shaken breath. “Tyler James?”

There was a gag in the boy’s mouth. It was a cloth, forcing the blond’s lips open and knitting tightly at the back of his head. “Tyler James…” his captor hummed, petting a hand over Tyler’s soft blond curls. Spot watched him try to shy away. He couldn’t. He was trapped. “A beautiful name for a beautiful boy—“

“Leave him outta this!” Spot demanded, glaring up at the cruel man. “He doesn’t know anything!”

“His brother is engaged to Katherine Pulitzer, is he not?” the man countered. “He might be useful for snuffing them out…”

Race’s eyes snapped up at that. Spot could see the pure desperation in his eyes. The one that said “Please… please don’t hurt my brother…” because Jack and Race were closer than most brothers could be. With everything they’d gone through, they had every right to be.

Spot had never begged for anything. It wasn’t in his nature. He was the kind who took what he wanted because he’d learned long ago that that was the only way to get anything in this world. Contrary to popular belief, Spot wasn’t heartless, but he never showed people his weaknesses.

This, however, was unlike anything Spot had ever faced before. He could take the torture. He could take the beatings and the electrocution and the starvation and the exhaustion.

Race couldn’t.

So Spot did the only thing he could think to do.

He started begging.

“Please… please, he’s innocent. Let him go… just let him go…”

“Oh… now we’re getting somewhere…” Spot looked up at his captor sitting up on his knees. The man who Spot assumed was much older than him grabbed Race by the hair. The blond let out a pained squeak as he stood quick, balancing on one leg. “Yes, blondie… you’ll do nicely…”

Before Spot could say anything else, a blindfold was pulled tightly over his boyfriend’s eyes, making him scream even further. Spot watched in horror as they dragged him into the other corner of the room, breathing hard and desperate to get away. There was a small cage connected to the wall. It was big enough that Race could walk around a bit, but he didn’t. The moment he was shoved in, their captor pushed him to the floor. The poor boy was on his back, his hands still bound beneath him as the man loomed over him. Spot’s heart dropped. “Don’t touch him…” he growled, masking his fear with anger. Race whimpered at the words, though he didn’t move. “Don’t you dare touch him!”

“Oh don’t you worry, Mr. Conlon,” the evil man laughed, squatting down and resting a hand on Race’s leg, only tightening his grip when the blond instinctively tried to jerk away. “I’ve got special plans for your boy toy, here…”

Spot watched his baby clench his teeth around the gag and frantically move his head around, trying to get the blindfold off of his face. “Leave him alone!”

Reaching up to stroke Race’s hair, almost as though he was trying to calm him, the man chuckled. Race let out a muffled sound, turning away. Spot tried to get up, but the chains weren’t long enough for him. His boy was just out of his reach. “Don’t worry… we’ll take good care of you, Tyler James.” That promise was the last thing he said before the door to the cage was shut and locked and their captor offered Spot a cruel wink before he and his goon left the room, leaving Race sobbing, terrified in the corner of his cage.

“Tyler…” Spot called the second they were alone. “Baby… can ya hear me?” Race was still crying. But he nodded. “That’s good, pretty boy! That’s good… you’re gonna be alright, I’m right here…” His boy let out a muffled moan, sounding all too much like the nickname the blond had given him years ago. Spottie. “I know, babydoll, I know. Just stay calm, I’m gonna get us out of here… I love you so much…” Again, Tyler groaned, knowing that trying to speak would make no difference. Spot’s heart broke. “Just try and relax. I know your leg hurts, but resting will make it better, okay?”

Spot was never the talker in their relationship. That had always fallen to Race who, despite growing up in foster care and being unable to trust everyone but his big brother, loved to talk to people and was one of the biggest extroverts he knew. Spot had always been good at being the calm presence, something to keep the younger man grounded. But unlike Race, Spot wasn’t one with words. Race always knew what to say. Now, all Spot could think to say was, “I love you, Tyler James… so much…”

Race couldn’t respond. He didn’t move, trembling simply laying on his back. Spot couldn’t take his eyes off of his boy.

All he could do was pathetically watch from outside that cage.

This was more than just another witness under protection. This was personal. He knew what was coming. He’d be forced to make a choice. Katherine Pulitzer or the love of his life.

It was dark and Spot couldn’t think. All he could do was watch the figure of Race slowly struggle to get free of the ropes that held his wrists together. There was nothing he could do. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Spot knew the odds of them both making it out of this. But he chose to ignore them.

He would get them out of this. He had to.

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uppersidedreams · 3 years

Text

[ song kang, cis man, twenty-two ] Let’s give a warm welcome to one of Sparkwood’s finest, WILLIAM “BILL” DENBROUGH !! Before coming here, he once lived on the pages of IT. Though now they currently spend most of their time as a SCREENWRITER. If you ask the townsfolk about what they are like, you will hear that they are STRONG but also SKITTISH. If they had a theme song it would be HAUNTING - HALSEY.

you can find the rest of my muses here !

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of kidnapping, possible death, and depression.

with no recollection of his birth parents, bill denbrough was adopted by a loving couple at the age of two. he was given everything that a child could ever dream for, spending his days playing outdoors and even reading from an early age. it seemed that bill was extremely gifted and perceptive, even as a child, he was leaps and bounds ahead of most other children his age academically. when he was six years old, his parents informed him that he was going to get his one greatest wish that he had as an only child: a baby brother. georgie was his parents’ miracle child, they were not supposed to be able to have children and yet somehow he was still brought into his world. from the moment georgie was born, bill took on the role of the protective older brother and doted on the other as much as possible. while georgie annoyed him occasionally, he would do absolutely anything for his younger brother.

everything was fairly normal in bill’s life until that fateful fall day. bill was supposed to go out and play with his younger brother but was suffering from bronchitis that prevented him from doing so, completely bed-bound. so, he promised georgie that he would go out to play with him some other time. though that was a promise that he was never able to keep considering the fact georgie never came home that night. a manhunt for the boy was conducted but there was no sign of him. bill’s parents were completely broken and bill was left with an insurmountable wealth of survivor’s guilt. he blamed himself for not being there to look out for his brother.

the only thing that was able to get him through this dark time was his best friends, they called themselves the losers club. while none of them were individually accepted in school, they always loved and cared for one another. years passed and georgie never turned off, the family was forced to accept the fact that he might not be alive anymore. but bill was convinced that georgie was still out there, that someone had him. both of his parents laughed off his notion, but bill was determined to prove that he was right — to find georgie somehow. having hallucinations of his younger brother, bill attempted to leave behind the ghosts of his past when college rolled around. he abandoned not only those hurtful memories but his friends, attending college in california where he majored in screenwriting.

he used writing and reading as forms of escapism, writing screenplays that allowed him to push the darker thoughts that ran through his mind out of it. after graduation, he decided to return home and work remotely. coming back to sparkwood is a bittersweet thing for bill, he still feels as if he’s haunted.

HEADCANONS.

bill has an overactive imagination and sometimes that still gets to him today, causing him to have paranoia fueled beliefs.

he has had a speech impediment since he was a child and the stutter went away over the years, but it comes back in waves every now and then — especially when he’s stressed or there are high emotions involved.

he has a fear of clowns, don’t ask him to explain this phobia. he loves horror movies but refuses to watch any that involve clowns.

he is bisexual and somewhat confused about his sexuality.

he never learned how to drive and prefers to ride his bike named silver around town.

struggles with major depression but attends therapy sessions to work on his inner turmoil that he still battles with.

only came back to town after receiving a call from an old friend (mike), deciding to spend as much time as he could with his parents and try and get over the negative feelings he still has about the town of sparkwood.

he feels as if his parents stopped caring about him after georgie disappeared.

his closet is just 90% flannels, a true fashion disaster.

