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killrockabill · 3 years

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So, i just finished falcon and the winter soldier, and i gotta say i do t understand the extent of the hate for walker. Don’t get me wrong not a good guy, but honestly almost tragic imo.

He starts off as this kinda douche jock type who by no means would i enjoy an extended conversation with, but thats abt it at the start? With how strong the response was I expected him to be a bigot or something.

We see him EARLY on feeling the pressure of the title and admitting while its what he wanted he doesn’t know if he can be what people expect (hmm real life parallels)

He is polite enough to sam and bucky in the bulk of their early interactions and even points out that he gets why they don’t care for him. He overstep in a number of ways. He assumes that a smile and shield will automatically earn their trust and lashes out after it doesn’t work right away. He doesn’t just get that from them however he gets that on the job plenty too.

We bust his balls because he throws the title captain America around but like lets be honest its a badass title so in more casual convos can you really say you would t name drop here and there? Then the escalated situations at the end of the day hes trying to do a job. He’s like a new manager not getting taken seriously because hes new, yes, he does need to earn it but did he REALLY get an opportunity to? A job he’s not fit for and knows it. He talks about wanting to do the job ie be in the field because its what he knows and is good at. Hes steves monkey on the unicycle drawing at the earliest stages.

He mentions to Lamar that the medals they earned were for some fucked up shit. Which unfortunately isn’t uncommon in the military nowadays. He calls this out during his trial (is it a trial? Idk what youd call it) he wasn’t steve who disobeyed orders for the greater good he was a good soldier at the expense of being a good man. Is that ok? Does that excuse anything? No. Not even a little because of course not all vets are like that but its not like hed be the first and unfortunately not the last.

THEN his insecurities about not being able to measure up and do the job. He IS the job. There are plenty od people like that where the job is not just a job but a part of them and what do you do when thats slipping? How many of us were the smart or creative kid and found ourselves feeling inferior by running into set back after set back. What does he do to rectify this? He takes the serum. He takes it KNOWING it can change him. he doesnt just throw it back like a shot of whiskey. No, he passively runs it by his best friend and partner; his bucky. (The whole I’m the new cap and this is my emotional support bucky is a whole separate convo I’m not gonna get into) he mentions being afraid of how it could change a person. His friend who genuinely believes hes a good man and will do his best supports him (obvs not realizing this isnt just a hypothetical situation)

Then it happens, lamar is gone his rock the guy we see earlier in the show reigning him in when he starts to lose his temper or not see the big picture. Hes gone because john wasnt good enough. So his rock and best friend are gone hes pumped a chemical in himself that everyone knows amplifies everything good and bad. He was a time bomb that went off. From there he spirals we literally see a mental breakdown followed by an ass whooping. Hes fucked up at this point and fucked up is as fucked up does. Nothing during this time is acceptable but it was ...inevitable.

He is not a good person by default and it does not come easy. This issue is exasperated by his own inadequacy, the pressure of being captain america, loss both personal and professional. He doesnt have the luxury of fighting nazis eho are objectively bad. He’s fighting people who are themselves in a grey area. At the end we see a small embodiment of him where theres a truck of people who need saving and his target getting away, and what’s he do? Hesitate. Steve would never have hesitated but ultimately he chose tk try and save the people (and failed hmm more inadequacy. Personally i thing they should have given him the win but thats neither here nor there.) yeah he was out for blood and i cant say that if my best friend was murdered i wouldnt be either (also i wish they did more with “LAMARS LIFE DIDNT MATTER?!” Like maybe it would’ve been heavy handed but you know where im going with it)

Hes a man that the military failed. A good soldier at the expense of being a good man. He clearly wants to be steve but cant and if that aint tragic idk mang.

#falcon #falcon and winter solider series #falcon and the winter solider spoilers #fatws series #fatws spoilers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #john walker #us agent #character study #opinions #marvel #marvel comics #mcu

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obsessive-ego · 4 years

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Sweet dreams part 2

Part 1

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Nsft content

Reader gets a wet dream while sharing a bed with their good pal beetlejuice

Voyeurism, masturbation, dubious consent

It's been a few days since the whole wet dream episode, you can still remember it like it was yesterday, as twistedly hot and awkward as the while thing was, the real awkward issues were the following morning.

10am your phone buzzes, illuminating the room, the mattress shifts, as you reach for your alarm you hear beetlejuice groan "shut it off babes, 10 more minutes".

