#gonna sign off with murder suicide from now on
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Introduction!!
Yandere Ghost x Reader
CW// Suicidal Thoughts, Paranormal Activity, Murder Mention
My other yand OC Maddox was a hit with ya’ll so here’s a short introduction of a new oc!! Hope you like him as much as I do. This is gonna be very boring because it’s an introduction but I’ll make a oneshot right after this one!!
Masterlist!!
“This key unlocks every door in the manor. Except the door to the attic for some reason, but there’s nothing of importance up there. Apparently it’s just some old junk the first owner left.” The agent said with a tight lipped smile. Her matte red lipstick was as bright as a stop sign.
Taking the key from her hand you’re surprised to feel how heavy it is. “Thank you.” You mutter.
“All the legalities are settled so she’s all yours. I recommend blasting that ivy off the side wall of the house though. The roots can mess up the brick.” The agent adds.
“Alright, I appreciate the tip.” You say and shut the door in her face, leaving you alone in your new home.
Maria was a total pain in the ass, like all people who work with selling things. Oh and for the record, you like the ivy that grows on the side of your new home. Makes it look pretty and natural. Anyways, her being gone was like a breath of fresh air. All was good now that you finally had a place to call home.
Your Grandfather died and in the will he left you his summer home in Italy. It was a grand manor that was located on a hilltop surrounded by forrest. It was perfect for your hermit self. Never in your life would you imagine leaving the states to come live in Italy but here you were. After all the manor was handed to you on a silver platter, the offer would be foolish to refuse.
There was nothing for you in the states. Your life was miserable, draining, and filled with nothing but painful repetition. Being worked like a machine and stepped on like a doormat. Having a horrid and overly possessive ex boyfriend who was a serial cheater didn’t help either. You were so close to ending your miserable existence until a woman named Maria gave you a call.
And now you were here, standing in the foyer of your new home. Some work would need to be done. Floors needed polishing, corners dusting, windows wiping. Maybe you should make a checklist?
"This is gonna be a long day.." You think to yourself.
"There she is again. She must be the new owner." I think to myself as I watch the young woman clean the floor.
The past owner, Lorenzo, must have passed away and put the ownership of the manor into this girl's hands. It has been a while since I’ve seen the old man. But did he have to put my home in the hands of some uncultured American? I find this terribly irresponsible of him, I mean look at her!
She's using a bleach based product on the hardwood! Lorenzo was a good owner of the Verona manor. He hired staff to keep it well maintained and he rarely ever visited. But this girl... she's an utter buffoon. Before she can torture the hardwood any longer I swiftly hover behind her and move the bottle a few feet away from her while she isn't looking.
"Huh?" When she reaches for the bottle she finds it has moved away. I snicker at her confused reaction.
"It was just right here..."
She reaches over and grabs it again but before she does I kick it, sending it flying across the foyer and hitting the front door.
“Any minute now she’ll run away screaming, she won’t even look back.” I think to myself with a devious grin.
But when I hover in front of her I only see an annoyed expression on her face.
“Uhm… Did I do something wrong?” She says.
I freeze, is she not afraid? Why was she talking as if she were talking to someone? Can she see me?
“I asked if I did something to upset you.”
And then her eyes move up and look right into mine. For the first time in centuries I feel as if I have ignited, that I am alive and that my heart once again beats like all other human beings.
“You… Can you see me?” I ask hesitantly, afraid that if I may speak too loudly she’ll scamper away like a mouse.
Her soft lips part slightly as she nods.
He told me his name was Dante Verona. He was the original owner of the Verona manor and he comes from an Italian royal family. But he was assassinated centuries ago in this very manor during a masquerade party. So I assume that his spirit is trapped here. He was wearing an intricate black, red, and white Venetian mask that hid his face. He wore matching black and red noble attire and his hair was a curly dark chocolate brown that went down to his neck.
Overall he was a total mystery. His entire existence was perplexing to me. Yes I do believe in the paranormal but never would I think I’d meet a real life ghost.
“I assume your grand father is Lorenzo? Has he passed on?” Dante asks, cutting through the thick silence.
I blink a few times, maybe if I blink hard enough he’ll disappear and that’ll confirm that this was all just my imagination. So I blink, but Dante’s translucent self is still hovering in front of me. The blank expression of his mask makes me slightly uneasy. I couldn’t get a read on the guy at all.
Coughing, I finally answer, “Uhm yeah… He was my grand father. He left me this manor in his will. And he didn’t mention any ghosts or anything like that.” I add.
“Lorenzo couldn’t see me. You’re the first to see me actually.” Dante says. His voice sounded smooth but the mask muffled it slightly. But he also sounded like he was in pain. I wonder how long he’s been here, trapped in this manor.
“So this whole time you were all alone?”
“Yes.” He softly replies. “Just me. Only my spirit is here.”
“That must be hard.” I say, but not in a pitying sounding way. The last thing he wants is pity probably.
Dante hovers away and I follow him into the living room. Looking up I see him hover up to the chandelier. He looks down at me, I can see his dark green irises through the black holes of the mask.
“Every day is hard. God has cursed me, rejected my entry into the heavens.” His voice cracks. "My death occurred in the very room we are in."
I look around the oriental room we are in. It has been modernized over the years, but I can imagine how it looked in his century. The masked party people, music, drinks, lies and deception. All of it in the room we are in but centuries before.
"My killer has not been found but I know they are long dead. Knowing that they burn in hell brings me peace. And I have learned to accept that I am to remain here.”
Then he rambles on about his life story. The tragedies he lived through, the friends he made and lost, wars and battles faced, and lovers went and gone. But I don't mind that this conversation is one sided. He has had no one to talk to for centuries so he deserves a listener.
"I apologize my lady. I have droned on for far too long. It's impolite..." Dante says in a dejected tone. But I reassure him.
"Y-You're okay! I understand. You haven't had someone to talk to in a long time I imagine. Besides, I found your life story very interesting."
Dante hovers down to where I'm sat on the couch. He also sits beside me. Leaning in close he tilts his masked face to the side as he comes closer to mine. I move away slightly; his body emits an eerie chill.
"Tell me about you. What is your name?" He asks, his eyes twinkle with an emotion unknown to me.
"I'm Y/n L/n. I originally lived in the United States, but I moved here as you know." I mutter. I've never been one to talk a lot anyways.
Dante looks me up and down. His fingers reach out causing me to flinch back, but he goes to touch the fabric of my black dress rather than my skin. To my surprise his fingers can touch the fabric, they don’t phase through it.
"Why do you wear black? Are you a widow? Has your husband passed on?" He asks softly.
I feel myself giggle slightly and he looks up at me with probably a confused expression.
"I've never been married silly, I'm only 23 years old.”
Dante’s emerald eyes widen. “23 and unmarried? Has the societal norm changed? Because my sister was married off to her husband when she was 16.”
I cringe physically. “Oooh yeah, lots of things have changed. But also I’m wearing black because it’s just my style. It’s called goth, it’s a music based style. I can tell you about it sometime.”
Dante looks at me like I’ve grown three heads. I can see it in his eyes.
“Ahem- Anyways. Why do you wear that mask?” I ask.
Dante breaks the eye contact and looks down at the side. “It does not come off. No matter how hard I try to remove it, it only stays. I cannot remove the clothing either.”
I nod. “Is it because it was the last thing you wore before you died?”
He nods in return.
“I assume so.”
He moves closer to me ever so slightly. His gloved hands caress my h/c locks of hair and then he brushes his fingers across my cheeks and jawline.
“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly.
Dante’s hooded eyes shine with an emotion I cannot read. But I feel like my life from this day forward will never be the same. Can the living and the dead co exist?
Dante Verona. Will we be able to share the same roof?
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#x reader#yandere imagines#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#obsession#yandere ghost x reader#yandere ghost#dante verona
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Ethan Landry - Perverted 3
lets ignore how the last chapter i posted was in july and pretend that im a consistent writer please:3 anyways i hope everyone enjoys this because it took me so long to figure out what i wanted to do for it. if you havent read part 2 i suggest you do that for this to make sense
Word count: 2269
TW: knives, blood, murder, suicide
“Oh my god,” Your heart dropped as you realized the killing had connections to ghostface, after last night you wanted to believe it wouldn’t get this bad. Ethan squeezed your hand softly, attempting to break your attention away from the news channel. His efforts were in vain as your own mind swelled with an endless amount of thoughts and emotions. Did Ethan purposefully intend to make you swoon in order to get closer to the group? Who was the other Ghostface? Why now did the killings start when things had finally seemed normal? The room had broken off into conversations between each other, trying to figure out how they wanted to handle it. You on the other hand remain in shambles, shaking in Ethan’s arms as he pulls you back into your room.
A silence fell upon you both, there were no words to be offered in a situation like this. Sure he could try and comfort you like you hadn’t already known he was a killer and you could try and pretend you didn’t catch him leaving the scene of a crime. No matter what you two did, reality was inevitable, Ethan was a cold blooded killer and you were a potential victim falling in love with him. Nothing now could change it, prevent it, or create a path to a life in which you two live happily ever after. The facts were plain and simple, a bright red sign flashing right in front of your eyes, still you chose to ignore it. Today was supposed to be nice, you’d finally given into Ethan but to everyone else you’d won over the quiet nerd. It wasn’t until you felt Ethan’s hands cup your face gently that you’d snapped back to reality.
“I swear it wa-“
“Of course it wasn’t you but… you know who did it don’t you?”
“…”
“I thought so-“
“I’m sorry-“
“No-“
“I am I didn’t know they were gonna do it tonight I swear I-“
“No, no, no- Ethan you’re not!”
It was quiet again after your slight outburst, it didn’t anger him but then again, did he even have the right? His hands stayed glued to his lap while he watched you go through the motions in silence. He wanted so badly to know what you were thinking, did you hate him? Have you ever hated him? Would you hate him now? You didn’t even have an answer, you wished you did but the feelings flowing through your body were indescribable. You wanted to hate him, you wanted to tell everyone he was one of the killers, maybe then it would end with no more death. What you wanted and what you’d decided before you even knew you had was set in stone. You wouldn’t say anything, ever, to anyone. If they found out you would say you didn’t know but, you didn’t want your friends to get hurt. Ethan knew this, he’d wanted to sympathize and stop everything once he’d truly begun to like you but, of course he couldn’t.
“Please- just listen to me before you hate me for the rest of eternity.” The bed shifted quietly when he tried to meet your clouded gaze but it was to no avail. Swiftly he’d kneeled on the floor, his body shoving your legs apart giving you no choice but to stare into his eyes. The same brown eyes that had instilled fear into your soul when you were hiding in the alley, that had made you blush and stutter. The same eyes that had seen you so vulnerable and raw and held the same adoration you’d once felt; before you’d discovered his little hobby.
“I wanted to stop it but they wouldn’t let me, I’m outnumbered. It's plain and simple. Even if we tried to run away from all of this and salvage whatever this is, chances are they’d come for us if they finish the job. I don’t want anything to happen to you I-“
“But you want to kill the only people who’ve ever really been my family in exchange for what? Fame? Plot? Fun?”
“Revenge.”
A knock came from the door abruptly ending the much needed conversation. Tara opened the door softly, explaining that Quinn had called her Dad for information on the Ghostface killing that was undoubtedly connected to the group. Ethan had sat on the floor in front of you while she relayed the order of events. Eventually she left, saying that they’d be going to the station to answer some questions which were pretty standard by now. You’d offered to accompany the sisters but they decided it was best to handle it alone. The entire group dispersed, breaking off into pairs and trying to grasp onto the slight normalcy that remained. Ethan had convinced you to follow him to an unknown location, claiming that he would explain everything once you’d gotten there. Of course you were concerned with the sudden idea of being alone with him but you still tried to have some sort of trust.
“I… I know that this is all going so fast and happening so sudden but, I need you to know all the facts before-“
“Before what, Ethan?” He slowed to a stop when you interjected, you sounded so drained and defeated and it hurt to know he was the reason. He could try and tell you it wasn’t his fault and that he had no part in it but he did, no matter how badly he wanted to make you happy.