#spark. intro #tw: kidnapping #tw: depression

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sbwriel-cymraeg · 4 years

Text

Eddie Kaspbrak deserved better.

Let me start with this. IT, written by Stephen King, made into a movie in 2017 and then another in 2019, about a clown with a big forehead, who likes dining on children, and gets his ass kicked by a group of teenage misfits (and then again when said misfits are just about past their midlife crisis). It's a horror, it's creepy and it's gross, now you see, I don't do horrors. I'm an absolute wuss. I can't even walk into a creepy abandoned building without a plank of wood in my hand for protection, and at least two people on either side of me who would obviously be kidnapped first (and that gives me enough time to scream and run away). Anyway, I don't like horrors. So you can probably guess that there was no way in hell, or earth, that I would be watching something that involved a terrifying monster who drools as much as a bulldog (he should seriously get that checked). No way I was going to read the book, as much as I love reading, and wouldn't even consider the original from the 90s although the 90s rules the movie scene (don't argue, we all know Jurassic Park is the best movie of all time). But the thing was, I have a friend, and he can be very persuading (in the form of pizza and snacks) and also, I'm a huge McAvoy fan, and James Ransone, I've never seen that guy before but well, when I saw him in the trailer, hello handsome. And don't get me started on Bill Hader, man do I fancy that bloke... Anyway I'm going off topic. So blah blah, we end up sitting down one night, with our buffet and many cups of tea, and weirdly, we start watching IT Chapter 2 first, because he wanted to see it since it was new. I go into it with no bloody clue what was going on, who was who, why parents would let their kid out in the rain by themselves, or how nobody noticed a load of bodies leaking out of the sewer. I was asking alot of questions. But, here's the thing. Onto the whole point of this rant. Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie Spaghetti. Eds. The cute, little, angry man who instantly caught my attention (not just by the fact that Mr Ransone is a handsome S.O.B). From the moment he sped down the road in his posh jeep, yelling at other drivers (I feel your pain Eds) to crashing said posh jeep because he was distracted by a phone call (bad Eddie!) He instantly stole my 28 year old, attracted to dark and handsome older men, heart. Of course, I had no clue about these characters, all I saw was cute, angry man, funny dork with glasses, red headed lady, that guy from New Zealand, man who lasted five seconds, handsome librarian, and Professor X, and of course that clown that lives in the drain. So, as the movie went on, Eddie became my number one (Richie following behind in second). I learnt all about him from my friend, and more about him during the film, and couldn't help but feel sorry for the little bastard. He had a wife that I could tell he didn't love who treated him like doodoo, as a kid his dearest mom was overprotective, controlling and gave him freaking placebos to make him think he was ill (the fuck Mrs K?), that made him so nervous about getting sick and paranoid beyond belief, and I mean, his job wasn't the most exciting. Not to mention he has anxiety worse than a nun in a whore house, and was obviously afraid the most out of the group. And then, AND THEN, the film decides to drop some hints about Richie. Ah, dearest Richie, who has perfect taste in men. He's in love with Eddie. In. Freaking. Love with him. You could tell by the way he was so protective of him, constantly made fun of him (we all know that's how dudes get their crushes attention) and of course, R + E. So, of course, nearing the end of the movie, there's me grinning like an idiot, having the thought of Eddie and Richie getting out of the final fight untouched, Richie declaring his undying love for his Eddie Spaghetti, Eddie admitting his feelings for his Trashmouth, getting a kiss in there, Eds declaring he was divorcing him moth- sorry, wife, and the two walking into the sunset to start a new life together, in a nice cottage in the hills, getting married, having three kids, five dogs, ten cats, and living happily ever after. But then, my hopes and dreams were shattered. Stephen, I'm looking at you. They killed Eddie. THEY KILLED EDDIE! EDDIE! Out of all the FREAKING characters they could have booted off, they chose Eddie the rage monster, the little man with a big personality, the least deserving to freaking die in my opinion. Stephen, how could you? How could you?! Why did he have to die? Why did they have to end his life that way? Why couldn't he have a happy ending like the rest of the Losers? Not including Richie of course. Oh no, they didn't just fuck Eddie over, they also fucked over Richie. Killing the love of his life, right after he saves him, bleeding all over his big ass glasses, calling his name softly, looking at him with his big, brown eyes. Yep, Richie probably went home after the Kissing Bridge and thought about Eddie every damn day of his life. But no, they didn't just kill Eddie, oh no no, they went a step further. They left his body to rot in the sewers. Yes Andy, I'm glaring at you, you evil, evil man. They didn't take the route that Mr King took in his book, or from the original IT movie (yes I watched that later on too) no, Mr A decided to have Eddie die all alone whilst the Losers finished off Pennywise, then have Richie go back and see his dead body, freak out and have hope that they can save him, hug him tight, and not let him go. And then, oh boy, and then, they have Mike and Ben literally FORCE Richie off of Eddie, and DRAG him out of the sewers. WITHOUT EDDIE. I'm sorry Mr Andy, but tell me, how could they, Eddie's best friends, the ones who were always there for him, who they loved and adored, leave Eddie there in the sewers, all alone, in the dark, dirty, graveyard that would have had Eddie crying at the thought? It didn't make ANY sense to me. If Ben and Mike had the strength to drag a struggling, six foot something Richie away from Eddie, then surely they could have picked Eddie up between them, and got him out of there. If I was Richie, I would have decked the lot of them, Losers or not. And that's where I got pretty darn mad. Eddie didn't deserve that shit. For one, he didn't deserve to die. And two, he didn't deserve to be left down there, to slowly decay. He should have been pulled out by his friends, Richie could have had a moment with him, Eddie could have been given a funeral where his friends, and especially Richie could have said goodbye. Then, they'd have had somewere where they could memorialise him, go back and place flowers and silly things like inhalers and red shorts on his headstone, have a get together and remember him and talk to him, somewhere where Richie could always go to, knowing that Eddie was put to rest properly, and somewhere were he could sit and cry to himself, remembering all the fucking good times they had as kids and how god damn hard he fell for the crazy little shit. But, nah, we'll just leave him in the sewers, under a collapsed house, somewhere the Losers wouldn't want to visit again, somewhere they can't have a funeral, can't put Eddie to rest, somewhere that has too many bad memories and would remind everyone of how exactly Eddie lost his life. So yeah, you can say I'm pretty mad about all of that. I know he's a fictional character, but damn, he didn't deserve that shit. Neither did Richie. And to make it worse, when I watched the first movie afterwards, Eddie was just as freaking hilarious, and ridiculous as his older self. Little Eddie was a force to be reckoned with, he was definitely still my favourite even as a kid. The dude who played him, huge kudos to him. How could you not like tiny Eddie? It also showed me a lot more about how Eddie grew up, by that I mean how his mother really did treat him, and boy did I hate the fact that he died even more! So yeah, I may have gone off on one a tad... I couldn't help myself, Eddie Kaspbrak has now got a big place in the fictional character side of my heart. Just goes to show just how much actors can make an impact on people's lives, and how real they make them seem! So, I've said my part, and it's pretty obvious what I think about the ending to Mr Spaghetti's story. Encase you didn't get how I feel about it, it sucked. Eddie Kaspbrak should have lived. Should have had a second chance, especially with Richie! Not all movies follow the ending of books, so why did this one have to? Why did Ben and Redhead get to have a happily ever after and Richie and Eddie didn't? Why didn't they at least make his death meaningful and give him the send off he deserved? In other words, Eddie deserved better. That should be the motto of the movie. That's me signing off, I'm going to go be mad somewhere else, because I'll never get over this movie. I'm a huge fan now, but man, the ending was as bad as Bill's endings. Oh and uh, fuck you Pennywise. Oh, also, if anyone's going to Wales Comic con this Saturday (you should, because James Ransone will be there, I know right, what are the chances?) come say hi. I'll be dressed in a yellow raincoat and green wellies, holding a red balloon... Don't ask why, I just like the colours. See you later, Losers.