Youd normally agree to that, but after what he did last night youd like to change you pants, and wash the sheets.

"Sorry Beej, wake up, I got shit to do" you nudge him, hoping he would let you go, no dice, he groans and tightens his grip on your waist.

"Sweets, it's so warm here, you have the day off, humor me".

"Sorry, I need to be an adult today-"

"Oh sugar, you can easily be an adult in bed~" his gravely voice drops to that seductive tone that makes a shiver run up your spin, this bastard was gonna be the death of you, you mumble an apology and pull away from his grip. Slinking out of bed you grab a pair of clean pajama pants and head to the bathroom.

Beetlejuice sighs, he'll get you one day, he pats his crotch, feeling the wet spot from last night, did you not notice last night? Did he wake you? Probably not, as least he thinks so.

He couldnt help but smile remembering that dream, he dreamt of you often, last night was a good one, guess having your scent so close triggered a REAL juciey wet dream, he sighs completely content, the image of you bouncing up and down on his cock, being so pretty for him, saying how much you loved him while he played with your breasts. Of course he figured it was a dream and really escalated it, pounding up into you at a punishing pace having you in tears over how good it was, beetlejuice couldnt help but drool remembering such a fun dream, but now wasnt the time to rub out another one, maybe later. He perked up hearing clattering in the kitchen, meaning you were making coffee, with a snap of his finger he was right beside you, he must of caught you off guard cuz you visibly jump.

"Did I scare you sugar~?" He purrs

You dont respond, your face was red, being this close to beetlejuice after him cumming on your backside in his sleep was too much too soon, you felt so awkward and embarrassed you thought your heart was gonna burst

"I know, I know, you're not a morning person, I'll check again when the coffee kicks in yeah?"

The whole day you would flinch when beetlejuice touched you, you couldnt even look at him, you weren't mad, just embarrassed. But of course he took it as you were upset with him, the day was weird and awful, but you couldnt stop yourself, you kept thinking back to last night.

When It came to the time when beetlejuice had to leave, as Lydia was summoning him, you gave him a goodbye handshake instead of the hug you normally do, you immediately regret that choice, seeing the purple hue that has taken him over, and with that final image he was gone, nothing left but green smoke.

In the last few days you've had time to calm down, and release the built tension. But today was yours and beetlejuice scheduled movie night, he was quite down when he left because of your actions, would he even want to DO movie night with you anymore after how weird you were? You paced the floor, mind flooded with negative scenarios of how the best thing to ever happen to you would never want to see you anymore.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you phone started buzzing, caller ID lydia

You frown, and accept the call "hello?"

"What are you wearing?~"

You sigh, he was using her phone again "beetlejuice-"

"OH sugar you will be wearing me when I'm done with you~" he moaned

Knitting your brows together, not quite sure what he ment, but not wanting to know, before you could reply, BJ starts again

"So are we gonna do this or not? Babes you're giving me massive blueballs" in the back ground you can hear lydia yelling for her phone back and for you to hurry up and summon him.

Taking a deep breath and composing yourself you summon your friend, your apartment is filled with green smoke, you cough waving the smoke away, once the smoke cleared there stood beetlejuice, normally he would pull you around like a rag doll, or dramatically dip and kiss you as a greeting, but tonight he just stood there staring back at you.

You give him a soft smile "hey I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day, I wasnt feeling too hot, and I acted super weird, I'm sorry if-"

Beetlejuice pulls you into a tight hug, guess that's all he needed from you?

"Thank god slash satan, Babs said you were probably feeling sick, I was SO worried you were sick of me Dollface" he nuzzled his head into the crock of your neck, you audibly gasp while the ghoul babbles about how worried he was about losing your friendship, you felt so rotten about it, but it's in the past and you two can move on.

Movie night was the same as it was, enjoyable, you order pizza and Beej scares the piss out of the delivery guy, it was nice to be over the awkward bump.

As it got late you told beetlejuice you were turning in, you got changed in the bathroom out of habbit, returning to your bedroom you saw the demon in your bed motioning you to come hither, you could feel you face getting warm, memories of the last time you two shared a bed came flooding back, you take a deep breath and go over.

"Come to daddy sweet thing~" beetlejuice coos with grabby hands

"Gross" you utter as you slide in next to him, your bed was a twin so there wasnt much room for personal space. Without a second thought beetlejuice wraps his arms around your waist as he spoons you, nuzzling his face in your hair.