“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, trying to comprehend why Ethan would bring you into an abandoned theater. Sure it fit pretty well for his alter ego, it makes sense considering he wanted to explain everything. At this point you’d wanted nothing more than to leave rather than bare witness to what horrors could be lying within the old theater. Of course you were right, you’d wish you hadn’t seen it, the dedication to the series of Ghostface murders. Actual evidence encapsulated in glass boxes, clothing placed on mannequins, drawings of victims and killers next to each of their own murders. Ethan walked you down to the end, it was right next to the original Ghostface killer’s display. Your necklace, gifted to you by someone you’ve held dear to your heart, was laying in one of the display boxes. Alongside it were hand drawn pictures of you and the group, and a singular box seemingly a tribute to Dewy. Your necklace had been snatched off your neck the first time you had been attacked, Amber had always admired it. The natural formed ruby was an heirloom, before your childhood friend had committed suicide she’d gifted it to you on your 16th birthday.
“My brother was obsessed with the murders, obsessed with the concept of a horror movie being real. He’d always make short films, stories, chapters to a book that he could never finish. Richie was fucked up but he was the only person who took care of me, you have to understand that Sam took the only comfort-“
“No Ethan, he’s not your only comfort at least not anymore- Ethan you have an entire life to lead. Richie made his decision, based on a wild fixation to someone else’s tragedy.”
“Wouldn’t you protect your loved ones? Would you not kill to protect that precious group you call family? That’s what I’m doing, that’s what Richie is to me, don’t you understand this is to avenge him-“
“He killed people for fun and when he was killed it ended the meaningless game he was playing. Don’t you understand the way he’s influenced you into thinking what he did was right?” Silence, anxiety, anticipation and the sound of heavy breathing separated you two. Ethan seemed to be contemplating his next moves whereas your eyes trained on the mended necklace lying on the table. It would’ve brought you to tears being reunited with the priceless gift if not for the conversation he’d initiated.
“My family was always so focused on Rich, trying to get him to be a normal kid and dealing with his problems at school. Quinn was exactly like she is now and the only girl so you can imagine what little that left me. Even through all of that he made sure I felt seen, if not by anyone else, by him.” Ethan spoke as if he already accepted the fact you’d never be able to agree with him, and he knew better than to argue. He reached into his pocket and slipped a glove over his hand before reaching over the glass box. Sliding the lip over just enough to pick up the ruby necklace before closing it back up.
“Dad got most of this stuff but Richie took this from Amber and gave it to Quinn as a last minute gift. Amber was the one who snatched it off you but I’m sure you figured that out. I fixed it without question but it feels wrong not giving it back to you.” It hung off his fingers, holding it in front of your face with what seemed like no more life in his eyes. With a small sigh you grabbed it by the roughly shaped ruby, he dropped the chain and stood silently as you admired the seamless fix. A mistake in hindsight because by then he’d placed his other glove on, slamming your head against the glass table. Thankful it was thick enough to prevent it from breaking upon impact, much less could be said about you.
Tears filled your eyes as you wailed from the pain in your temple, your legs barely holding the rest of your weight as he pushed down on you. Then it clicked, he was leaning his entire body onto you, his knife was pointed into stomach.
“I just wanted you to be able to understand the purpose of everything. You are so fucking stubborn, I don’t want to do this but I can’t let them live with his blood on their hands.”
“So you’re going to kill the one person who was willing to look past your little hobby instead of leaving your past behind? Ethan you are being fucking used-“
“No I’m not! I loved Richie, he wasn’t perfect but he treated me better than anyone-“
“Anyone? So fuck me and kill me that’s fucking bullshit, I should’ve known better than to be stupid enough to get involved with you!” Your sobs rattled your entire body, it was hard to even differentiate between his tears and yours. From where he was his tears fell onto your cheek, mixing with your own on the table. It pained him to even speak to you like this, to inflict so much fear and suffering onto you because you were right. You were trying to love him, trying to look past his faults, trying to have a normal life with him. Ethan seemed to only sabotage his own happiness especially now when he’s hurting the last person that’d be willing to love him the way he wanted.
“It’s-It’s not like that I love you-“
“Don’t say that while your knife is digging into my body you sick fuck.” Disappointment could only be heard in your cries, disappointment in both Ethan and yourself.
“Oh but it was different last night you stupid bitch!” His hand pushed your head harder into the glass, beginning to crack under the pressure. A complete 180 from the sniffling boy he was half a second ago, it terrified you despite it being one of the things that had lured you in.
“You’re such a petty asshole, I bet I was the only girl who even gave you the time of day.” Laughing in his face was his breaking point, grabbing you by the hair and tossing you onto the floor in front him. Pain riddled your spine and it was then you felt the thin wound on your abdomen. Bittersweet as the hand he’d slashed at the night before covered the leaking cut. Just as fast as he’d thrown you he was on top of you, pinning your arms down with his knees.
“Why can’t you just accept their fate? We can be together happily, alone, in peace once it’s all over. Please I’m begging you my love, don’t make me do this I don’t want to!” His face was red and wet with the rush of tears spewing from his eyes, his knife pointed at your throat while he pleaded with you. It sounded so sweet and tempting as he always was, your little obsession being your own demise was all too perfect. You knew what your choice was so you turned your head, searching for the necklace he’d lured in with. With the ruby being in sight you felt calm, at ease with your end, it felt that if anything, at the very least you’d be with your friend once more.
“Fucking kill me already you piece of shit, lowsy excuse of a man!”
The next morning everyone was convinced it was you, after not returning to the dorm it was easy to pin it to you. Yet here the group was, following Gale into an abandoned theater, stumbling upon your lifeless corpse leaned against the stage. Blood pooled around you, sourced from your throat which had been slit open. However the silver chain shown clearly under the stage lights, with ruby barely noticeable amongst the crimson liquid. Ethan in shambles crawles next to you, cradling your cold body and rocking back and forth begging for you to wake up.
The End :D I hopes you liked this small series and please don’t be shy, leave requests for any of the characters in my masterlist or horror movie franchises as I’d love to do more with the horror genre. I simply wrote the first one based off a song so it was very difficult for me to turn it into the miniseries but i promise i did my best and i hope you liked the ending<3
@hana-1235
@i-do-be-vibinn
@meh-karma
@cumbermovels
@acornacreacure
@c0untryclub
#Spotify#ghostface x reader#ethan landry#ethan landry smut#ghostface ethan#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x y/n#ghostface scream#ghostface x you#ghostface smut#D3M0NT0N1C#demontonic
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Should have read that detour sign
Word Count: ~2,000
Warnings: Suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, murder-suicide, graphic depictions and descriptions of domestic abuse, period typical attitudes towards women, child neglect, very dark themes.
This fic was beta read by nov!
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Drayton mentions his woes, casual as he can manage, while hanging the linens over the clothesline.
“Babies are sick again, Mama.”
She’d just bothered showing her face to the world after another bender last night. Normally he’d be making as much noise in the house as he could to get the bitch up and help him some. But those babies are in there resting and recovering today, so he took to doin’ the laundry outside. It could’ve been a nice day to lay the babies in the grass and let ‘em crawl and explore on their bellies, if not for their fevers.
Even with Drayton taking extra special care of those kids, Mama don’t seem all that concerned. Her dull stare is almost scathing, “You do what I told you?”
Right. All her bullshit ‘stop whining’ remedies that didn’t do nothing. He scoffs, “A salt water bath ain’t gonna fix this’n.”
Back talkin’ ain’t a good enough answer for her, “But did you try it, Drayton?”
Something about not being listened to lights the fuse at the end of his temper. Against his better judgement, he snaps at her, “Of fucking ‘course I did! Past three days I tried it! And it ain’t helped!”
“Watch your language.” Mama scolds automatically.
His next response sort of just tumbles out of his big mouth just as quick, “Right. ‘Cause that’s what’s important right now.”
That earns him a thwack. Mama’s long, ringed fingers crack against the back of his skull hard enough his eyes go fuzzy.
“Drayton Sawyer hold your tongue, damn it!”
No tears. No whining. He swallows it down. He’s grown now, damn it. Raising up two little boys like they’s his own. Can’t teach them the cowardice he’s always had in his bruised heart.
Mama hasn’t even named the boys yet. Seven weeks old and they got no names, just in case’n they don’t get better. But what the hell would she know about better, if she don’t ever even hold ‘em?
Drayton’s voice is tense and tight, but he don’t let it waver.
“Mama. Have you checked on them once today?”
His insistence finally gets her somewhat interested. Probably not worried though. She at least backs off just a little from her anger, “They alright?”
“I told you already they aren’t.” Drayton sort of mumbles so it isn’t immediately registered that he’s still pissed. No sense in getting himself hit any more.
Mama at least looks guilty. It’s just for the smallest second, that her deep brown eyes flit towards the house, clearly thinking about the little boys inside. About how to help ‘em.
Doesn’t last long. ‘Cause then she’s looking to Drayton, expecting him to fix her mess like always.
She declares, like she’s all proud of it, “You’ll find a way to take care of it.”
Drayton feels the bitter scowl on his own face even though he don’t wanna show it. Might as well lean into it. Calm like, he takes a few steps towards the door, calling over his shoulder at Mama, “Alright, maybe I’ll ask grandpa.”
The very same grandpa that drank himself into a catatonia now, used to be one mean sonuva bitch. Drayton could mess up once as a kid and fists would start flying. If it weren’t Mama and her claws, it’ve been grandpa and his hatred. His evil. His steel toed boots and warped knuckles.
That man would never even hold the boys, not in the state he’s in, half out his mind in a rocking chair all the day long. But the threat, and what it means, is enough.
Mama grabs him by the arm and digs those nails in. Drayton lets her pull him, never having any intention of actually bothering the old asshole.
“Don’t you dare.” She spits.
“What, it ain’t right to hit on your kids now?” Drayton acts like he don’t know exactly what he’s doing.
But it backfires.
Mama is fierce. Vicious. Boy had to learn it from somewhere, after all.
“Not those babies. They don’t deserve it.”
So he did. She hated him from the start. Even before he grew up ugly and mean and half-an-idiot, she didn’t want nothing to do with him. To this day he’s nothing more than her damn maid. It’s do it or face the consequences, and get nothin’ at all in return.
Frustration boils until it’s more akin to rage, the kind he can’t just push under the surface.
“Why’s that, mama? They too fragile? Too sick? Maybe they should see a goddamn doctor then!”
His ribs are certainly fragile after being broke so many times. Every day his back hurts. Hands shake. Something ain’t right anymore in Drayton’s body because of being beat so bad all his life.
He gets another slap right across the face, hard enough to turn his head full. Mama’s tidy nails catch his skin and leave a cut rifht under his eye. One singular tear of his blood rolls down and drips to the collar of his shirt.
Can’t have that now, can’t go leavin’ the evidence in plain sight. Drayton uses his sleeve to wipe it away. Blood and motor oil don’t look too differently. Nobody’ll know a thing. If they do, well, that Drayton Sawyer has always been no good. Probably deserved it.
Oh but just you ask Mama, and that ain’t her fault.
She seethes, “I know how to raise my children.”
The next thing Drayton thinks doesn’t even need to be said for it to sit heavy in the air. His face must show his skepticism.
Mama don’t like that. Somehow she can read his mind and know exactly what he’s thinkin’ of. She scolds him for it, “Don’t you give me that look, Drayton! I have to provide, don’t I?”
“Walking the streets and providing are two very different things, woman.”
Drayton don’t usually talk about mama’s type of business. The oldest profession, one unfit for a mother who had no right to ever leave behind her own dying babies.
Never home, and when she does coming back random hours of the night, doin’ all kinds of drugs and remedies to flush her system of the random men who touched her. Clearly all her pseudoscience bullshit didn’t work none though, or the boys wouldn’t be on the brink of death. The disease she gave them was through her tainted blood. Venereal.