#Eddie Kaspbrak #it #James Ransone #Richie tozier #it chapter 2 #reddie

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nukagalreacts · 5 years

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Companions react to Sole teleporting back to the Institute in the middle fo an argument part-Two!

Here is a super angsty part two! Hope you enjoy my lovely readers and requesters!

Piper: She was so excited when Sole finally acquired the only way to transport into the Institute and had waited, shaking with excitement and burning through a whole pack of cigarettes as she waited for Sole’s return. Instead Sole came back with a disheartened look and an aura of failure combined with sadness, Piper had immediately taken Sole into her arms and led them somewhere private as she waved off everyone else trying to ask questions. They had sat in Sole’s room in silence for what seemed like forever before Sole told Piper to break out a bottle of vodka because they were both going to need a drink for what they were about to tell them. After each of them downing a glass Sole fixed Piper with a stare that burned through her before blurting out that there Son Shaun was the head of the Institute. Piper about choked on her own spit before hurriedly taking another swig of vodka and lighting another cigarette with shaking hands. “Shit Sole you can’t be serious” Sole just reconfirmed the whole situation and made Piper swear to keep it a secret, she could tell everyone about everything else but just keep the bit about her Son under wraps till they were ready to come forward.

Piper had kept her word as Sole continued to travel back and forth from the CommonWealth to the Institute, as time went on though Soe, started holding back information on the Institute. With this in mind, Piper started to get news from other sources that the Institute, in turn, was making a lot more appearances in certain areas, she realized with horror that Sole was becoming there information and selling them out slowly but surely. Confronting Sole about this was the worst feeling in the world, she finally had hope for humanity and it was crumbling in front of her. In the end, it wasn’t even an argument because Sole couldn’t deny what they were being accused of and knew they had betrayed everyone, but for them, there was no going back now. Within the blink of an eye Piper watched Sole disappear as they no doubt slunk back to the Institute to hide from the consequences of their actions, with new determination Piper went off to gather her allies and come up with a new plan to bring Sole and the Institute down, something she thought she would never have to say or do.

Deacon: He was the one who had put all of his belief and trust in Sole, was the one who vouched for them from the get-go and had opened up about his own struggles and past life leading up to this. Sole had sympathized with him and the causes he fought for and was more than happy to become an agent for the Railroad, and together they had been helping escaped synths from the Institute. Everything was going good for a while and the last thing Deacon expected was for Sole to find out her long lost Son was the one pulling the strings of the whole Institute. Sole had expected to find Shaun still a young kid but was met with the uncomfortable and painful truth of him really being an old man clinging on to what little time he had left. Deacon did his best to comfort Sole, but this type of pain was something he had never experienced, finding out you couldn’t have kids with the person you loved was one thing, but finding out you missed out on your whole kids life and would only be round to watch them die and knowing they where the bad guy, that’s some different shit all together. Deacon also knew better than most how pain could lead to one’s own demise and denial of what’s really happened altogether, something he could see Sole heading towards, as they refused to accept that there was no saving Shaun and they needed to let go.

The constant struggle over this eventually led to an argument that destroyed their relationship in one sweeping blow. Deacon knew how hard this was for Sole but he was reminding them that the person Shaun was now, wasn’t their son anymore and if they really wanted to save him and set things right than they needed to destroy the institute and everything evil within it. Sole was was quick to cruelly remind him that he wouldn’t know anything about the pain of losing a child because he was never able to have any! Deacon flinched away from Sole so hard that if anyone had been watching the scene unfold you would think Sole had punched him in the stomach. “I’m sorry Deacon but I choose to be with my Son, and whatever life you thought we could have together it just wasn’t meant to be” and with that Sole teleported back to the Institute. Deacon felt the world crumble around him as he sank to the ground and started to cry everything he had ever wanted was taken away from him for a second time, but this time he wasn’t sure he would be able to pick himself back up again.

Hancock: He would have followed Sole to the ends of the earth, and for now he was content following them around as they tried to locate there Son. After learning that Shaun was located somewhere within the Institute, he had a horrible feeling in the pit of his radiated stomach that things were about to get a lot worse. Once Sole had found a way to teleport to the Institute he had begged them to let him come with them, leaving out the part that he felt like he was going to lose them forever if he let them do this alone. Sole had shushed their worries with a kiss before disappearing, still he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread and it wouldn’t be until it was too late that he would learn just how right he had been.

It has been almost a month since Sole had returned with the ill-fated news of what really became of Shaun, and Hancock still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact how fast he had lost Sole to the Institute. At the same time though he wasn’t surprised after all how could he expect Sole to choose him over there own child, even if said child was the leader of a group hell-bent on dominating what was left of the world and everyone on it. Sole even kept insisting that they weren't siding with the Institute, they just wanted to be there for there dying Son. Hancock didn’t bother though and he found himself constantly arguing with Sole, questioning who their loyalty really belongs to and if they were going to throw him and everyone else under the bus and betrays their friends just to have a few more days with a dying man. Sole had gotten so angry at him that they punched him before stomping off and teleporting back to the Institute, leaving Hancock to wonder if he had created his own self-fulfilling prophecy.

MacCready: Him and Sole were one and the same when it came to wanting to protect their kids at all costs, and after Sole had helped him find the needed cure for his son he was determined to help Sole anyway he could with un-swaying loyalty. That was before realizing the truth of what had become of Sole’s son if anything he assumed Shaun would be dead not the leader of the worst organization to ever terrorize the CommonWealth! He was at a loss of what to do, how was he supposed to convince Sole to destroy the whole Institute with their Son still inside. It was something he wouldn’t have even been able to do if the roles were reversed, but it was what needed to be done nonetheless. As Sole found out more and more about the Institute, Mac kept trying to push Sole to share information with the Minutemen or the Railroad so they could start figuring out a plan to bring this place down for good. Every time he brought it up Sole would come up with an excuse to avoid the reality of the situation, and MacCready would be lying if he said he wasn’t started to get pissed off. If Sole was going to abandon everyone to go side with the Institute than they needed to be upfront and honest about it, and stop lying to him and all of there other friends.

Mac finally confronted Sole telling them I couldn’t keep playing both sides forever and they needed to choose, sparking outrage in Sole who yelled at him that it wasn’t that simple. He shook his head at them throwing his arms up in disbelief reminding them that their actions had consequences and right now they were doing a lot more harm than good. As much as Sole hated to admit it they knew Mac was right that it wasn’t fair, without even giving a response and not looking back Sole went back to the Institute, and that was the only answer Macready needed to be sure of Sole’s choice. He just wishes Sole had chosen differently, they had been through so much together and he thought Sole had really cared about him and his Son almost as much as Lucy had, but it turns out that hadn’t been the case at all.