"So warm" he mumbles, this is gonna be a long night, you could already feel the heat building inbetween your legs, none the less you close your eyes and try to empty you mind in Hope's sleep will come fast.

...

Beetlejuice is woken by your squirming "what's up sweets? Gotta pee?" No response, he give you a gentle nudge, nothing, he chuckles, you must be dreaming. Your breathing becomes harsh, panting as you squirm a bit harder, bumping your rear into the demons crotch.

"Whoa sugar, you alright?" He whispers, you quietly groan, then it clicks, you were having a wet dream, the ghoul couldnt help but drool at this, here you were, his cute little breather about to become a hot mess in his arms, WHILE HE'S VISIBLE.

You begin whining, while you squirm, bumping your rear into BJ's crotch at a nice steady pace, the demon was over the moon with this, his hair so bright with excitement and arousal, the room was illuminated an electric pink.

"What are you dreaming of sweetheart?~" he purrs, as his hand traces your thigh. "Pretty mean of you to give me a boner like this sugar, hmmmm, is this revenge for cumming on that cute butt of yours the other day?~" he couldnt help but chuckle at that last part.

Bucking harder against him, beetlejuice bites his knuckles to keep himself quite, stifling a moan, fuck this was so hot, should he let you sleep, or wake you up? Waking you up could be a good thing, maybe you'd wake up feeling incredibly horny and need him to pound you silly, or more likely youd be sick to your stomach with embarrassment, the demon is pulled from his thoughts by your voice, a tad louder then before.

"Beej, please" you moan softly

"Sweetheart" beetlejuice gently nudges you, no response. "Sugar, relax let your old pal mr beebleboose help ya out~" he purrs softly.

Beetlejuice gently snakes his hand to the front of your panties, gently teasing the folds of your sex with a single finger, the friction alone made you whine and buck hard, beetlejuice carefully pulls you close to his chest, so his now hard dick is resting nicely against your butt.

"Alright, I got you, this is the least I can do sweets" he cooed stroking your sex, you whine and buck, bumping your rear into Bj's cock, the ghoul bits down on his knuckles to keep himself quiet, this was too good of an opportunity to ruin.

"Beetlejuice..... so good.... ah" you mumbled thrashing a bit harder, god slash satan did beetlejuice want to grind his cock into your ass, but he was already pushing his luck as it was with his hand on you crotch.

"Feels good doesnt it sweetheart? You like it dont you? Naughty little thing~" he whispered, he knew you liked him, he's herd it straight from your mouth, the few times he's watched you touch yourself, you spelled it out nice and clear, that being said he knew you were a coward with your feelings, that was fine for now, he could wait till you were good and ready to admit it yourself, but until that glorious day, beetlejuice didnt mind taking what satisfaction he could get from you.

This, right now, having you moan and buck from his touch alone, having you grind that cute ass against his cock was like heaven, or as close as a born dead demon was gonna get.

"Come on y/n, I know your close~ how bout you cum for your old pal mr beebleboose?~ cum for me sugar, give me all you got~" he purred stroking you folds with a bit more friction along the crotch of your panties, which were now delightfully wet, what beetlejuice would give to stick that delicious garment in his mouth, the thought alone made him drool.

"AH!" You moan out, buck your hips in a clumsy rhythm "beetlejuice...." you softly whisper as your movement slows to a stop and your heavy breathing slowly dies down to a more calming pace.

The demon smiles to himself, proud of what he did, more importantly feeling smug about how you said his name when you came.

"Was it good sugar? Did daddy make you feel good?~" he cooed "pleasant dreams babes" the ghoul whispered placing a gentle kiss on your head, you mumble something unintelligible, beetlejuice couldnt help but smile.

But now to a more pressing matter, you might have already came, but BJ, not yet, the demon slips away from your sleeping form. "You know how I am a gentleman sugar, I couldnt possibly jerk off in your bed with you there twice in one week" he chuckles. The ghoul glances around the room for something to help him out, a new cum rag for the collection, beetlejuice had no issue seeing in the dark, and went straight to your laundry basket, pulling out a freshly wore pair of black panties. He holds the cloth to his face, inhaling your delightful scent, then it hits him, his hand, the hand that ever so gently jerked you off, this was gonna be real good, he hummed to himself strolling out to the living room where he could get away with making alittle noise.