Mama’s only pretty sure the twins and Drayton got the same daddy. Not one of her vile clients, just an old fling who never stepped the hell up but she crawled back to anyhow.
Drayton hates them all. Hates mama, hates the men who buy her, hates their daddy for not sticking around to help none, hates grandpa for watching it all go down from behind the bars of his self-built mind prison. Hates God for not dealing him a better hand.
Every goddamn day he works to keep his two brothers alive, just because it’s right. And deep down, he thinks he hates them too.
Mama don’t appreciate that not one bit. She refuses to even acknowledge it, “If I could just get some damn help-“
That’s more than enough for Drayton. He’s done with goin’ on like this. Can’t take another minute of not being appreciated for working himself bloody and broken and still taking care of those kids in between.
If his slaving away don’t mean nothing, then he’ll just go.
He leaves Mama on the porch, storming inside. Oughta pack a bag and leave right now, a baby under each arm.
“Where are you going?” Mama’s thick voice shrieks at him, and the tiniest hint of panic there drives him to keep going.
He wants her to be afraid.
Turning on heel, he yells back at her, “To tend to your bastard children, since you’re so unbothered with it god damn all!”
The noise ain’t good for the twins. Slamming doors and booming arguments and all. Drayton certainly ain’t calming down any time soon, and Mama won’t leave once a fight’s started. Leaves only one thing.
Nothing more than a light blanket around each baby, Drayton leaves. Didn’t have time to make a plan and execute it. All the way down to his truck he leaves.
From the stoop, Mama screams at him, “Get your ass back here!”
But Drayton ain’t gonna listen this time. Won’t or can’t, actually that’s not really clear. Fact is, he just needs out.
Babies are in the back on their little blankets, cuddled up to each other for heat between them, even though it’s goddamn 80 something degrees out they’re cold, and Drayton just drives.
Don’t know where he’s going and don’t care.
Every now and again, he’ll check all the mirrors, make sure hell ain’t coming for him. One call to the state from Mama and he’d be done for. But it ain’t him she should be worried about when grandpa still ain’t dead yet.
They try to ruin him and take the babies back, well he’s got his own fair share of family secrets. Things a hell of a lot worse than getting the kids away from their monster whore of a mother on a rampage.
Then again, might not matter in the end.
He’d rather be dead than lose the only family he had the chance to care for instead of them hating him first.
Going 70 miles an hour on a curved stretch of road, Drayton considers it. Death, that is.
Could save them all three a whole world of heartbreak if they just went out together now. It’d be quick. Just take his hands off the wheel for one second and then-
A tanker flashes its lights and blares the horn when his truck crossed the centerline. Whatever evil took over Drayton’s Sawyer’s impulse to survive is gone and blinded, in the exact same moment the babies start wailing their little heads off.
Drayton slams on the brakes before they get so far off the road they’d crash. Crossed into the wrong lane, sure, but they’re safe on the opposite shoulder now.
The loud noise spooked the babes though. Only sound now is their crying, but even that is muffled in Draytons ears under the sound of his own heart racing.
One look back at those sick little boys, and all Drayton can feel is shame. He’d almost killed them. All three of them.
On purpose.
Looking back at them there, bare-chested, covered in rashes, sobbing so hard they’re pink in their little faces, Drayton wishes he could strike himself down for what he almost did. Except, striking down is what he wanted. Death was the end goal. He’d failed to go through with it, for one, but his biggest failure was as an older brother.
Something’s gotta change. Living this life will be a worse punishment than ending it. Carrying on and raising up those kids, guiltily remembering all his life what he’d almost done, that would be much worse than whatever death was like.
Still, subject him to hellfire for even thinking it, but he’d still end the suffering now if he were strong enough. Pull the pin and let it all burn up now, instead of waiting for hell to do it first.
They’ll always be miserable. It comes with being a godforsaken Sawyer.
Drayton lets the babies wail.
Shaking hands and ghosts of impulses won’t change their pain. Their fear. The twins’ll have to learn to soothe themselves eventually anyhow.
Still as a spectre, Drayton starts the car back, and he drives. The only acknowledgment of the dreadful children’s screams an occasional, violent twitch of his hand, when he fails to block it out and almost snaps.
In his head, he thinks it could be worse. They could be wrapped in tangled metal, instead of their warm blankets and each other's frail little arms.
But he doesn’t say a word, and as he brings them home, takes them inside. He just lays them in their little cot and walks away. Mama is gone again already, no doubt drinking away the argument from earlier. If she won’t bother, why should he? His age, he should be moving out. Settling down. Making something of himself.
Instead Drayton feels like a monster. A hateful beast.
Like his grandpa. Like his mother. Like a Sawyer.
No sense in quitting tradition now, he supposes.
#my writing#please read the warnings up top and view at your own discretion#tw suicidal ideation#tw sui ideation#tw abuse#drayton sawyer#nubbins sawyer#chop top sawyer#bobby sawyer#tcm fanfic#draytons in his early 20s here!
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Problem is sometimes euthanasia can be the best option for some people
But y'know, everything depends on the situation
There was a young man from the UK, his girlfriend had tossed battery acid in his face.
I'm just going to do this, sticks with me since I think it was the first thing like this I ever really interacted with. Link
A woman threw acid over her former partner in an attack that left him with such "grotesque" injuries Belgian doctors agreed to end his life.
Berlinah Wallace, 49, is accused of murder and applying a corrosive fluid to Dutch engineer Mark van Dongen in Bristol in 2015.
Mr van Dongen ran screaming into the street in his boxer shorts with "horrific" injuries before being taken to hospital, Bristol Crown Court heard.
Ms Wallace denies both charges.
The attack on 23 September left Mr van Dongen, 29, paralysed from the neck down, unrecognisable and all but blinded, Bristol Crown Court heard.
Ms Wallace allegedly laughed and told him "if I can't have you, no-one else can" before throwing a glass of sulphuric acid into his face.
Prosecutor Adam Vaitilingam QC said the defendant "deliberately threw acid at Mr van Dongen, intending to cause him serious harm".
"She admits throwing it but denies any intent to cause him harm. She says that she believed that what she was throwing over him was a glass of water."
(oh yes people often mistake acid for water I'm sure)
Mr Vaitilingam said Mr van Dongen's "physical and mental suffering" drove him to euthanasia.
"Put simply, he could not bear to live in that condition. If that is right, we say, then she is guilty of murder," he added.
The court was told Mr van Dongen suffered 15 months of pain before being granted euthanasia in Belgium, where it is legal and where his family lives, in January 2017.
"He was examined by three consultants, who confirmed that this was, in their terms, a case of unbearable physical and psychological suffering despite maximum medical support," Mr Vaitilingam added.
"They agreed that the test for euthanasia was met, and on 2 January 2017 they inserted a catheter into his heart, which brought about his immediate death."
___________
Not really a fan of euthanasia, but as reasons go, I wouldn't fight anyone over this I don't think.
Now let's go to Canada.
Canada's Veterans Affairs office offered to assist a Paralympian and veteran to commit suicide when she sought to have a wheelchair lift installed in her home, the woman told lawmakers last week.
Christine Gauthier, a 52-year-old retired corporal who competed in the 2016 Paralympics at Rio De Janeiro, testified to lawmakers that a VA official had offered — in writing — to provide her with a medically-assisted suicide kit. The case officer remains unnamed but reportedly made similar offers to at least three other veterans, according to the Independent.
"I have a letter saying that if you’re so desperate, madam, we can offer you MAID, medical assistance in dying," Gauthier said in a hearing before the House of Commons veterans affairs committee.
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau condemned the incident in a public statement on Friday after Gauthier said she personally wrote him a letter on the issue.
(I don't believe for a moment trudeau is displeased with anything about this other than the press it's getting is making him look bad)
This woman here
Wanted one of these
And was given the option of ending her own life instead.
So ya, you're right and I'm showing here 2 fairly extreme ends of the spectrum when it comes to this kind of thing, there should be some dignity allowed out there and you shouldn't be forced to live in excruciating pain where every moment after the morphine wears off leaves you in agony.
He went and made the decision for himself to do what he did and several doctors signed off on it saying, ya dude's fucked and baring a miracle will be beyond miserable for the foreseeable future so we're gonna ok this request, coup de grace, mercy killing.
Then we have a mostly fit veteran, paralympian, athlete that would like to be able to go upstairs in the home they live in and the doctor hands them a brochure that says have you considered suicide. (probably far more tastefully put than that, but still)
So while you are right there are situations that call for it, having EDS shouldn't be one of them, neither should having OCD, Borderline, Schizophrenia or Bipolar,
and being poor should not be a factor included either
OCD, Borderline, Schizophrenia and Bipolar I haven't actually seen if they're offering it to them but with the fact that they are offering to people with mental issues I wouldn't be surprised.
This is not mercy, mercy is helping people heal that can be helped heal, it's a chairlift for someone. it's not a needle so they don't have to fuss with it
Canada's standards for this are already too loose and they're about to get looser, doctors that don't want to treat someone might start pointing folks towards this too.
It's wrong,
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How to fix the damage
Disabled munver
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
Disabled Munver has taken over my life and I decided to write. I'm gonna do my best to do multiple parts and all of that happy bullshit.
Warnings: self-deprication, internalized homophobia, suicidal thoughts (you blink you miss it), not proof read so I have no idea what else
He couldn't even comprehend how much his life was falling apart, but he knew for sure it already did. Jason was dead one minute and waking up in the hospital the next. His girlfriend was murdered, but instead of it being the metalhead he was tracking down it was some other vessel apparently. He was in the hospital which sure sucked. But what was the worst was the fact that he was now paralyzed from the waist down. His parents told him that he was 'blessed' and how 'lucky he was to get out with such a small injury' but how was this small?
He lost everything, he couldn't play basketball, he lost a full ride scholarship, and he couldn't even go to the bathroom by himself. It did get slightly worse though, because Eddie was also in his hospital room. He wasn't visiting, his injuries were too bad for him to get off that easily, the two boys had to share the room. He would've thrown a fit about it if Eddie hadn't been so honest about the upside down and what happened to Chrissy. He also maybe was a kinda good storyteller.
His kids, well not his kids but the ones that visited, were somewhat nice. Although he had a feeling that the curly haired one didn't like him at all, and he knew for sure Lucas didn't forgive him for getting in his way. Jason could never forgive himself for all of everything that happened. It had to be his fault that it started, Chrissy started to grow distant and he should've said something but he didn't want to drive her away. Maybe it really was all his fault. Maybe he was being punished by God, for being a somewhat shitty boyfriend, for being...
That part wasn't true, he wasn't one of them. He wasn't like Eddie or, apparently, Billy. He dated Chrissy, he loved Chrissy. He'd be lying if he didn't say that Eddie was nice, and funny, and amazing with kids. Jason's parents asked him if he needed his own room but after hearing about the Upside Down and hearing how Eddie fought those bats he didn't want to leave. Eddie knew what he was doing incase something else happened and he couldn't really defend himself, you know, with his legs. Hell it'd be better if they just got ripped off, instead of him being ripped in half.
His stitches hurt like hell most days, but atleast he could still feel that area. With how stressed he was recently he didn't even know if he could, well, get off, properly. Everything always ached and himself and his parents refused to have him put on a morphine drip, so instead he was on 15 different medications. He wasn't allowed to keep any of his medicine on him while in the hospital per his therapist's request.
Jason had been going to physical therapy as well as normal therapy. His regular therapist, Dr. Linda, said that he had signs of depression, PTSD and anxiety. She also said that he should try to be less cynical. He wanted to say that she should try to be less optimistic. Most of their sessions were talking about his childhood, getting ripped in half, his (former) girlfriend, faith. Physical therapy was different though, it never helped the way he saw it. If it was really helping then he would have been able to walk by now.
The only thing that really kept him from hiding all of his pills everyday was Eddie, mostly. The only thing that kept him from clawing his skin until he couldn't anymore. He was always so bright whenever he got visitors, but Jason saw how exhausted he looked when everyone was gone. Jason and Eddie got closer than they would have ever guessed before all of this. Eddie saw Jason crying and unable to do almost anything without someone else, and Jason saw Eddie drained from a whole day of putting on a fake face.