Valentine: Nick was the one who helped Sole from the start and the first one who had been there real chance of any hope of finding Shaun with his detective skills. When they had gotten to know each other more and Nick revealed that he had been a prototype of synth dumped into the garbage by the Institute Sole instantly knew they had no love for the Institute. They couldn’t wrap there mind around how someone could put someone’s memories into another body, give it feeling and then just discard them with no remorse. As time went on and Sole learned more about the Institute and the cruelness they possessed and spread all in the name of science the more they hated them, and finding out that they were the ones responsible for there son’s kidnaping installed a rage so fierce in them that they vowed to destroy the Institute given the chance.

Fate was a twisted thing though and Nick hadn’t been prepared when Sole came back bearing the news that the baby he was trying to help Sole find was an old man Leading the Institute. Sole had cried for days over what to do because they weren’t about to just kill their son, even if they didn’t have that much time left to live anyways. The worst past for Nick though was learning Shaun had asked Sole to take up his place once he had passed away because deep down he knew Sole wouldn’t be able to refuse the only request there Son was ever able to be going to ask of them. That didn’t mean that Nick didn’t try to talk them out of it reminding them just how Much they had said they despised the Institute, Sole was convinced they could change it’s evil way’s though even though Nick kept insisting that it was deeply embedded in the Commonwealth as a place of horror and fear. Both of them would argue about it non-stop until one day Sole just had enough and before Nick even realized what they were doing they teleported back to the Institute leaving him to wish he had never found their son at all and that all of this was just some horrible nightmare.

And there you have it folks once more thanks for reading and following me and supporting me in general to do this! Also thanks for the request I enjoyed typing it up-Much love from Ashley everyone :)

#Fo4 #companions react #Fallout 4 companions #Sole is so mean in this #deacon #MacCready #Mayor Hancock #Nick Valentine #Piper #extreme angst #tw:mention of not being able to have kids #just for Deacon's part though #I know tha can be a painful subject #super sad #part 2

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edgarbright · 4 years

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[ Zero's route | Part 24 spoilers ]

Oh my god, fam, oh my goodness

Don't expect this to be coherent but do expect it to be long because I'm bursting with emotions right now

Spoiler mentions from Sirius and Edgar’s routes

THIS IS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED BUT NEVER EVEN EXPECTED TO HAVE. I didn’t know this was something I could even ASK for.

My five favorite guys teaming up for the battle at the top of the Magic Tower. ALL FIVE OF THEM, NO MORE, NO LESS!

I literally decorated my room like this months ago to make this image but never had reason to use it-- until now!

Before I jump into part 24, let's go back a few parts for a second! All the events building up to this battle were marvelous.

The themes for this route are all about saving, rescuing, helping, belonging, loving.

And the bonds of trust.

Lancelot saves Alice from the Magic Tower, from himself, by directing Edgar to change assignment orders and send Zero to "help" him. Lancelot trusts Zero so much that he trusted Zero to betray him. He trusted Zero to do the right thing.

MY HEART IS BURSTING WITH LOVE FOR MY KING! T_T

Zero saves Alice from Lancelot at the Magic Tower's front door. He promised to protect her. He wanted to protect her. So he threw away everything to do so.

Harr saves Alice from the forest. Harr is "repenting for his sins" in regards to Zero and wouldn't have made a move if Zero hadn't agreed to it. But Zero realized he had to trust him. More so, Zero may have vaguely remembered him (per His POV) and knew he could trust him.

Harr and Alice go to save Zero from the Magic Tower. Alice already trusts Harr. Fun fact: Alice is ALWAYS quick to trust Harr in every route. (Then again, she’s quick to trust just about anyone so lol) I loved that we got a moment at Harr’s house and finally met Loki! It was a sweet little family moment. My belief has always been that Zero is also part of Harr’s “family” too and I was not disappointed! Zero carrying on Harr’s lollipop kindness. My heart. T_T

I would love it if Edgar got his candy addiction from Zero giving him candy for the first time and then it just got out of control (lol). No evidence yet but the route isn’t over...!

The truth about Zero reveal: I had already surmised as much because too many people in this fandom hint at spoilers like it’s their job but it still hurt to read about. The flashbacks to Zero as a child in the Tower are honestly painful. Also knowing that Harr would have been about 15 during those flashbacks, we now have one child trying to stay kind and show kindness to another child in a cruel environment and T_T Harr just wanted to study magic to make the world a better place, and instead he got wrangled into a world of child abuse and torture... And he’s still seeking to repent after twelve years for not saving Zero back then...

Edgar saves Alice from her prison cell. Good lordy God bless. Before that we saw him basically running Red Army HQ with Lancelot gone and Jonah at the front. Beautiful. Edgar is nothing BUT trustworthy in Zero's entire route. When Zero isn't around to protect Alice, such as at the party, he trusts Edgar to do it and Edgar does it spectacularly because Edgar is, in fact, the best.

As Dean so wonderfully stated earlier: Edgar is great at taking care of other people.

AND THAT’S THE TEA! Don’t let anyone tell you Edgar is anything but loving!

Edgar realizes Alice wants to come along with him to save Zero. Edgar trusts Alice to know what is best for her. He trusts Alice cares for Zero as much as Edgar cares for Zero, so they'll work together. BEAUTIFUL. I love my man acknowledging Alice’s strength!

Lancelot causing the explosion was somewhat expected. He’d vanished earlier and I KNEW he had to be up to something, somewhere.

And that moment when he betrayed Amon!? HOT DAMN I LOVE MY KING, Y’ALL!! A shame his attack didn’t work but I am ALL about that rescue-Lancelot lifestyle! Harr is too as we’ll see shortly lmao

Edgar saves Lancelot by evening the odds. THE TRUST BETWEEN THEM COMES FULL CIRCLE. I'm STILL buzzing over that goddamn moment chapters earlier when Edgar comes upon Lancelot kidnapping Alice from Red Army HQ. I honestly couldn't tell if Edgar would have followed commands or fight back, but you could tell he was wrestling with it. If Lancelot had forced him to follow orders, that would have been the ultimate betrayal considering Edgar is already pact-bound to be an obedient dog. Lancelot instead has Alice locked away so he can talk to Edgar 1:1. Lancelot might not have told him the whole truth but Edgar is intelligent enough to put the pieces together himself. He often does so in other routes without prompting.

Edgar and Alice save Zero together. EDGAR’S PLATONIC LOVE IS GIVEN EQUAL FOOTING AS ALICE’S ROMANTIC LOVE!! That moment when Zero was still holding out against Alice's pleading and Edgar just round-house kicks him to the ground and puts a sword to his neck and just DEMANDS Zero to think about who he is, what he wants, why he wields his sword!

HOT DAMN YOU TELL HIM, EDGAR! I LOVE EDGAR SO FREAKING MUCH!

My heart hurts so much for Zero, who was robbed, even temporarily, of all that love by the Magic Tower T_T They tossed him away, he found a place to belong, and they tore that from him. The absolute cruelty.

And then surprise! Loki saves Harr from imprisonment! Harr is no damsel in distress so I was wondering if our current team was going to have to rescue him later, or if he was going to rescue himself. But he absolutely deserved to be at the final fight AND I WAS NOT DISAPPOINTED! The second that ??? for the speaker showed up I was just !!!!!

Basically Edgar and then Harr’s appearances got me like:

So now we have a Lancelot, Edgar, Alice, Harr, and Loki team-up vs. Amon and Dalim! Operation Stop Amon and Save Zero is in full effect!

And holy shi-- The moment when Amon starts using Zero's tattoo to hurt him was brutal. It was bad enough when Dalim did it in front of Zero’s soldiers but here they are at it again in front of all the people who care about Zero the most.