Bonus

Your phones buzzes, 10am

you groan reaching for the device.

"Good morning sweetheart" beetlejuice pulls you back into an embrace, weirdly giddy this morning "did ya sleep well? Have any pleasant dreams?~" he cooed

You knit your eyebrows together, were you talking in you sleep?

"I guess? I dont really remember" you mumble.

Beetlejuice gives you a big toothy grin in response

"Well doll, you were moaning out my name last night begging me to fuck you~" he laughs

You punch him in the shoulder, yeah you did feel tingly between the legs, but he had to be joking "I did not you ass"

The ghoul continues to laugh as you slip away to start your day. The dense ones were always the best in his opinion.

#beetlejuice x reader #muscial beetlejuice x reader #nsft

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foilfreak · 3 years

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Headcannons for my favorite One Punch Man rarepair: Golden Ball x Spring Mustachio

Both joined the Hero Association around the same time and knew of each other in passing, due to living in the same city, but didn’t officially meet until about 8 months in, and as a result of that, these two did NOT like each other at all during those first 8 months. Spring Mustachio thought Golden Ball was just another crass and reckless delinquent using heroism as a legal outlet for violence, and Golden Ball thought Spring Mustachio was an entitled rich boy who was probably paying his way up the hero ranks. When the two heroes were finally forced to formally introduce themselves to one another at the first annual Hero Association banquet, or some other equivalently pointless publicity stunt the Associacion probably put on at some point or another, they were shocked to find just how wrong their initial judgments of one another actually were.

Despite Golden Ball’s appearance, what with the bleach-blonde hair, slightly baggy clothes, tall, muscular frame, and the lollipops that Spring Mustachio correctly guesses are a substitute for cigarettes, Golden Ball is actually incredibly intelligent, having earned a master’s degree in chemical engineering (this particular headcanon is inspired by @batneko) from a highly prestigious university (currently considering going back for his PhD if he can save up the money), and all of his signature weapons are his own personal inventions. Likewise, Spring Mustachio, despite having the appearance and persona of someone who grew up having everything handed to him on a silver platter, had long ago rejected the escalator to success his parents had offered him in the form of taking over as head of their family business, in favor of going out on his own to explore the world and everything it had to offer, mastering the art of swordsmanship and opening his own restaurant (where even after hiring a decent sized staff, he still took up menial tasks such as washing dishes and serving guests) along the way.

After getting to know each other at that first meeting, the two heroes became surprisingly fast friends, their personalities mixing rather well together on top of having many shared interested, and even began hanging out outside of their hero duties, where they already spent a considerable amount of time together considering how frequently the Association paired them together for missions. Most of their time outside of work was spent at Spring Mustachio’s restaurant, engaging in casual, slightly teasing conversation over onion rings and a couple rounds of beer after a long day of hero work. Later on into their friendship however, it became much more common for Golden Ball to also come into the restaurant during the day to bother the older man during his shift, not that Spring Mustachio minded the company one bit, especially if it meant having a couple of extra hands available to dry the dishes he’d just washed. It eventually got to the point where it was pretty much common knowledge throughout the city that if Golden Ball wasn’t out on a patrol or sent away on a mission for the Association, the first place you ought to check if you’re looking for him would be Spring Mustachio’s. Likewise if it’s Spring Mustachio you’re looking for and the restaurant is a no-go, try your hand at getting ahold of Golden Ball, cuz wherever he is, chances are that Spring Mustachio is standing right next to him. Its a wonder how the whole city doesn’t start assuming the two are dating when they begin referring to each other as ‘Gold’ and ‘Spring’, during hero work, and exclusively by their first names when off the clock.

The two heroes remain nothing more than close friends for full year after their first meeting, and while both had developed more-than-friendly feelings for one another over that time, neither were planning on doing anything about it, not wanting unrequited feelings to potentially ruin the incredible friendship they’d formed, among the other internal struggles that come with accepting that you’re attracted to other men in a society that, although no longer criminalizes homosexuality, definitely still doesn’t view it in a positive light by any means. Spring Mustachio has been in the closet his whole life and plans to keep it that way to avoid the potential social backlash. Golden Ball on the other hand didn’t realize he was bisexual until grad school and has since only managed to work up the courage to come out to his (thankfully incredibly supportive) family and closest childhood friends. Needless to say neither of them were in the headspace to even think about confessing, especially when they had so much to lose should it not go well, and both heroes were content to simply let their feelings die out over time if it meant that their friendship would remain intact.