A little while Jason's parents stopped showing up, and a little bit after that he learned that they left again. It didn't really hurt, it was just how it was, sure his parents were affectionate but that's just when they were home. His dad was a businessman and of course that was what he was supposed to be but... Nevermind it was stupid.
Jason was supposed to be sleeping, and if it wasn't for the lulling sound of Eddie's snores and the air being forced into his lungs he would've kept worrying. Jason had been worrying all of his life, but maybe he was fine getting some rest. It's not like his medication gave him any choice.
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Twilight Syndrome Murder Case - Guy C
[Part 1]
So... given Twilight Syndrome Murder Case was in the game - I am curious of what everyone else else was doing; I know that girl A was Mikan, girl B was Hiyoko, girl C was Ibuki, girl D was Mahiru, girl E was Hatomi and guy F was Fuyuhiko...
Yeah I... did recall seeing those names pop up but I'm not sure what everyone else was doing at the time but I'll give you my account of what I was doing...
On July 8th... I did remember talking with Yukio and Kei about Nagito's status after his suicide attempt...
...
...
...
Date: July 8th, 2011
[X]
Wait hold on are you saying that Nagito is going to leave the hospital?!
Indeed... seems that after checking his mental health; he was free to go, so I'm going to check him over and sign him out.
So by July 11th, he should be able to return back to us...
That's... good to hear, honestly I was worried about him but at least he'll be okay, so what about you Yukio; you going with Byakuya?
O-Oh uh, actually I sadly can't... you see, me and Peko are going to go on a date tonight...
Oooh, talk about lucky for you; Mr. Miyahira, you surely got yourself a good catch...
Hey if you can confirm if her panties are black for me if you do.
Wh-What?! Hold on a moment, don't think we are going to that stage in the relationship just yet!
And besides, it's only just one date... I'm not even sure if it's going to work out or not.
Exactly, Teruteru... let's not tease him as he does seem nervous...
Right... that is fair...
Still... have fun, Yukio...
Thanks, see ya then... *walks away*
Well... I better head off too, gotta prepare for exams.
I got a dish in mind and I think the judges are gonna love it!
Well I'm sure whatever your going to make will impress the judges very well; see you later.
*As Imposter leaves, Teruteru takes his leave too and heads for the cafeteria which he comes across a sight*
Hey Sayaka, did you... give me this note?
Huh? A note...? I don't think so... can you let me see it?
*gives her the piece of paper* It was on my desk and had your name on it so I figure I give it to you to confirm it.
'Dear Yokoyoko, I want to meet you as the music room after school to talk about something, please come alone. From Sayaka.'
Whoa, that's... really weird, hey Sayaka you wrote this? It sounds like a crappy love confession.
Well I surely wouldn't confess like this, I would of written a song about it if I were to confess to someone...
So no... Sorry Yokoyoko, I didn't write this if asking; sorry if you got confused.
Nah... it's okay, probably someone wanted to mess with me, I'll just throw it away; honestly this sounded way too weird especially as the music room is being use during the exams. Honestly if they wanted to confess, pick a better spot.
Hehe, well I hope this helps you - anyway, I'm going to do some exercising in the training room; excuse me.
*Sayaka walks out of the room until Makoto look at Yokoyoko*
Okay... now that she's gone, is everyone in your class coming to this party or not?
Yeah, I mean seriously we need to make you all are good to go.
#dr#danganronpa#dtfa#despair to future arc#ds:rw#despair side: re write#sdr2#super danganronpa 2#dr:thh#danganronpa: trigger happy havoc#dr3#danganronpa 3#monomi#teruteru hanamura#yukio miyahira#ultimate imposter#yokoyoko hanamura#sayaka maizono#makoto naegi#leon kuwata#gundham tanaka#fuyuhiko kuzuryu#kojikoji hanamura#ayumi arima#chihiro fujisaki#kenrou arima#celestia ludenberg#byakuya togami#juri shibutani#ds ep 6
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Caught in the Undertow
Chapter 1: You in the dark
AO3
TW suicidal thoughts/ideation etc.
Chapter 1: You in the dark
*EDDIE*
Eddie has always sort of wanted to die. He’s never actually planned to kill himself and he wouldn’t, probably, but he’s fantasized about it a lot. Sometimes, on the bad days, before falling asleep he has even wished and prayed to not wake up again and honestly if the opportunity to die were to ever present itself he knows he wouldn’t do anything to stop it.
The idea comes to Eddie as he helps Dustin to climb up the rope and into the safely of the right-side-up. He is overwhelmed. He’s cold, and scared, and tired. Weary in a way that feels like no nap or good night’s sleep will ever cure.
It’s not even a debate in his mind. Eddie cuts the rope, ensuring Dustin’s safety, and runs out into the dark to lead the bats away.
This is it, the chance he’s always longed for and at least this way he can make it mean something. This will keep Dustin safe. It will buy more time for Harrington and the girls to kill Vecna.
He peddles as fast as he can, wanting to get the bats as far away from the gate and Dustin as possible. He thinks to himself as he rides that he’s glad he doesn’t want to survive this. What sort of life would he be going back to anyway?
Devil worshipper, cult leader, freak, murderer. It’s too many labels to overcome. He’s too many things, too much. Too loud, too different, too broken.
When he’s not being too much he’s not enough. Not a good enough student, I mean who takes this many tries to graduate high school. Not a good enough son, if his parents dumping him on Wayne’s doorstep is any indication.
Thinking of Wayne causes a brief stab of guilt. He’ll be sad when Eddie’s gone but honestly, it’s the best thing for him too. One less thing to worry about, one less mouth to feed. He knows it hasn’t been easy on his uncle, having him. Raising a kid is never easy, let alone raising someone else’s and Eddie was a unique challenge all his own.
The bats have caught up and the swarm is directly above him now. One pulls away from the hoard and knocks Eddie from the bike. He doesn’t give up, he fights to the very end. It must have been a reflex, Eddie thinks as he lays on the ground bleeding out. Some long dormant base instinct popping up at the last second because why would he fight so hard when he wanted this. Eddie had wanted this, didn’t he?
*STEVE*
Steve is soaring. He’s fucking ecstatic. They did it, they killed Vecna. They fucking WON. He, Nancy, and Robin smile and laugh as they exit the Creel house. During the walk back they take turns recounting each of Nancy’s expert shots and every molotov cocktail that was thrown. It’s not until they’re about halfway back to the trailer that Steve realizes something has gone terribly wrong.
He hears Dustin’s wailing long before he sees him, and Steve takes off running in the direction of the sound. He skids to a stop on his knees next to the boy, who’s crying huddled over the lifeless body of Eddie Munson.
Dustin starts babbling through tears “he said he was gonna buy more time. The bats started getting into the trailer, he made me go through the gate first and then he cut the rope and lead them away…”
It breaks something inside Steve. He can’t allow this, can’t accept it. They fucking won goddamn it, it’s not supposed to be like this. If anyone wasn’t going to make it, it should have been him, it’s supposed to be him!
He quickly bends over Eddie, leaning down to listen for any signs of breathing while using his fingers to check for a pulse. He finds neither but doesn’t let that fact stop him from starting CPR.
“Oh my god Steve, what can we do?” It’s Robin, she and Nancy finally having caught up to him.
He doesn’t stop or falter in his movements as he tells them what to do. “Take Dustin back through the gate and call an ambulance. I want them waiting on the other side before we try to move him.”
“Steve, he’s not breathing. Does he even have a pulse?” Nancy asks, tone careful.
“He will.”
“Steve…”
“Just go. Now!”
He’s not sure how much times has passed when Robin comes back, approaching him from behind.
“The ambulance is five minutes out, how do you want to do this?”
The timing was perfect, Eddie had regained his pulse just a few minutes ago and Steve continued administering rescue breaths until those returned as well. His breathing was shallow, but it was there.
He and Robin drug over a piece of discarded metal and moved Eddie onto it as gently as they could, using the improvised stretcher to carry him back to the trailer. Getting him through the gate was a challenge but the girls had shoved a bunch of furniture under it that he used to climb up while carrying their unconscious friend on his back.
He brought Eddie all the way to the ambulance doors and the EMT’s didn’t question it when he insisted on riding along with them to the hospital. Likely due to the fact that he was covered nearly head to toe in the other man’s blood. Nancy, Robin, and Dustin followed along behind in Steve’s car.
Things change once they arrive at the hospital, once the staff realize just who their patient is. Thankfully he’d been stabilized before that happened, Steve shudders to think about what might have happened otherwise.
Though unconscious, Eddie is handcuffed to his hospital bed and an officer is assigned at his door. The group is told they have to leave, it’s a matter for police now and since none of them are family anyway no details can be given on his condition.
They leave reluctantly and only after a kind nurse promises to contact Eddie’s Uncle. It’s a week before they hear any news. It takes Hopper returning from the dead and forcing himself back into the Hawkins PD to even have Eddie unshackled from the bed let alone start the long process of clearing his name.
Part 2
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie fanfic#alternating pov#steve x eddie#stranger things#ao3 link#CITU
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Things I Wanted to Include for My V3 Rewrite - Part 5
So they determined that the two victims, Keebo and Korekiyo, killed each other. But there’s a problem. The rules say only one person can be the blackened, they can’t vote for two people. That’s when they realize something about Keebo’s death. As I said, Keebo got attacked by Korekiyo, but he died while logged in to the Virtual World via self-destruct. So what does self-destruct mean for a robot?
Keebo killed himself!
Yes, that’s another twist with this case. The two victims didn’t kill each other, Keebo killed them both, Korekiyo and himself. He used his laser arm to kill Korekiyo by blasting him away and Korekiyo was unsuccessful in finishing off Keebo. Wounded, Keebo realized what had happened in the real world and tried to kill himself in the Virtual World. As I said, if Keebo self-destructed in the real world, the explosion would’ve destroyed the computer room and everyone in it. To keep everyone alive, Keebo uses his self-destruct in the Virtual World. With this new theory, everyone casts their votes and everyone votes for Keebo. And the vote confirms that...
Keebo is the 4th blackened.
But because both Keebo and Korekiyo are dead, they’re stuck at figuring out what their motives were. That’s when my OC takes out from his pocket the flashdrive Keebo gave back to him. It lights up as a sign that now's the time to see what’s on it. And on the flashdrive is a video Keebo left.
Basically, I wanted to narrate this scene in a similar way to the post-4th trial in DR1 where Monokuma reads to everyone Sakura’s suicide note. Now, I’d rather not say the video is Keebo’s suicide note, but the video has Keebo explaining that after he decrypted what was originally on the flashdrive, he deleted it because he doesn’t want everyone to know the truth that he learned on it. I guess you can say the flashdrive explains the truth about the killing game and Keebo wanted to protect everyone from knowing that truth or something.
Korekiyo’s motive was a tough one. My original idea was for his sister to come back to life in Kiyo’s body and explain to everyone during the trial that Kiyo wanted revenge for not killing Tenko. Of course, I had to scrap this idea since I ended up writing that Angie did some spiritual thing to cause Kiyo’s sister to leave his body, setting him free. But it turns out that even with his sister gone, Korekiyo was unable to change.
The reason I chose Keebo to be his target has to do with the idea I had in mind for how Keebo would specially log in to the Virtual World. Korekiyo saw him as an easy target and I guess since Keebo was showing off his new robot equipment… I don’t know, it was a work in progress, and I don’t think I’m gonna come up with something to make it work out. If I could come up with something good, I’d say Keebo was suspicious that Korekiyo would commit murder again even though, in my fanfic, he failed to kill Tenko, and Keebo was willing to sacrifice himself to stop Kiyo.