Personally, I think it's wild that some people claim Ikevamp is darker than Ikerev. The Ikevamp cast talk about dark plots but the Ikerev cast deal directly with war, murder, betrayal, coercion, kidnapping, child abuse, child neglect, torture, PTSD, depression, child abandonment, and more. It just wraps them up in a prettier, brighter package.

But moving on!

Alice saves Zero from Amon. I love all the flashbacks. I love Alice's promise to Zero. I love how she guards his neck to keep him from hurting himself and how she'll protect him. How they’ll protect each other. It hurt so bad but felt so good.

(Mockingjay Part 2 was on TV last night so I already got a heavy dose of Peeta and Katniss angst and how they always protect each other -- “It’s what we do” -- so I was primed for the feels between Zero and Alice here.)

At some point Alice also shows sympathy for Dalim and that struck a cord with me as well. I was actually wondering what the point of Dalim has been, as a potential suitor, since he's just been acting like a second-rate Amon this whole time, being just as villainous and coercing Lancelot the same as Amon. But seeing Amon abusing Dalim, too, and having Dalim continue to fight even when he was in such bad shape just gives me a throw-back to Edgar, who continues to follow his uncle's orders even at the cost of hurting himself. Although that Dalim used Zero's tattoo to hurt him is a big F-NO so he's got lots of redeeming to do lol

Lancelot and Harr (LANCELOT AND HARR, TOGETHER, ALLIES, FRIENDS!!) save Edgar, Alice, and Loki from the collapsing building. Lancelot and Harr aren’t antagonists in this route! HARR ONLY HAS TO SAY LANCELOT’S NAME AND LANCELOT KNOWS WHAT HE MEANS AND WHAT THEY NEED TO DO!

Harr: Lancelot!

Lancelot: Yeah!

Lancelot and Harr used their magic to shield us from the falling debris.

THAT'S IT THAT'S ALL THE CONVERSATION THEY NEED AND THEY ARE IMMEDIATELY IN UNISON. My heart is bursting with love and happiness from such a small moment. I hope we get some follow-up after this omg

(As a salty aside, this is leagues different to when Harr shows up in Sirius's route and Sirius is just like, "What are you doing here???" and then Sirius gives Loki the third-degree with all that mistrust.)

BUT MOVING ON!

That final CG with Zero makes my heart bleed. He looks so sad and so tired, but he’s alive.

Zero: I'm home.

Alice: Welcome home!

I'M NOT CRYING YOU'RE CRYING!!!

I love Zero so much. A lot. In abundance. The love and relief is so palpable at this moment. Alice and Zero have such a beautiful love story.

Part 24 took me over a half hour to read which is twice as long as usual and every second of it was a PLEASURE. Just a few days left until I’m done with the whole route and it’s honestly shaping up to be one of the best in any otome. It’s adapted a lot of elements from other routes and made them it’s own to great effect. Just a fantastic, well-rounded story with a beautifully heart-warming romance. Bless bless bless!!

#my ikerev #ikerev zero #zero's route #zero route spoilers #ikerev spoilers #when i say rambling i mean rambling

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softlunars · 5 years

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cross one’s heart.

60 things ; things you said with clenched fists. — lee felix ; stray kids

gang au — gang leader!felix x reader

requested: [yes!]

you were well aware of the dark world you were thrust into — being involved with the leader of one of the most influential gangs in seoul. it never bothered you much; your fiancé had ordered protection to surround you at all hours of the day. nothing life-threatening has happened to you yet, hence you had no worries about the security of your life.

you met felix in high school. he was the resident “troublemaker.” the stench of cigarette smoke followed him everywhere - jokes would often circulate around the school about how “you could find him by following the smell of smoke. he reeks of it - wherever the smoke is, felix is.”

bruises were constantly blooming across his skin, as if he mindlessly jumped into fights every minute he was awake. he was quiet, mysterious - a carbon copy of the cliches you encountered in teen fiction books. felix lee was the embodiment of rebellion. the complete opposite of you.

if you were put on a graph, with the extremities of the graph labeled “high school prodigy” and “high school nightmare” respectively, you and felix would have millions of miles separating you two. this simple fact is the reasoning behind everyone’s shock when you two became a couple in the final year of high school.

the rebel and class president. what a cliche.

initially, you were oblivious to the criminal activity your then-boyfriend participated in. felix hid it well - you had to give him credit for that. on days he came home late, new bruises forming on his cheekbones, a dozen flowers would be your first sight. the bright arrangements distracted you - albeit momentarily - from the black eye reappearing, the cut above his eyebrow that released drops of blood; all the damage felix’s activities gave him as recompense. this didn’t last long, as you watched your boyfriend arrive home limping; as you watched him cradle his left arm close to his chest; as you watched the cuts on his face multiply in numbers.

felix knew he couldn’t keep his secret forever. it was only a matter of time until you would force it out of him. he was right. he knew he was right. one night, when he arrived home, blood staining his shirt around his stomach, you couldn’t keep yourself under rein.

he watched as you blew up, listened as your voice became hoarse from screaming, grimaced as tears began to fall from your eyes. he hated seeing you like this. seeing you so frustrated, so upset, so scared. it ate felix up that night. only when you started walking away, did he open his pandora’s box for you to see.

you were scared beyond belief when you listened to the horrors of your boyfriend’s “second life.” the worst circumstances started invading your thoughts as he continued to reveal everything to you. he could die. he could lose his life in the middle of an alleyway, and you wouldn’t know until some random stranger came to inform you at four in the morning. you were scared. not for yourself, but for felix.

when you expressed this to him, his eyes widened in shock. he had expected you to leave him on the spot, abandon him for the sake of your own safety. that would’ve been easier for the man to digest. hearing you tell him you were scared for him, scared something would happen to him, clutched his heart so tight he thought it would explode. you were staying. the last thing felix ever expected you to do.

you witnessed your boyfriend, who later became your fiance, rise through the ranks of his gang. you witnessed him become the leader of a substantial amount of people. you witnessed some evil acts - which hadn’t left your memories - that he committed.

you witnessed all of that and more. yet you still decided to stay.

this inevitably caused arguments. an abundance of them. felix would come home from another tiring day, his stature slouched, and you would begin to fret over him. of course, he’d let you, but when you began to pry, ask him why he looked so defeated - felix would erupt.

he hated the fact that he involved you in this - this mess of a thing he called his life. there was a reason he tried so desperately to keep his two realms separate. felix never wanted to see you hurt. he never wanted to be forced to bargain for your life. he never wanted to come home to an upturned house and a note asking for ransom - or it would be your life to pay. he never wanted any of that.

he watched his friends go through those moments. the stress that followed them until they set their loved one free. the dark circles that deepened under their eyes because they refused to sleep until their loved one came back. the aggressive temper they adopted. on rare occasions, he watched his friends break down, lose touch with reality, when they learned they were too late.

if anything happened to you, felix knew he would turn out worse than his friends had. he knew he’d lose his life, if it meant you kept yours. he knew all of this and so much more. the only thing that made sense in his mind was to keep you as far away from his criminal life as possible. when you finally figured out the reason behind felix’s late nights, the injuries that seemed to appear out of nowhere, why he’d bring flowers home every time he arrived later than usual - he almost lost his mind.

your safety wasn’t a guarantee anymore. your life wasn’t a guarantee anymore.

after that, felix wouldn’t let you leave the house without some sort of protection — a guard, pepper spray, some sort of weapon he taught you to handle. anything. the thought of losing you that became a reality made him paranoid beyond reasonable bounds. felix was already responsible for the hundreds of members under his gang. if losing the men that cycled in and out of his affiliation pained his heart, losing you would crush it.