Things change however, when Golden Ball’s place gets totally trashed in a monster attack, and the younger man finds himself staying with Spring Mustachio at his house until it can be repaired. Now not only do both men have to deal with their budding feelings for one another, but they also have to deal with their budding feelings for one another while also figuring out how to coexist in the same space, made even more interesting by the fact that Golden Ball has two pitbulls, Gizmo and Tonka, and Spring Mustachio isn’t the biggest fan of dogs (spoiler: Spring Mustachio falls in love with the sweet little puppers and spoils them absolutely rotten, much to Golden Ball’s amusement). Over the couple of months it takes for Golden Ball’s apartment to be fixed the men learn several things about each other that never would have come to light in any other context, including, but not limited to: Spring Mustachio’s extensive collection of alcohol bottles from all the drink’s he’s tried over the years (and of course all the stories that come with those bottles), Golden Ball’s horrific nicotine addiction being the result of an undiagnosed anxiety disorder that got BAD toward the end of undergrad and was forced to come to an end when he had a heart attack at 25, the tumultuous relationship Spring Mustachio has had with his family (specifically his parents) since breaking away from the plan they had created for him, the fact that Golden Ball is easily the biggest nerd that Spring Mustachio has ever met (and probably the smartest too), the brief run Spring Mustachio had as a competitive fencer in his early 30s that Golden Ball thinks he should get back into, the adorable way Golden Ball talks to his dogs when he thinks no one is listening, and so much more.

These things of course only cause their feelings to worsen and the situation just continues to spiral out of control from there. Im torn over whether I want them to actually get together in like a nice, mature way, like they ultimately end up talking abou their feelings to just get them off their chests, you know like adults, or if i want them to confess after getting into a huge fight, like maybe one of them got really hurt and some things they didnt actually mean were said and so they didn’t talk for a bit but then they end up tracking each other down and confessing after the tension finally snaps or something like that. I’ll leave that up for you all to decide but what i will say is that they get together just as Golden Ball’s apartment is finished being rebuilt, but with his lease being up at the end of the month and having already settled rather comfortably at Spring Mustachio’s place, he decides not to renew the lease and just stay where he is, much to Spring Mustachio’s delight.

As for their families, Spring Mustachio tells only his older sister and younger brother, who are confused, but ultimately supportive and happy that their brother found someone he truly loved and wanted to be with. His parents end up finding out somehow and while they aren’t exactly thrilled about it when they first learn that their eldest son is dating another man nearly 20 years his junior, they are, to their credit, polite and avoid making any inappropriate comments on the rare occasions he and Golden Ball do agree to visit the estate for dinner. Golden Ball initially only tells his parents, but things rarely stay secret for very long in his family, and not even a week goes by before his grandparents are calling asking if he’ll be bringing his new boyfriend to the cookout at the end of the month. Spring Mustachio has a fantastic time meeting the plethora of grandparents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, and close family friends that make up Golden Ball’s wonderfully lively family, though he does end up getting thrown into the pool by Golden Ball’s older brothers at some point, as is custom treatment for “new members” of the family. He doesn’t seem to mind all that much, especially when Golden Ball’s mother finally breaks out the baby pictures and he gets to coo over how adorably plump his boyfriend was as an infant, much to said boyfriend’s growing embarrassment.

For professionalism’s sake they decide to keep the relationship on the dl and though the two are rarely seen apart, they save the more intimate moments and actions for behind closed doors. No need to give the press an excuse to start shit.

Let me know what you think of my headcanons and what your headcanons are for this rarepair if you have any!!!

#one punch man #opm #golden ball opm #golden ball one punch man #golden ball #spring mustachio opm #spring mustachio one punch man #spring mustachio #mine #headcanons #golden ball x spring mustachio #golden mustache #ship

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behind-the-hood · 5 years

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Date

Damen and Jokaste have been dating for a few years now. Damen sees Jokaste getting all dolled up and wearing a sexy red dress, but he knows they have no plans tonight. He asks her about it.

"I've got a date tonight," she says as she puts in her earrings.

Damen...doesn't know how to react to that.

"A date." He reiterates. "You have...a date."

"Yes Damen, that's what I said."

Jokaste kisses his cheek as she walks out the bedroom. Damen chases after her and catches her at the door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean a date?"