But there’s a reason I thought it was fitting to kill-off Keebo in Chapter 4. It felt like I was calling back to the murders from the first two games, the murders of Sakura and Nekomaru. Sakura from the fact that she died from suicide and in my fanfic they determine that Keebo committed suicide, and Nekomaru from the fact he turned into a robot in Chapter 4 and Keebo is the Ultimate Robot. But another reason has to do with Miu being the original 4th victim, and if you ship Keebo x Miu, it just feels so fitting to have Keebo die in Miu’s place.
Now you might be thinking, “Wait, if Keebo’s dead, does that mean there’s not gonna be an execution?” Wrong! Just like in DR1, Monokuma uses a substitute for his execution that he doesn’t want to waste. Basically…
The Monokubs get executed!
In my fanfic, the Monokubs don’t die, but I felt like killing them off in the 4th execution. Monokuma gets pissed off from the fact that they didn’t die in the previous executions and decides to have them die in Keebo’s place.
I don’t really have any good details on how the execution plays out or even a good name for it. There’s an unused execution for Keebo entitled, “Garbage Collection Day'' which involves Keebo being eaten by a garbage truck with teeth, I guess. For my idea, I wanted his execution to involve getting smashed up into a cube shape and then dropped into a pool of hot molten metal and melted into nothing. I guess I could let the Monokubs die like that instead.
But this isn’t the end of Chapter 4, still more to come.
#danganronpa#ndrv3#blog#fanfic#fan fiction#danganronpa fanfic#keebo#k1-b0#korekiyo shinguji#tw suicide
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The Hotel
John Wick x Reader
Chapter 7
Punishment
Masterlists Series Masterlist Playlist
Author's Note: At this point, I should just call it a supernatural au instead of putting it in the warnings.
Chapter Summary: John is punished for going against The Entity's orders but is encouraged to go through with his date. While on the rooftop, Y/n reveals some details from her past.
Warnings- descriptions of injury, descriptions of undiagnosed and untreated mental illness, descriptions of murder, mentions of vomit, mentions of blood, mentions of suicide.
TRANSLATIONS LISTED AT THE BOTTOM
The long, diagonal welts on his back, interrupting the elaborate ink adoring his skin hurt with every deep breath, and he had to swallow thickly to remedy the disgusting taste in his mouth and the rawness in his throat. The exertion on his scalp drizzled down his face and brow and its coolness contrasted with the warmth leaking from his back and dripping down his sides, onto the floor. Spitting a mouthful of bitterness into the puddle of acidic bile on the floor, John pushed off his hands and rose to sit on his legs, which were folded under him.
“Hoc est non iens ut subsisto mihi,” John heaved breathlessly. Already, he could feel the gaping gashes slowly closing, and he didn’t think it would be long before they’d be reduced to a new set of shining scars.
“Scio non,” cruelly He chuckled, “That was for fucking her. Three times,” with certain disgust, he lapsed into English, “But I’ve changed my mind, take her to the garden. She needs a taste of who she is.”
Hastily, John wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose to a firm stand. The pain was still there, but lessening by the second and was now shirked by his intrigue. “And who exactly is she?” His breathing was starting to even, and after gargling some bourbon and spitting it into a little waste bin near the dresser, he took a long swing.
“She’s your queen,” the response was nonchalant, though John could tell there was more to it.
Shaking his head, John walked over to his closet, shifting through his arsenal of dark attire, in search of a shirt for later that evening, “And what else? She had that tattoo, she knew what it meant, she said she felt connected to it.”
“It is nothing that concerns you,” the harshness was evident- and downright infuriating.
“Its my fucking kingdom! It concerns me!”
“You rule because I allow it,” out of the corner of his eyes, John caught the dark shadow zipping from one end of the room to the next, “I put you on this throne,” it traveled across the room again, “And I can take you off it,” the dark plume lunged towards him, and John felt the chill against his back when it stopped behind him, but he didn’t dare show any sign of being affected. “Get that?”
John clenched his jaw, and he could feel the icy grip settling on his bare shoulder, “Yes, my Lord,” he gritted, bending his head. Defiance, in that moment, was not worth it.
As promised, John was at her door on the stroke of seven, and because she had remembered Caroline’s cold advice, Y/n had ensured that she was ready on time. He’d looked happy to see her, and she wasn’t ashamed to say that seeing John had been the highlight of another strange day, but it was hard to miss the masked despondence. He hadn’t been short with her or anything, but his words had been kept at an even lower minimum than usual and he seemed deep in thought.
And then he asked ‘the question’.
“I know its a pretty intense question,” he began while they rode the elevator up to the roof, “But how’d your parents……die?” For the first time since she met him, he seemed a little unsure of himself and she was positive that it was because the question could have been perceived as an insensitive one.
Y/n though, had long been desensitized to the inquiry itself, even if she did still have a tough time talking about that night. “Um…..its….” She glanced at him, “You’re probably never gonna wanna go out with me again after I tell you,” it was only the reason why she didn’t have friends back at home anyway.
John hummed softly, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down the small of her back, “Don’t be so sure of that.”
Y/n huffed a humorless chuckle and shook her head, choosing to not put merit to his words until she told him. “If you say so,” she exhaled nervously, ducking her head down as she began picking at her nails, “Uh….my mom, she-she struggled, she wasn’t diagnosed, we couldn’t afford it, but she’d….hear things. See things. My dad was so patient,” her voice dropped, “Anyways, when I was ten she…she’d been having….one of her episodes. But it was worse than the others,” the doors shuddered open, revealing the rooftop, illuminated by distant city lights and sparsely stationed park lanterns. “I wasn’t supposed to go into their bedroom,” she disclosed softly.
When she paused for an extended period, allowing John to lead her through the rooftop garden, towards wrought iron bench that was pressed to the concrete balustrade fence that guarded edges. “But you did?” John probed as they sank to the bench.
Picking at the hem of her short, floral dress, Y/n sniffled as every memory she’d been fighting for just over a decade flooded back to her. The way she looked- tangled hair because her father couldn’t get close enough to brush it, the red, self-inflicted scratches on her arms and face, the tear tracks on her cheeks. The blood on her hands from when she’d broken the mirror of her vanity- her father didn’t live long enough after that to regret leaving that in there. “Yeah,” Y/n nodded weakly, sniffling again, “My dad was downstairs, making dinner and she kept calling me,” slow tears were hot on her face and Y/n struggled to keep up with them, “My room was right next to theirs, and the wall was so thin, she kept….like, knocking it, I guess. And talking about how she needed to hug her baby. She missed hugging her baby, and I missed her too so I just,” she shrugged, swallowing thickly, “I unlocked the door- there was a deadbolt on the outside, I never understood why he locked her in until that day.”
“She was violent?” He husked, eyes wide.
“Yeah,” Y/n rasped, eyes going blank as she thought back on the experience. She could have sworn her mother wasn’t human when she’d gone into the room that night, she had only been dressed in a pair of shorts and one of her dad’s t-shirts and was kneeling on the bed with the frighteningly feral look in her eyes. There was blood on the sheets and on the carpeted floor. “She was holding piece of a broken mirror, and then she started saying these awful things, I don’t even remember them really,” that was an outright lie. “Just that…..I was the spawn of the devil,” a hitched sob escaped her lips and Y/n covered her mouth with a palm pressed firmly to her face.
“Fuck,” John murmured below his breath and it made Y/n even more embarrassed to talk about it. After that night, the bullies at school had been relentless and everyone and their mother had avoided her like the plague- she’d become an outcast overnight.
“She…..she….I screamed so loud when it happened, and the next thing I knew was my dad pushing me out of the way, she got him instead. It happened so fast, but in my head,” she scrubbed her hands over her face, “In my head, it goes by so slowly. After she…..” Y/n shuddered, unable to put it into words, “She just gave me this look, it was like she was okay again, she said that she was sorry and that it was all her fault then she.….slit her wrists.”
John was quiet for a while, but when his arm went around her shoulders, Y/n submitted to his embrace and buried her face in his chest after he’d shifted slightly, half from shame and half from the desire to be comforted. The last person she’d hugged was her aunt, shortly before she died- Y/n hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been.
“I shouldn’t have asked you about that,” he said softly, and she felt him press his lips to the crown of her head, “I am so, so sorry.” When she pulled her head away from his broad chest, vaguely noting that she’d soaked part of his navy dress shirt with her tears, John kissed the spots right below her eyes and she tangled her hands in his hair. “But you’re not defined by what happened to you,” he whispered, lips still pressed to her face and beard grazing her soft skin, “And nothing could make me not want to see you again.”
His words should have been alarming, they hadn't known each other for no more than three days, but Y/n had never felt so…..accepted. The way he held her, how it had felt when they’d been together, Y/n didn’t think she’d ever experienced anything even remotely like that, and she liked it. Almost all her life, she’d been alone in the world. shouldering the heavy consequence of unspeakable tragedy- always the socially derelict with a past that she’d tried to put in a box, but in just three days, John had shown her what it was like to feel special- not weird.
“You mean that?” She asked shakily.
Pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek one last time, John pulled away a little took her face in his hands. She could feel his calluses on her skin, and when he dragged his thumb along the apple of her cheek, she melted into his touch, “Of course,” he whispered.
Relaxing a bit more, she leaned forward, consequently pressing her forehead to his nose. It was definitely too soon for the words that were at the tip of her tongue, but Y/n had been so far removed from a feeling like that, that she almost spilled them. Almost. She was obscenely aware that saying them that soon would ruin everything- so she didn’t. Instead, she sucked in a breath and painted on a faltering smile, “You promised to show me the roses.”
When they separated a little, John searched her eyes, and she was a little surprised that she could meet his so easily in the dimness. “If you’re not up to it, we don’t have to,” John offered gently, his thumb still caressing the side of her face.
“I want to,” Y/n promised earnestly. She didn’t want their date to be stained by her traumatic past- she couldn’t let that be the memory they took away from their time on the rooftop. “Please?” Smiling hopefully, she loosely circled her fingers around John’s wrists.
“If you’re sure-”
“I’m sure,” Y/n promised, “Please,” she flashed him her attempt at a wider smile, but it faltered. Still, John relented. Trying to match her expression, he kissed her one last time, dragged his thumb along her lower lip and then stood, offering his hand. Taking it without hesitation, she locked her fingers with his so John could lead her through the garden.
Through all the pain of recounting the worst of her childhood, Y/n had neglected to notice just how beautiful the space was. Among groomed hedges sporting bright, white unopened rose buds were more benches like the one they’d been sitting on, most of them flanked by the park lanterns. A few other types of flowers were apparently grown there too, she recognized some of them from the bouquets that decorated common spaces at The Mirage, black calla lily plants around the base of the lamps, while mauve dahlias grew near the concrete fencing. There was a fountain at the center too, and it might have been a trick of the pale, yellow lighting, but she could have sworn the water was sparkling. “It really is so beautiful up here,” she commented softly, and after a purposeful inhale, she hummed, “And it smells like…perfume.” Of course, she knew what flowers smelled like, but she didn’t think that such a subtle smell could dominate an open space easily.
“It is, yeah,” John nodded, caressing the back of her thumb with his in an easy, soothing gesture, “Most of the roses aren’t in bloom yet, you can probably tell,” he chuckled quietly, but the sound almost seemed empty, “But there should be some to the back.”
They strayed a little further through the manicured rose bushes, eventually stopping at a statue that made her do a double take. “Is this….” Y/n glanced at John. her smile fading as she drank in the figure, carved in bronze, before her. “Is- is this this…..supposed to be….” A figure positioned on an intricately carved pillar, with wings opened on its back, a pointed tail curled around its legs, a sword in its hand and a jug at its feet. A slow trickle of the same shimmery water from the fountain drained from the spout, disappearing into what she presumed was a drainage system hidden in the rose bushes that surrounded the statue.
Quite literally, it looked like the devil.
“These,” John nodded to the flowers, all of which were big and open, looking much like the flowers she’d received the day before, “Are always in bloom.” She couldn’t tell if he was purposely ignoring her unfinished question, or if he just hadn’t heard her- though, she could hardly imagine that he wouldn’t, considering it was exceptionally quiet. It was quite peculiar when she thought of it; the city wasn’t very far away, yet. The only thing Y/n could hear was the sound of the fountains- it was yet another occurrence that made her irrational mind wonder if it was possible that The Mirage could be cut off from the rest of the city.