this particular day, felix’s greatest fear almost sprung to life.

you ventured outside of the house, wishing only to take a walk around the streets of seoul. your fiancé already left for the day, parting from you with a promise to come back safely. you were left alone — something that usually never bothered you much. today, though, you felt like you were being choked by the looming silence at home. even your attempts to make some noise — playing music, singing loudly off key, everything — proved useless in lessening your restlessness.

hence, you took it upon yourself to relieve yourself from your stir-craziness. you grabbed a small knife, one that could easily be concealed, and a handgun to hide in the band of your jeans. this became a reflex, as felix constantly made you arm yourself before going somewhere. “you need protection, angel. especially when i, or any of my men, can’t be by your side.”

when you stepped into the blazing summer heat, swiftly finding your way to the nearest shopping district, you expected the day to pass smoothly without any bumps.

in retrospect, you should’ve watched your surroundings more closely. the crowded place you found yourself in was “under control” of a gang with a vengeance aimed at felix’s.

it was no secret that the notorious gang leader had a soft spot for you; every gang in seoul took quick notice of this as soon as he rose to take the title of gang leader. you were bookmarked. even when you were unaware of the gang activity surrounding you, rival gangs took it upon themselves to figure out who you were. felix knew this would happen as soon as he ascended to the “throne.” which only solidified his attempts at keeping his two worlds as far apart from each other as he could.

the universe worked against you today, as you found yourself trying to reach home quicker. while you were browsing a small pop-up shop, some men that you’d never been acquainted with had approached you. you knew something was up as they began to circle around you.

you were able to make an escape by shooting a blank into the air. the distance from your house seemed farther than it ever had before as you sprinted away.

by the time you slammed the door of your home behind you, you could barely catch your breath. this was the first actual time members of a rival gang approached you with intentions to hold you hostage. you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t shaken you up.

soon after you arrived home, the click of the front door echoed in your ears as felix walked into your shared space. someone alerted him of the crisis you were briefly part of, which sent the man into a frenzy, leading him to get home as soon as he could. fuck, he knew this was going to happen. he fucking knew.

felix approached you, and he felt his heart twist at your shaking form. “you’re okay, angel?”

you moved your head to stare blankly at your fiancé. “yeah — they got close, kinda. i got outta there though.” the empty laugh that followed your voice made anger and sadness rise up his throat.

“i told you, you would’ve been safer if you left.” he wasn’t lying; felix tried to convince you, on several occasions, to leave him before you got tangled up in his “fucked up life.” you never listened.

“stop saying that. i stayed ‘cause i love you, ‘lix.” your gaze hardened as you continued to look at him. his constant remarks about how you’d be safer without him, frankly, pissed you off. you stayed by his side for a reason.

“am i wrong though, (y/n)? you almost got kidnapped, for crying out loud! who knows how that could’ve ended?” felix’s voice began to gain volume. these arguments always worked him up quickly, and now that something almost happened to you, he couldn’t stop his anger from bubbling out.

“but it didn’t happen, ‘lix! i’m alive! i’m here, i’m breathing, i’m okay!”

“what if it wasn’t okay, (y/n)? what if you got fucking kidnapped and tied up? what if you got tortured because i couldn’t cough up some goddamn money? what if you fucking died before i got to you? what about that?!”

your glance dropped down to see your fiancé’s fists clenched, his fingernails digging into his palms. you reached over to grab one of his fists, putting both of your hands over it as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“that all… that all could’ve happened, sweetheart. anything could’ve happened. but it didn’t. nothing happened.”

“i know you’re scared that, one day, i’m gonna end up being held against you as some sort of ransom. and… i know it can happen. but we’ve been together for how long now, ‘lixie? three years. nothing’s happened.”

you watched as felix’s eyelids fluttered shut, as he exhaled a breath that he — you guessed — wasn’t aware he was holding. when his eyes opened again, meeting your gaze, his demeanor shifted. the man’s shoulders slouched, and his head slightly dropped down. his hands were still in the shape of fists, but his strength was slowly dissipating, leaving his hands to open up limply.

“i’m just scared… i don’t want anything to happen to you.” tears began to sting at your eyes as you took in felix’s broken tone. you lifted the hand you held up to your lips, placing a gentle kiss on the top of it.

“i’ll keep learning how to protect myself. and i won’t let anything happen to me, okay, ‘lixie? i swear, cross my heart.” his eyes moved to look at his hand cradled in yours.

“cross your heart?”

“cross my heart.”

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7-wonders · 5 years

Text

As Above, So Below

Summary: Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Word Count: 2234

A/N: I’m so excited to publish my first multi-chapter story! This is a Michael Langdon AU based off of the Hades/Persephone myth. Feedback is always appreciated, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this first chapter. Enjoy!

The Prince of Hell has a secret.

To be fair, Michael Langdon, the Lord of the Underworld, has many secrets. Those are secrets that he’d be proud to share, ones that would have creatures across all realms cowering at his feet in fear, awe, and envy. If this particular secret was to get out, he would be the laughing-stock of Hell.

Michael Langdon has feelings for a human. He wants to shudder at the mere acknowledgement of that; he’s not supposed to have feelings of happiness, joy, or love. The only happiness he ever feels is when he’s watching the tormented souls of the damned burn in pits. But now, whenever he lays eyes upon this woman, this mortal, he can almost feel his heart start to beat.

It’s ironic, to him, that one of the purest beings he’s ever seen lives next to a Hellmouth. Those who reside on the mortal coil know this particular portal as the Murder House, a structure in which his demons love playing. The house on one side is occupied by dust and rats, the old tenants having moved out when they saw the red skies and flocks of crows. On the other side, a house has been converted to a boarding house occupied by college students. College students are some of the best souls to take as they can be easily persuaded into dangerous situations, which has made for an enjoyable two years for some of his soul collectors working in this area. As far as the neighbors are aware, the so-called “Murder House” is undergoing a very, very long string of renovations.

In all of Michael’s centuries of ruling Hell, he’s seen the Earth change immensely. Civilizations have rose and fallen, wars have been fought, people have been born and people have died. But never has Michael been as captivated by someone as he is by you.

He often wonders what it is that draws him towards you. Is it the bright smile you always seem to have for him and everyone you pass? Could it be your choice of fashion, the pinks and blues and greens that adorn your body, so much different than his usual red and black attire? Your body itself is a whole different story for Michael. He’s seen some of the most beautiful women to ever walk the Earth, and yet they don’t hold a candle towards you.

Michael Langdon can list a million reasons why he thinks that he loves you, which is why he’s hoping that you won’t come to hate him for what he’s about to do. Although the events soon to transpire have long since been prophesied, the idea of prophecies are a very difficult thing for mortals to understand. He stands in front of the ornate mirror, watching as two servants finish dressing him. They’ve decided on his finest cloak for this occasion, beautiful silver fastenings keeping it up around his neck. A simple black suit with a red tie accompanies a swipe of red powder on the inner corners of his eyelids.

“Sire, are you sure that there’s no easier way to go about this?” Hecate, or Madison, as she preferred to go by nowadays, asks from the doorway. Michael glances at his most trusted advisor and longtime friend, shooing the servants away.

“Trust me, I’ve been trying to think of other ways. I just can’t see her believing that I’m the God of the dead without thinking I’m a crazy person. I need to show her.” Madison rolls her eyes, stalking over to Michael to redo his crooked tie.

“Just promise me that you won’t immediately resort to kidnapping a human woman and dragging her down here?” Michael shoots the woman a playful glare, batting her hands off of his tie.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a mean person.” Madison snorts at this, giving him one last glance before deeming him ready.

“Alright, Mr. Nice-Guy, you’re ready.” Michael’s palms break into a sweat, which he didn’t even know was possible until now. Letting out two sharp whistles, he waits for the sound of paws bounding down the hall. Cerberus, the three-headed hellhound, tramples into the room and immediately sits, tail wagging behind him.

“You wanna go up above, buddy?” Michael rewards the dog with a pet on each of its’ heads when he starts joyfully barking.

“Ugh, you’re taking the mutt? That’ll impress her.” Madison scoffs, watching as Michael puts a glamour on the dog. Suddenly, the once-huge beast is now the size of a normal labrador, complete with one head instead of three.

“(Y/N) likes dogs, and she’s met Cerberus multiple times.” When Michael turns his back, he hears what sounds like Madison coughing the word ‘whipped.’ He stiffens, but doesn’t turn around to take the bait. “You’re lucky I’m going to need you, or else I’d throw you in the ninth circle.” It’s an empty threat and they both know it. He and Cerberus make their way to the front of the palace, where there’s already a realm guard waiting to take the king to Earth.

“Good luck. You’re gonna need it with those looks!” Madison takes one last shot. Right before Michael’s form disappears, he flips off the delighted goddess.

You’re sitting under the shade of the large oak tree in the front yard, humming softly and working on some homework, when barking makes you look up. A grin crosses your face when a large dog comes bounding out of the house next door, chasing a red bouncy ball. When the dog sees you, he immediately abandons his toy and charges towards you. Homework is suddenly forgotten when a giant mass of fur and slobber lands on top of you.

“Well, hello there Cerberus!” The dog sits next to you, nudging his head against your chin in an attempt to get petted. “Oh I know, it must be so rough being such a cute dog.” You oblige, gladly scratching behind his ear.

“At least I don’t ever have to worry about him going too far when you’re out here.” You look up to see the man whose beauty rivals the sun. Michael, from what you’ve deduced, owns the house next door and is often over there performing renovations himself. You smile shyly, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Be careful or else I might not let him leave next time.” You joke. You can’t help but to take note of his runway-like attire, putting your plain blue jeans and pink blouse to shame. “How do you renovate a house in a cloak, exactly?” Michael looks down, as if noticing for the first time how overdressed he is.

“I’m actually on my way to some business meetings. I had just stopped by to check on the new paint samples.”

“You seem to be making good progress on the house. Just last week it was new floors, right?” Michael nods, glancing from your face to the house.

“Would you like to take a look around? There’s been a lot of changes since the last time you snooped around inside.” Your face goes red at this. It had been a week after you first moved in with your new roommates. As a lover of the paranormal, it was basically impossible for you to not visit the infamous Murder House. When you had met Michael the following day, he mentioned that it was a delight to watch you ghost hunt through the security cameras, causing you to try and avoid him as much as possible until the embarrassment died down.

“I thought the house was abandoned!” You make your case, taking Michael’s outstretched arm. “You’re always so proper, y’know?”

“How so?”

“I’ve never met a guy who wears cloaks and escorts women like he’s going to a gala, that’s all.”

“I haven’t noticed that. I was just raised in a different time, I suppose.” You laugh.

“‘Raised in a different time?’ Michael, you can’t be more than five years older than me.” He raises an eyebrow, almost challenging you.

“Five years is quite a difference.” He jokes. Grabbing the key from one of his pockets, he unlocks the door and swings it open with a flourish. “Have a look.”

The house really has changed since the last time you were here. Gone are the creepy murals with people dying, the mosaic windows and the wooden panelling straight out of the ‘70s. Now, the interior is clean, with wide windows, a stone fireplace and dark wood floors.

“Oh, it’s beautiful.” You say in awe, taking in every inch of the beautiful house. “Think you’ll finally be able to sell it?”

“I’ve actually become rather attached to this house.” Michael admits from the living room, where he’s glancing over some paperwork. Cerberus has settled on a rug, deciding now’s a good time for a nap. “I kind of want to keep it.”

“I don’t blame you.” An impish grin spreads on your face. “The ghosts haven’t scared you off?” Michael groans, playfully rolling his eyes.

“I should have known you would ask about the supposed ghosts that haunt these halls.”

“You’re telling me that with all of the knocking down walls and changing the floorplan of this place that you haven’t disturbed one of the souls that died here?” Michael has always been adamant that this is a perfectly normal house, albeit with a sordid history. “Just money-hungry people making up stories to get their fifteen minutes of fame,” he’s always responded to your questions.

“I don’t believe in ghosts, (Y/N). Maybe they just don’t believe in me, either.” He deadpans.

“Wow, you ever thought about motivational speaking?” You say sarcastically. “Did the city ever come to take away those weird jars with the body parts that Dr. Montgomery left here?” Dr. Montgomery, the ‘doctor to the stars’ in the ‘30s, ran a secret basement abortion clinic, where he also supposedly experimented with reanimation. It was gross, morbid, and a subject you were totally interested in.

“They did. We actually just started on the basement. I’m pretty sure we got all of the creepy stuff removed, but if you want you can help me sort through the items previous owners have left here.” Your eyes light up at this. Getting to look through antiques that each had their own story is extremely enticing. Michael, having already seen the gleam in your eyes, makes his way to the basement steps with his usual hands-behind-his-back gait.

The walk down to the basement is decidedly more creepy than the rest of the house. You’re not sure if it’s the general spookiness of basements or all of the illegal abortions performed down here, but you can feel a dark aura in the cavernous room. There’s an old claw-foot bathtub under one window, a couple of empty shelves, and a rocking chair that you swear is moving on its own.

“Oh jeez.” You whisper.

“Too scary for you?” A voice says in your ear. You jump, spinning and hitting Michael on the shoulder.

“You asshole! You’re lucky I didn’t punch you in the nose.” He looks entirely unimpressed at this, but you pretend to cock a fist anyways.

“Hmm, maybe next time. Most of the good stuff I’ve found is in this room.” Michael takes your shoulders and steers you towards a closed door at the opposite end of the basement. You’re not sure why, but a sense of dread fills you the closer you get to the door.

“Michael, I think I need to get going.” You say quietly, the dread increasing. You try to maneuver out of his grasp, but his grip on you only tightens.

“Just a little look, and then you can go.” Without anyone touching it, the door opens. Wind whips around you, a smell of- is that brimstone?- fills the air, and you can hear screaming from miles down. A cavernous pit stares back at you, its mouth wide and welcoming. You shriek and elbow Michael in the stomach.

He doubles over in pain, allowing you your chance. You sprint for the stairs, tripping over Cerberus, who’s not sure why you’re yelling. You yelp when your palms scrape across the rough wood, ripping open the top layer of skin. There’s no time to waste, so you haul yourself back up and try to remember the way to the front door.

“Help, he’s going to kill me!” You scream, hoping that one of your roommates will hear your calls and save you. The open front door slams shut when you’re mere feet away, startling you. A pair of strong arms wraps around you, picking you up like you weigh nothing and hauling you back downstairs. Michael ignores your screams completely, even trying to hush you.

“Michael, please don’t kill me. Just let me leave and I won’t tell anyone.” You mutter, twisting in his arms to look at his face. He smiles softly down at you, wiping the tears away from your face.