“They’re gorgeous,” she sighed, going along with him. Maybe she was simply overthinking the statue. Even if looking at it did leave her unsettled, and it did seem like whoever had put it there had made it seem like it was some sort of shrine, or holy site, Y/n tried to convince herself that it wasn’t as bad as she was thinking. What were the chances that it wasn’t just for the sake of aesthetic anyway? “But you said they changed color.”
“They do,” John confirmed, and she could have sworn that she heard him draw in a sharp breath before offering unsteadily, “Would you like me to show you how?”
Despite the discomfort that had settled like a weight in the lowest part of her chest, right above her stomach, Y/n nodded. “I’d love that,” she glanced at him, excited to see the trick of such stunning blooms.
John hummed, “May I?” He swallowed thickly, raising her hand up slightly between them, and leading it over the hedge. Then, when Y/n nodded her permission, John singled out her pointer finger and led it to a thron on the underside of the rose closest to them.
“Wait,” she stiffened up, brows knitted in confusion, “No, no, you can’t,” she stuttered, easily recalling her experience with being pricked the day before, “I told you-”
“Its fine,” John promised, “You trust me, don’t you?”
She shouldn’t have, they’d only known each other for about three days. But she did, or at least, Y/n wanted to. “Of course,” she peeped, masking her hesitation with a little fake enthusiasm. With a poorly suppressed shudder, which John either didn’t notice or care about, she let him lead her finger to the thorn, a sharp hiss escaping her lips when it punctured her skin.
Surprisingly, only one drop welted to the surface, and with careful movements, John guided her finger over the rose and squeezed one, lonesome drop out and let it fall into the center. Her finger didn’t even hurt that time and for a couple seconds, nothing happened; no pain, no profuse bleeding, nothing.
“What’s it suppos-” With a gasp, she cut herself off, eyes widening as the rose, from the center petals going outwards, began taking on a deep red hue. “Oh my God,” she rasped, stumbling backward when that rose, and three others around it went completely red. “How did it…..”
“They’re called blood roses,” he explained apathetically, then, before she could properly process what had just happened, he plucked the flower from the trimmed bush, offering it to her, "Take off two of the petals and drop in in there," he nodded to the jug.
Y/n furrowed her brows, carefully picking off a couple of the fragrant, outer petals, she looked to him again, all while batting the mess of confusing feelings in her stomach, "In here?" She leaned over to the jug, not yet dropping the petals in.
"Yeah, go ahead," he encouraged.
Drawing in a deep breath, Y/n guided her hand closer to the inside of the bronze jug, and allowed the petals to waft into the water. They dissolved instantaneously, behaving the same way a drop of ink in water would. A sharp gasp emitted her lips with the crimson colour spread within seconds, dying the shimmering water and oddly enough, changing the density. Suddenly, the liquid pouring from the spout could have easily been mistaken for the wine she'd had with John on two occasions.
“Not everyone can do that," John intruded on her thoughts before she could fully connect the experience to what he'd told her the night before.
Stuttering, Y/n shook her head and glanced at him curiously, “Wha-what does that mean?”
Reaching out, John touched her jaw in a backhanded caress, “It means your special”
*****
Translations (From Latin)
Hoc est non iens ut subsisto mihi- this isn’t going to stop me
Scio non- I know it won’t
*****
Tagging- @memento-mora @bubblebuttwade @cynic-spirit @xenoxin
#keanu reeves#john wick#keanu reeves x reader#keanu reeves x you#john wick x reader#john wick x you#fanfic#au#the hotel
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TW: mention of child experimentation, mention of organ replacement, mention of murder, mention of human trafficking, medical/experiment whump, suicidal idolation, self-harm, corrupt government
'I love you' was never a phrase Betzalel ever really liked. It would always bring him back to the days when he was locked away, with his 'Aunt' trying to make him the perfect weapon. He cared for people since that's human nature, but never anything more that he could describe. He'd only use the words to manipulate the people the government needed him to help capture or dispose of.
Betzalel was laying in bed next to Yves, considering waking him up, but instead he just stared at the ceiling thinking. Then a thought crossed his mind, "Where is Aunt now, Is she still doing her past work? Is she trying to track me down since she worked so hard to make me perfect??"
Those thoughts came and went so often, Betzalel knew she knew he was still alive because of the number of news channels that reported on the mass killings he was ordered to do by the government.
Betzalel slowly slips out of the bed, trying not to wake Yves, he grabs his military coat and a pack of fresh cigarettes. He then unlocks the room door and looks back for a moment before opening the door and walking out to go smoke.
Betzalel always hated cigarettes, but the nicotine helped to distract him from the crimes he had to commit. And he has hoped that they could shorten his long lifespan. He never wanted the power he had gotten but he also never wanted the 1000 year lifespan of the god-like creature he was stuck with. Betzalel never wanted to kill himself, he had just hoped that the people the government wanted would succeed at doing it. But the creature always made a shield to stop those hopes.
Betzalel opened the pack and pulled one out along with the lighter in his coat pocket, he then lit the cigarette and put it in his mouth while staring off into the woods around the building. And stuffed the lighter and now open pack of cigarettes in his pocket.
After a few minutes he rolled up the sleeves of both his coat and his pajamas. Revealing layers of bandages on both arms. He then began to undo them, underneath was just a bunch of dark scarring from how much he had used the power of the creature.
Betzalel hated not being in control so to use the power to its max ability he would have to cause himself damage in the process. Though if he had the choice he just wouldn't use the power at all since it was draining and always ended with him throwing up and unable to do much after. At least the regeneration worked fast otherwise he'd still be bleeding out.
The government wanted to make sure that every person they bought would've been worth their money so they'd use everything the person could do. Betzalel only had one knife unlike a lot of his coworkers who had collections of knives and guns. But it was to make sure Betzalel was gonna actually use the reason the government had picked him.
Betzalel knew though that he was closer to being sold off than most of the others here, he was disobedient and questioned orders, unlike when they had first purchased him.
He knew Yves was gonna be forced to stay in the government since he was useful and listened to orders. He never wanted to leave Yves as he was the reason Betzalel was even able to get out of being tested on, but he knew he'd have to suck it up sooner or later.
He took the cigarette from his mouth and signed hard. He then ran his right hand through his bangs and pinned them behind his ear. His right eye wasn't his, it hadn't been since he was 4, his 'Aunt' wanted to test the limits of what she could do, removed a few organs and stuff and replaced them from that of the corpse of the creature.
Betzalel thought the replacement for his actual eye was quite pretty, you could see a galaxy of colors and glitter within it. But he hated how he couldn't see out of it and how it could randomly start to bleed. He knew he was more of a corpse than a person at that point, but there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. All he could do was hope that things get better within the next at most 1980 years of his life,
"Living until the year 4000 would be so terrible--" he laughed to himself as the door opened and Yves came out, "oh, you're up, almost ready to go get some work done?"
"Ya"
#Literally just more Betzalel because I love him#he's so fun to write and draw#I'm probably just gonna spam stuff with him for a while tbh
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Turmoils Of You- Part 12
Sighs
"Ugh I'm so done with this shit. I'm gonna go crash. You do whatever you want man, just don't wake me up with a dagger over my neck. Trust me, I wake up a murderer myself so... yeah. Bye. Enjoy your night", my half dead ass announces and slams the bedroom door shut. I quickly bolt my door and throw myself over the bed before hiding myself in the quilts and closing the world off.
But, it doesn't right? The world, you can't close it. That's the way it's designed. Whenever you are on the top of the world, you'd wish to live every fucking second of it. But when you hit a rock bottom, woosh. Suicidal or um, drugs or whatever.
Drugs or whatever.
I can't deal with myself right now. Either I overthink about Jake or I get high. No in between. So, with this thought in my head, I move out of my room, popping only my head to see if Phil's there or not. Nope. No sign of the bartender.
I open my door slightly more and tiptoe and way to the front door, my shoes in my hand. Just as I open the door, a hand lands on my shoulder and I cringe.
"Knock knock", Phil says deadpan, no anger no disappointment, more like he anticipated me here long back. Slowly I turn back to him, my nose scrunched up. "Won't you say who?"
"Huh?"
"You know like, 'knock knock, whose this, the drug addiction..."
I look at him with the dumbest face humanly possible, not able to understand anything he said but still deciding to go with the flow. "Okay who?"
"No one! Because I'll kill the drug addiction you have. Come on, let's have coffee. Sit", he says, pulling me with my hand towards the kitchen stool and jerking my hand towards the seat. I let out a semi pissed sigh and sulk around the chair. I don't want to sit with him, he's very unlikeable and a flirt. I'm in no mood for that.
"I want to freshen up", I start. No reply. "I need to get my clothes." No reply yet again. "My bag is still in the SUV." Silence persists as he starts beating coffee in a cup. "I'm going to go get it." I finish this time and head for the door when he holds onto my wrist to stop me.
"Don't you dare go out. Take one of the tees from my bag for the time being. I'll get you your bag in a few minutes", he flatly states without lifting his eyes from the cup. If I wasn't so desperate to get rid of these clothes, I would have, and I mark, never worn his tee. But it is what it is, my shirt stinks of sweat so fuck it. I see his bag lying on the sofa, real mature Phil, and zip it open. Too many clothes. Where the fuck does he get the money to buy so many clothes?
"Woah. You own a freaking Armani tee? Who did you steal it from?", I quip at him as I continue as expedition.
"Oh that one? That's Angie's ex's. When they were... deep in each other, I picked it off the ground. It was fun when he had to run half naked when my mom caught onto their fun."
"Oh god. For real?", I stifle a laugh but fail and end up laughing way too hard that I have to wipe a stray tear from my eye. I notice him looking at me with his head slightly tilted to the side. Instantly, I let out a little cough and stop laughing. I take a plain black tee from his bag and hide myself in my bedroom.
Since it's only my tee that stinks, I keep my capris on while getting the stink machine off by back. Phil's tee still has a very distinct and strong cologne on, just like the way he normally smells. I put his tee on and notice how it reaches my upper thighs. God, what point wearing capris when they're gonna get hidden by his tee. Without further ado, I take my capris off to and sit on my bed. What? You thought I'll go in there with an oversized tee and panties? Pfft.
I plug my cell phone off from the lamp table and start scrolling with the messages. 200+ Damn. Despite that, my eyes just yearn for his message. Just... one message, please. I know he's offline but still, I can't help opening his chat and keep staring at his "I love you".
"MC!", I hear Phil say. What the fuck is that about? I jerk out of my bed in half a nanosecond and start scrambling towards my capris. Halfway pulling my capris up, the door slams open. Normally, this would be the part where I'd shriek but when I see the person in front of me, I freeze in my spot.
He's back.
#duskwood#duskwood jake#duskwood fanfiction#duskwood everbyte#duskwood jake x player#duskwood mc#jake x mc#duskwood jake x mc#duskwood turmoils of you
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Totally Spies (Valkyries) Chapter 13
@sunshinebingo @aelinchocolatelover
Once the boys departed the room, the girls raced into the living area and plopped onto the couch. Gwyn, who had her computer with her, placed her computer on her lap and opened it up. Taking out her flash drive, she slammed her AI into the computer. C3TR1N popped up on screen. “You called?”
“Hey, Cat. Listen, I need you to look at the Boss’s recent history with his cases.” Gwyn ordered. C3TR1N didn’t say a word and instantly got to work. It only took 2 seconds for her to pop up all the latest cases. “Done. Shall I go through the list for you?”
“No need Catrin. Just pull up the most recent one.” Gwyn replied as C3TR1N did just that. The case was marked as top secret in bright bold red. Gwyn clicked on the file and opened it up. Inside was a case file of a wanted man. He was tall yet showed signs of age. The girls could tell that he was a redhead but was showing some light patches of grey. His tone was serious but filled with defeat. The picture of him only showed his face but the girls knew that he was wearing a prison outfit.