“I’m not going to kill you, (Y/N). I’m sorry it had to happen this way, but I promise I’ll explain everything when we get home.” The wind is howling, your hair getting caught in Michael’s face. You don’t have time to question what he’s saying before he takes a graceful step over the edge of the pit, both of you falling down below.

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader #Michael Langdon x you #ahs #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #American horror story apocalypse #Michael Langdon au

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cxttonteethviolence-a · 4 years

Text

Please Read || “Tali”

If you have been here for a while, then you know that Wyatt has been a Silent Hill O.C. for some years now. However, as the Silent Hill fandom has gradually died off of Tumblr, plus with my interest in creating an original work around Wyatt, I have changed several things from his story, to his personality, to the NPC’s of his life. I’ll have all of the updated information on Wyatt’s new page -- as I very slowly work on finishing it, but for now, I’ll make posts here to keep everyone updated on how Wyatt has changed.

tw: sexual assault || child abuse

Before:

As a Silent Hill O.C., Wyatt grew up as a relatively normal kid, short of some slight neglect and abuse from his step-father -- of which, he thinks is his birth father at this time, until he was 14 and met a young man 3 years older than him by name of Kyle. Rather gullible in his youth, Kyle gained Wyatt’s trust easily, and within a couple of months, Kyle was able to use Wyatt for blood ritual with him none the wiser. What Wyatt was unaware of was that Kyle was his half-brother, and more, part of a sect of The Order known as ‘The Disciples of our Holy Mother’ that had migrated to Texas two hundred years prior, and was attempting to use the blood of his unbaptized brother to bastardize the works of God for his own gain. This backfired, however, as the ritual instead summoned the first martyred Saint, St. Jennifer, to inhabit part of Wyatt’s soul and body, which lead to Wyatt experiencing a complete physical and violent bodily possession, resulting in the death of his father and crippling of his mother. For the rest of his life, Wyatt must share his body with the presence of St. Jennifer who, with the power of foresight, pyrokinesis, astral projection, and a direct link to God Herself, goes through periods of activity and regression, depending on Wyatt’s proximity to God’s power.

Now:

As an original muse, Wyatt’s treatment from his step-father is a little harsher than in his Silent Hill verse. Though the knowledge that Dean Maverick isn’t actually his father is not known to any of the Maverick children, it is clear that Wyatt is the black sheep of their father’s love.

The product of an affair, Wyatt is the blood son to Sheriff Mark Kibson, who is not only a sheriff, but also the leader to a centuries old religion that Dakota Maverick herself had once practiced, but had since rejected for her husband’s Christian worship. They had been childhood sweethearts, and with one too many cocktails, they found themselves in bed together, creating what would be the end for the both of them.

Unwittingly, Dakota Maverick had her pregnancy test done in the same office where other practitioners of her former religion worked, overheard her confessing who the real father was, and would actively work against her for their own benefit. Meant to be kept a secret, the biological father was instead contacted by a Dr. Vinny Belle, who wanted to make alliances. Dr. Vinny Belle, a lifelong practitioner of the Witchgod Faith, was expected to have a daughter in the next couple of months, and with the Kibson bloodline being direct lineage to that of the Cassandra Cavelier, one the Founding Sisters, Dr. Belle hoped that he could trade the foreknowledge of Sheriff Kibson’s future child in exchange for a blood bond between their children, should the child be born a boy.

Sheriff Kibson refused, choosing instead to keep the birth of this illegitimate child separate from the rest of his family. Months passed, and as soon as Wyatt was born, Dr. Belle ended up performing the bonding ritual anyways, promising the intertwining of their children to their Witchgod once they were both old enough. Dr. Belle and his wife had planned to keep their daughter around the same vicinity as Wyatt and his family, but before they could, Dakota was informed of this plan by a former friend from the Faith, and she put an end to it, threatening to tell the Sheriff everything if they ever came close to her son. With the Sheriff being a man to be feared, the threat worked.

Wyatt Maverick and Susan Belle never met each other, however, they both experienced what would be written off as an imaginary friend, seeing glimpses of each other as they grew up. Wyatt would call his imaginary friend “Tali”. He would see her playing with blocks, coloring, doing homework, brushing her teeth, crying, anything and everything, Wyatt would catch shadow mist glimpses of this young girl who always seemed to mirror his own age. It would often become a daily activity for his sisters, assuming this was just a years-long game of pretend, to ask him: “What’s Tali doing today?”, and he would tell them. As they grew older, they’d stop asking, and Wyatt would stop talking about her, but she never went away.

At 14, the visions of Tali stopped being friendly. Once simply a part of every day life, the appearance of Tali was now saved for his nightmares, often bringing with her a horrible sense of dread, terror, and the smell of burnt flesh. During the day, she would notice him, where they’d never crossed paths before. Too afraid to speak of this shift in his consciousness, Wyatt does not speak of it to anyone.

It’s not until Wyatt is 28 years old that Wyatt finds out the truth of “Tali”. At 14, “Tali” is Susan Belle, and her parents have just informed her that she is spiritually betrothed to Wyatt Kibson, but that no one is allowed to know the truth until the time is right. Having been raised in the Faith, Susan is excited for the marriage, and feels honored to have been chosen for a Son of Cassandra. She knows she can’t tell just anyone, but feels as though she can trust one of her best friends, who has also been raised in the faith. Unfortunately, this information gets back to the most dangerous of the Kibson line, Sheriff Kibson’s third son, Kyle Kibson, who takes vigilante action against the Belle family.

Kyle was unaware of his youngest sibling, and feeling betrayed by his father’s secrecy, took his anger out on Susan and Wyatt. By 17, Kyle had already committed multiple accounts of sexual assault, assault, theft, and trespassing, all deflecting legal action with the connections of his father. He did incur extreme levels of physical punishments for his actions by the hands of his father, but this only ever made him better at covering up his tracks.

With Susan, Kyle kidnapped the poor girl, drugging her and taking her to an old, abandoned gas station a few miles out from his family’s farm. There, he used her to practice ritual magic, torturing her with the original methods used by the founders of their Witchgod Faith. Though he did not kill Susan, Kyle did rape and torture the young girl before informing his father of the Belle family plan.

Infuriated by not only the deceit of his brethren of Faith, but also through the actions of his son, Sheriff Kibson took no mercy in his decision to immolate the entire Belle line. Susan’s death was quick and painless, opting to shoot her in the head, as she had done nothing wrong, but her parents would be taken to the Kibson Farm where they would be burnt alive and fed to the pigs for feed. Susan was buried an unmarked grave, and the disappearance of the Belle family was an open and shut case.

Kyle was beaten, arguably, within an inch of his life and forced through surgical castration, where it was then assumed that he would learn to stay in line and lose his violent urges. But once again, this only made him better at hiding them.

From ages 14 to 28, Wyatt sees Tali as a ghost-like figure; rotting, mangled, and always part of the shadows. She still always seems to mirror his age, and always manages to find her way to the corner of his eye. He is misdiagnosed as “paranoid schizophrenic”, and for the most part, does not question that validity. From 28-32, Wyatt learns the truth of Susan Bell, and his visions of her shift to what she would have looked like alive. He finally believes in her presence, and that belief strengthens the energy around her, giving conscious thought to what’s left of her. She helps him uncover and dismantle the truth of his family, aiding him in killing Kyle.

#headcanon;;#so this is suuuuuper long #but also super important if you care about wyatt's backstory and his switch from silent hill to original content #will there be similarities? of course there will be #i'm wring the content i want to consume #but i think it's different enough that it won't be an outright copycat #also i would just really really appreciate if anyone reads this #tali;;

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