“Who’s that?” Nesta asked from behind Gwyn. C3TR1N answered for her. “His name is Beron Vanserra. He was marked deceased in the Prythian prison. They say that he had committed suicide in an act to avoid further punishment. The crimes were theft, robbery, murder, man slaughter, first degree-”
“Catrin, that’s enough.” Gwyn interrupted as C3TR1N stayed quiet. “Yeah, we’re not looking for an old man who died in prison,” Emerie added with a sarcastic eye roll. C3TR1N pulled up another file. This time, it was a report. A rather long report. “This report came from....hmm, the name is not presented in the file.”
“It’s probably from Boss,” Nesta suggested. “Catrin, can you read the report for us?”
“Read it? That’s gonna take forever.” Emerie complained. “No, it won’t. It’ll only take a second.” C3TR1N replied to Emerie as she skimmed through the entire report file in less than 5 seconds. When she finished reading, she stopped at a certain point. “The report talks about a recent robbery that happened on Judith Street at Elain’s Bake and Cake. The shop has been closed for 2 days now. Perhaps that would be the best place to start.” C3TR1N suggested.
The girls looked at each other considering C3TR1N’s words. “Elain’s Bake and Cake. That bakery is only a couple of blocks away from the library.” Emerie said as Nesta raced towards her room without a word. Worried, Emerie and Gwyn bounced off the couch and followed her. They found Nesta looking out of her window. “There. Just beyond that intersection.” Nesta called out as the others looked at where she was pointing. It was the bakery. The bakery was patterned with vanilla and chocolate colors around the building. The logo was of an anime girl wearing a white shirt and black pants. She was holding a pink frosted cupcake and was winking at any costumers who would come by.
Like Emerie said, it was a couple of blocks from the library. However, it was only a walking distance from Prythian. “It’s not that bad. We can walk from here.” Nesta said as Gwyn raced back to the couch, realizing that C3TR1N was still waiting for them. “Thanks for the help Catrin.”
“It was my pleasure, Gwyn. Shall I disable the cameras so you can easily slip out of the building?”
“No need. I can handle that part.” Gwyn replied pulling out the flash drive and shoving it back in her pocket. “So, what now?” Gwyn heard Emerie ask as she and her looked at Nesta wearing a grin on her face. “Let’s suit up.”
----------------------------------
“Woah,” Emerie said tugging on the black turtleneck she borrowed from Gwyn.
The girls have all departed into their separate rooms to dress for their first-ever spy mission. Nesta told the girls to dress in something dark and unseen. Emerie didn’t pack any of those items, so she had to ask for something from Gwyn. The only black shirts she had were turtlenecks. Emerie didn’t mind, but she hated the necks of the shirts whenever they came in contact with her neck.
The girls have also snuck into the boys’ room to look for any sort of gadget they could find. There weren’t a lot of them, unfortunately. The only gadget they were able to find was a small microchip on top of Azriel’s nightstand. Gwyn explained to her friends that he was a tracking device. She connected the device into C3TR1N before they left.
Upon leaving, the girls were surprised about the lack of staff roaming around the building. So, they easily walked out of the building. It took 10 minutes to walk towards the bakery. When they laid their eyes upon it, they stood frozen in shock. The side of the building had a huge hole in the wall. Almost like someone blew up the wall when they went to steal from it. The building still smelled of old ashes and chemicals from the bricks.
Gwyn nodded in agreement. “That building looks like it’s been haunted,” she said her own turtleneck sticking to her skin. Nesta, who was clothed in a black sleeve shirt and black pants, gulped down her fear. “Come on, the sooner we get this over with the sooner we can go back and see what we find,” she told her friends as she took the first step inside the building. Hesitating, Gwyn and Emerie followed, getting a clear view of the bakery.
The bakery was dark. The tables and chairs were all on the floor, and each of the items like it was thrown across the room. Some of the chairs were covered in ash and smelled of smoke. The checkout counter had a left-behind cash register and cakes and treats were still on display for the customers to see. The floor was covered in crumbled bricks, its color bleeding into the ash that was left behind.
Emerie sniffed the air and plugged her nose, letting out a sound of disgust. “Smells like my dad’s room.”
“Isn’t your dad a drunk?”
“Yeah, but he use to smoke with his friends.” Emerie replied to Gwyn’s question.
Nesta looked toward the front of the bakery and noticed an orange spark of light. “Hmm.” she said walking toward the spark without saying a word.
The spark turned out to be a shard. It was tiny and had a jasper color to it. It was shaped like a crooked diamond, yet it was beautiful, nonetheless. The diamond’s light flashed into the shop, startling Gwyn and Emerie. The light landed on the wall and showed something strange.
It was a word. A word that the girls couldn’t recognize. “Gwyn, can you have Catrin translate it?” Nesta asked as Gwyn got out her flash drive and plugged it into her spy phone. She made sure to take a quick picture on her regular phone in case C3TR1N had a hard time reading it the first time. C3TR1N started to scratch and scatter a bit at the new device but was soon able to get used to it. “You’ve called?”
“Catrin, can you translate-”
“Warning! Warning! Low battery detected. Must shut down until further notice.”
“WHAT!?” Gwyn exclaimed at C3TR1N’s sudden change of mood. C3TR1N was usually charged up in the morning right after Gwyn plugs her up on her nightstand to go to sleep. Her AI should still be functional after only being used once. “Catrin, don’t!”
“Apologizes, Gwyneth. I am experienczzzz-” C3TR1N was unable to finish her sentence. The AI’s screen went dark and the only thing visible on the phone screen was the Prythian logo. “Catrin? Catrin!”
“I don’t think she’s gonna answer,” Emerie said rubbing the back of her head. Gwyn, sighing in defeat, shoved the phone back into her pocket. “It’s alright. I took a picture.” Gwyn said as Emerie suddenly let out a panicked scream. Gwyn and Nesta turned toward her direction. Gwyn gasped and covered her mouth while Nesta took a step back.
Just ahead of them was a man. He was tall. Taller than the boys. He was wearing all back and wore a ski mask over his face. However, this mask didn’t have any eye holes or a mouth hole. The man’s face was completely covered from head to toe. Not a single ounce of his skin was revealed. The man looked at the girls, even though they couldn’t tell, and pointed right at Nesta. Or rather the orange jasper shard she was holding. With a disguised voice, the man only said one thing: “Hand over the shard.”
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supernatural s6e6 you can't handle the truth (teleplay: eric charmelo, nicole snyder; story: david reed, eric charmelo, nicole snyder)
SAM
Well, it's a new, more caring administration.
😑
was biggerson's the place in the rabbit foot episode? that was more like chain diner. apparently the episode with famine and the restaurant was a biggerson's too
s3e3 bad day at black rock
i like that now dean is suspicious of sam, padalecki is getting more chance to be freaky. vibrating with excitement on getting the sister to spill the beans about the phonecall.
ookay. i dislike how regularly suicide is a plot device already. (but nic the people have to be dying somehow, just spicing up the mix) but this dude recounting SAing his friend's daughter as part of the case/plot/inducement to murder. really not a fan.
the first place with the cat calendar had some horn store, cursed brass instruments???
that man said the canadian/upper midwest sorry. i never know where they're supposed to be. oh, illinois.
CASTIEL
You asked me to be here, and I came.
DEAN
I -- I've been asking you to be here for days, you dick!
all right he said dick so vehemently, it made me laugh.
DEAN
What happened to you, Cas? You used to be human, or at least like one.
CASTIEL
I'm at war. Certain... regrettable things are now required of me.
cas is going through it right now
what. is this set/lighting/angle/very fake news ladies
BARTENDER
You okay?
DEAN
No, not really.
me either, dude
so. the beginning of the episode, the things that people were saying were so horrible i thought for sure it was like... "truth" curse but it's actually people voicing all of your worst fears or whatever. which lined up with the dentist thing. but based on bobby and the bartender's reactions...
i don't understand why dean doesn't tell lisa about the whole was turning into a vampire thing to explain wtf happened with ben? it doesn't change the situation, but at least there would be an explanation - and probably help her make the decision about dean. i mean he really fucked up there, bringing himself into her house in that moment. ugh.
LISA
You've got so much buried in there, and you push it down, and you push it down. Do you honestly think that you can go through life like that and not freak out? Just, what, drink half a fifth a night and you're good?
DEAN
You knew what you signed up for.
LISA
Yeah. But I didn't expect Sam to come back. And I'm glad he's okay. I am. But the minute he walked through that door, I knew. It was over. You two have the most unhealthy, tangled-up, crazy thing I've ever seen. And as long as he's in your life, you're never gonna be happy. That came out so much harsher than I meant.
sometimes i feel like they back off on the making it weird brother situation, but they've been going for it textually lately.
desktop background update, a subdued all black.
so being soulless is a get out of speaking the truth card too, that's handy.
oh look it's the overly fake tv person! shoulda known.
aw now they're doing the meadow scene with both of them. with bonus concussions, corpses and blood pools.
twilight / s6e5
okay so this woman playing veritas is familiar, and she was in s1e21 listed as hospital receptionist and i'm like you know what i'm pretty sure i took a screenshot of her when i was watching that episode! because i got her mixed up with the brown haired girl dean was so invested in getting sam to hook up with in the previous town.
s1e21 - serinda swan
she was in ballers too, which i did watch.
ballers (2017) s3e4 ride and die - serinda swan as chloe
DEAN
No. But what I'm good at... is slicing throats. I ain't a father. I'm a killer. And there's no changing that. I know that now.
VERITAS
So, Sam walking back into your life must have been a relief. Hmm? Mallory to your Mickey.
a) ouch, dean. we know him so yes of course more fuel for the self loathing fire b) mallory and mickey, of course. homicidal married couple from natural born killers. naturally. what'd i just say
okay so that answers some of my questions. sort of.
SAM
Ever since I came back, I am a better hunter than I've ever been! Nothing scares me anymore! 'Cause I can't feel it. I don't know what's wrong with me. I think... I need help.
again i'm not clear what range of emotion he does have, but he was doing the puppy eyes and while i am surprised dean is beating him to a bloody pulp, i'm not surprised he decked him.
(wiki)
The tongue Veritas eats was made of sashimi grade tuna.(source)
very fancy for an edible prop!
#supernatural#spnwatch#spn 6x06#serinda swan#ballers#hiky#spnhiky#eric charmelo#nicole snyder#david reed#robosam#twilight#spn desktop background update
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feel like a grumpy old conservative bitching about snowflakes but here goes. I saw a post complaining about a High School English teacher that she "didn’t send out or say anything that we were going to about talking about suicide" when the class was reading Hamlet... and... assuming she sent out a class sillabubs she did tell the parents you'd be reading Hamlet which is A) one of the most famous and influential pieces of writing in English and is B) over 400 years old so like.... its not unreasonable for her to figure parents are in general aware of whats in it? And just this whole idea that if any hard topic is gonna be handled, even in a 400 year old classic play we need 4-6 weeks advanced notice to the parents so they can what? say their kid shouldn't learn Hamlet? idk it just seems like it feeds the whole conservative book banning thing? I get suicide is a tough topic, but once we decide there are topics that are too tough to teach in school or need parent sign off before we talk about at all, like that goes nowhere good, I remember by 8th grade English class had to stop reading about a genocide because parents complained and like... are we collectively better people because we didn't study the Arminian Genocide? I doubt it.
Part of going through life is dealing with and learning about these kinds of situations, and it doesn't do anyone any good to be siloed and removed from reality - so you're right about this sort of thing going nowhere good. Authoritarians and conservatives want people to be selective and unexposed, want them to be easily shocked and easily upset.
Additionally, there are far more gruesome and directly accessible stories and information about things like suicide and murder, something the media in general isn't shy about covering and discussing - we have whole tv channels dedicated to that sort of thing now. There are even other books and stories that are available in English class that discuss suicide more directly and in more detail.
And yeah, Hamlet is one of the best-known Shakespeare and English literature pieces in the world, with its themes and story reproduced and displayed all over the place - it's like complaining that people need to know about murder being in the Bible.
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Man murdered his pregnant boyfriend then killed himself
A 26-year-old man in Florida allegedly shot and killed his eight-months-pregnant boyfriend, killing the unborn child as well, and then shot and killed himself, the Polk County Sheriff’s Office said.
Then, anti-LGBTQ+ activist Chaya Raichik, who goes by “LibsofTikTok” on Twitter, mocked the victim.
---
Related Stories
Suspect charged with murder in drugging & robbery of NYC gay man
Two other men have been arrested in connection with the string of crimes.
---
Riley John Groover of Winter Haven, Florida shot his boyfriend Camdyn Rider, 21, multiple times just after 7 p.m. on Friday evening outside of his neighborhood. Police said several neighbors witnessed the shooting.
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“When the suspect became enraged, family members and neighbors did everything they could to help [Rider] get away from him,” said Sheriff Grady Judd. “Please keep this family in your prayers.”
Rider was taken to a hospital, but medical professionals were unable to save the unborn child.
Groover and Rider were engaged and loved each other, according to Groover’s mother, who said that the two lived with her and had a “volatile relationship.” She said that her son took her gun, which she had in the house for protection, and used it in the murder-suicide.
Law & Crime confirmed the victim’s identity as a transgender man after local media misgendered him.
Newsweek reported that the victim’s Facebook had photos and videos of the couple, including a post about a gender reveal where he said that they were expecting a boy. He said that he was excited to marry Groover and they planned to name their baby Oliver John Lee.
“It’s crazy to imagine that I’m now gonna be a father, especially to a little boy,” the victim posted on June 19. “But man I’m so excited and couldn’t be happier, I couldn’t be happier to be doing it with you Riley Groover. Thank you for loving me, and thank you for this baby boy!! Oliver John Lee will be loved by many! I can’t wait for this journey with you my love. And I can’t wait to meet our oli bear.”
On Twitter, Raichik mocked the murder victim. Some of Raichik’s followers responded with laughing emojis and others posted Bible memes.
It's not enough to mock trans people, Chaya had to mock a trans man after he's been murdered.
She's a soulless bastard. pic.twitter.com/XkFZU5cr9r— Alejandra Caraballo (@Esqueer_) July 24, 2023
Deputies said that Groover had a history of violence but that prior domestic violence incidents involving Rider had not been reported to authorities.
His criminal record includes a 2014 incident where he admitted to firing a BB gun through the window of someone’s home. He then kicked a uniformed officer in the leg when he was being arrested. In a 2016 incident, he broke a bottle and used a hatchet to break several doors in his mother’s house.
In a 2018 incident, his mother called police after he got aggressive in an argument with his sister. He drove off and then came back and drove onto the front lawn while the sister was on the front porch, making her afraid he was going to run her over. He then pulled a knife on her and chased her with it and stabbed her. Prosecutors later dropped charges in that case when the sister signed a waiver saying she wanted Groover to get treatment for his autism and to take his medications.
If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org. The Trans Lifeline (1-877-565-8860) is staffed by trans people and will not contact law enforcement. The Trevor Project provides a safe, judgement-free place to talk for youth via chat, text (678-678), or phone (1-866-488-7386). Help is available at all three resources in English and Spanish. http://dlvr.it/Ssg4MC
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Twin Switch AU
Source: #ghosts-and-bats
I
amg I got this hilarious idea OK
Fenton family at like museum in Gotham or something, when one of batman's villains attack.
Well Jack accidentally grabs the wrong kid, in the panic. (Wrong kid could be any of the bats though Tim or Damian for full batfam dynamic kek.)
Dick or Bruce being in civilian form ends up with Danny because of the mix up.
-
Lol combine it with twin au and it make even more funny.
Dick probably don’t know what to do cause stuck with Danny inside building so just waiting on backup.
And noticing small things about Danny.
While Damien stuck with Fenton’s because they're not letting Damian slip away lol. Jazz is the one to point out they didn’t grab Danny.
ND
Dick : So....wanna play Uno?
Danny : ....
A
Dick imprints on Danny in 5 seconds flat
Damien tolerates Jazz because she's obviously the one with all the brain cells
E_P
Jazz: You do realize you just kidnapped someone else's kid?
Maddie: Don't be ridiculous, that's your brother.
Jazz: Look again
A
Both Damien and Danny are frustrated because the switch means they can't sneak off and play hero
I
Can see Danny slightly showing hints of his own heroism. while they’re in a hostage situation lol.
Yes, Jazz n Damian having to deal with parents lol. Jazz trying to converse with Damian lol
A
Dick, freaking out: Why does this kid show no signs of self-preservation? Does he have a death wish? Is he suicidal?
E_P
Jazz is meanwhile concerned about this kid having anger issues
A
Jazz: ...he keeps getting more and more upset. Is the stress getting to him? Is he having trouble processing possible trauma?
Dick is Brotherly Concerned(TM)
Jazz is going into Psychoanalysis Mode(TM)
S
Danny: oh no! Guess I should hide in this closet while you do your hero thing :)
Dick: don't worry kid I'm not gonna abandon you, I'll get you out of the building no problem
Danny: oh! Thanks! :)))))
L
Danny just wants this super friendly dude to leave him alone
S
Damian: I need to get out of this tank
Jazz: it's an RV
Damian: ......... (climbs toward the back window)
Jazz: I wouldn't-
Damian: (attempts to jump out at a tree only for a mechanical arm from the "RV" to catch him and put him back in.)...
Jazz: -do that...
S
Dick, picking up on Danny's contempt for this: (was it something I said???)
ND
man, I want to see how Dick would react when he found out Danny is half dead
ND
Dick: Did I fail? (self-loathing for sure)
S
-(Later when Danny's not in earshot)-
Tim: what did you do?
Dick: what do you mean?
Tim: I mean he obviously doesn't like you, you must've done something.
Dick: I didn't do anything!
L
He’s already imprinted, and Dick is so distressed about Danny not liking him
SK
And Danny's trauma induced electrophobia only makes it worse lol
L
It does because it’s not liking and downright having a fear of
Everyone is having a bad time except Tim who is happy to break them out and laugh at them grabbing the wrong children
S
Danny does like Dick, it's not his fault Danny keeps his distance for the most part, or startles at the sound of an electric weapon turning on.
It's just a little uncomfortable, and awkward, and Danny has heroing to do that he can't escape to.
L
Like Danny thinks he’s super nice and kinda fun to talk too but ahh electrified and will not let him leave
S
Then Batman shows up and Danny's stress about the situation goes up to new heights not thought possible.
L
Danny snaps and starts yelling at Batman
Dick is like he’s clearly not scared of you what the hell what did I do
S
Danny: ...!!!! Ok! You Can Let Me Go Now!
Batman: well, you were mistaken for Bruce Wayne's son, and you look alike, too alike.
Danny: (glares at Batman for the audacity)
Danny: Fuck it! I'm leaving! Just find me later! (Walks into a closet and slams the door closed)
Batman: (opens it to reveal empty closet)
S
If looks could kill Danny would have murdered him
I
Dramatic entrances and leaves run in the family lol
Probably snatched some DNA samples later lol run tests
L
Danny gets to his family just to find Damien who looks like him and is somehow even more upset
I
Damian meets Danny and is impressed that he escaped their watch.
L
Damian is impressed, Danny is absolutely flipping shit and just wants to leave
B
Jazz would be apologizing to Damian about all the inventions/weapons lying around, and Damian wouldn't hear anything past "weapons" and trying to figure out how stuff works. Jack and Maddie are happy "Danny" is interested. I think the weapons range would be involved.
L
They straight up just steal Damian
S
Danny: let me guess, You're the "Bruce Wayne's Son" that the Bat gang confused me for
Damian: they- .... I'll kill them.
(He thought he just straight up got kidnapped by idiots and thought the Bats would get him after the fight)
L
Damian refuses to leave out of spite
S
"They can come to me and face me themselves"
L
Danny just gives up
I
The Fenton’s just accept they have 2 Dannys lol
L
Great you’ll get along with Dani perfectly
They do
I
Give Dami weapons like sure boyo happy ur interested take what u want
B
also, the Fenton’s (at least Jack) have canonically put their house in another dimension. It would totally be plausible to them that Damian is an alternate universe Danny
S
And Danny dealt with the threat quickly because it was a ghost, he just did a quick punch'n'thermos and then flew home. Even Batman can't track a ghost without the proper equipment.
---- he second guesses this when Batman shows up at his house later, but they were just getting Damian so he's fine.
Damian coming home with an arsenal
S
Dick be like: wha- how'd you get here before us?
Danny, deadpan: hitchhiked in a racecar.
L
Damian still full of spite: Look at all these weapons my other parents gave me.
S
Batman: alright, what did you steal from those people
Damian: I'll have you know they gave me these willingly (unloads all the handheld weapons from his suit)
I
Lol no one believes him til Jack like oh and don’t forget this one boyo! It’ll vaporize any ghost into ash.
L
It’s a rocket launcher
Batman is confused
B
What if they gave Damian a hazmat suit?
L
They now have to convince Damian, they didn’t mistake him they were just watching the ‘civilian’. Do not go home with the crazy people
S
Bruce "adopts blue eye, black hair kids" Wayne getting Uno reverse carded by Jack "Dad Shaped" Fenton adopting his biological son (both of them!)
L
Tim is having the time of his life over the coms
Jason gets there late and so confused what did you do and why is Damian disowning us
Why is there two Damians
I
Until Jason hears about free weapons then like “Ah, my new family”
L
Tim heads out just to join the Jason and Damian in the new fam
I
It’s mostly just because it’s funny how huffy batman gets. he has to bribe them to come home
S
Danny doesn't help
L
Dick is asked if he wants to join too by Jazz, she thinks it’s funny
S
Batman tries bribing him and Danny's just like "idk B-Man I think he needs more incentive than that..."
L
Cassandra just goes and starts standing next to Jazz (where did she come from?)
I
Batman got out adopted by a family that calls all the black hair children Danny or girl Danny
L
It takes Batman a minute to realize these normal people shouldn’t have an Arsenal in the back of their vehicle
M/F
An arsenal or Arsenal the outlaw?
or: both
L
An arsenal
He Broke in when Jason mentioned laser guns
DS
another causality of their poor eyesight😔😔
L
They call him boy Jazz
DS
and eventually Damian talks about that’s they’re like and now the bats are just super concerned for these children
L
After they stop making fun of Batman
DS
he is so concerned for these rude, rude, weapon children
I
Lol yes gotta get over making fun of Bruce
S
AU where Danny's parents simply need a wake-up call but otherwise they're fine parents, and very eccentric
The bat-kids love the Fenton Family so much.
M/F
Honorary aunt and uncle
SK
I had to put my phone on the charger and walk away for a little while, but damn I love all of this so much. Just yes
S
Ok but what if they get really buddy-buddy to the point of the Fenton Family being in on the Batman family secret. (Fenton-Parents think Bruce Wayne is hilarious)
Vlad gets So Mad when he finds Bruce Wayne having tea with Maddie on a Sunday morning visit.
DS
Danny, having spent more time with Damian and Jason, just shoots Vlad point blank<333 /j
L
Just no hesitation
S
"Daniel what the FUCK is Bruce Wayne doing in your kitchen?"
Danny: omg you actually cursed, this is the best or worst day of my life. Depends on if you attack me now.
L
Also, he’s technically my dad so ha
S
[Vlad.exe has stopped working]
B
[Vlad.exe has overheated from confusion and rage]
R
Bluescreened
S
He just, fades away in front of Danny (bcz he's dramatic) so he can just kinda,,,, sit at home.
Maddie: oh, what did Vlad want to talk to you about?
Danny: he was just checking in
Maddie: is he still in your room?
Danny: no? he left, you must've just missed him :)
#dc x dp#danny phantom#danny fenton#damian al ghul#dick grayson#batman#bruce wayne#batfam#batfamily#jack fenton#maddie fenton#jazz fenton#discord shenanigans
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