She smiles, amusement shining in her eyes. "I'm seeing a coworker's younger brother so he doesn't have to explain to his parents that he's gay. Nothing to worry about."

She slips from his arms.

Damen learns a lot about Laurent after that. Auguste's little brother. Auguste's gay brother. Auguste's hot brother.

Auguste never told Damen he had a brother.

Damen can understand why after meeting him.

Jokaste asked Damen to give her a ride to their meeting point since her car was in the shop. Damen obliged, more than a little suspicious of the "gay" guy using his girlfriend.

Seeing a carbon copy of Jokaste standing beside Auguste was not who he expected.

Seeing all three of those beautiful blonds beside each other was like a wet dream come true.

Damen did not hang around.

That was the start of the fighting between him and Jokaste.

It started off small, over who would wash the dishes that night or what movie they would see at the theater the next weekend, then it escalated to how much her shopping cost them or how much time he was spending with the guys.

Jokaste started sleeping at a friend's house, and Damen started going out drinking with Nik more.

The break up should have been vicious, considering what lead up to it.

It wasn't. They were both very mature about it, and Damen agreed to move out because it was her apartment first. She even helped him pack, though whether that was out of the kindness of her heart or to get him out of her apartment faster is anyone's guess.

Auguste let him move in until he could find his own place.

Laurent spent a lot of time at Auguste's apartment, whether Auguste was there or not. Sometimes Laurent would sit around and read while he and Auguste played videogames together. Other times Laurent would come over during the night and make some food in Auguste's kitchen.

Damen didn't know why he came to Auguste's in the middle of the night to cook, but when he got up for water during the night and found Laurent cooking, they would chat. Laurent occasionally even let Damen help if he was feeling amiable.

Jokaste was still seeing Laurent, but he's pretty sure she's seeing Auguste too. Either that or Auguste has grown incredibly uncomfortable around Damen and is around the house less often for some reason he won't tell Damen.

Auguste is definitely seeing Jokaste.

Laurent's drunk one night and laying on Auguste's couch, a movie playing but going unwatched.

Laurent would normally be cooking, maybe baking, if he were over at this time of night. But tonight, he stumbled in, loud enough to wake the dead, and crashed onto the couch and has yet to move.

Damen sat beside him, gave him a glass of water that he didnt touch, and has been rubbing Laurent's feet since.

Laurent reeks of griva. He looks like he's sleeping with his eyes open. Damen is admittedly a little worried. He'd get Auguste, but he hasn't returned home yet.

"How do you know if you're in love?"

Laurent, drunkly, rolls onto his back. He stares at the ceiling and folds his arms over his stomach. Damen wonders if he's going to throw up.

Damen doesn't get a chance to answer before Laurent continues on.

Eyes squeezing shut, he looks pained as he whispers, "My dad's gonna kill me."

Damen doesn't know how to help. His parents had been perfectly accepting of his coming out. Damen hasn't met Auguste's parents, but Auguste didn't have positive things to say about his father.

Laurent groans.

Laurent did throw up, luckily only on the floor and he just missed Auguste's white rug. Damen carried Laurent to his bed, laid him on his side, and placed a bowl on the bedside table before he went to clean up the barf.

When Laurent finally gets out of bed that morning, Damen has breakfast cooking and some pain pills and a glass of water on the table waiting for him.

Laurent drinks his water and takes his pills and stares unblinking at the wall across from him.

Damen places a plate of french toast in front of Laurent and offers him a smile.

Laurent goes pink cheeked and stares down at his plate.

That's when Auguste decides to return home.

Damen says nothing about him smelling like Jokaste's perfume and simply directs him to Laurent, moping and nursing a hangover.

It becomes more and more evident that, while he's trying to be polite, Auguste is pushing for Damen to make a move on Laurent.

Damen is baffled by it. Auguste was so protective of Laurent that he didn't even mention Laurent's existence in the five years they'd known each other, and now he's trying to set them up?

Damen decides to sit Auguste down after he tries to convince Damen to go to the movies with Laurent. Laurent, who has made himself scarce since the night he showed up drunk.

"Auguste," he starts, letting out a sigh. Auguste is tense beside him. "I don't know if this is out of some misplaced guilt for seeing Jokaste--"

"You know about that?" Auguste's eyes are wide.

Damen offers a rueful smile. "Yes. And it's okay."

Auguste blinks at him, his eyes darting away. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I meant to, I just didn't know how."

Damen places a hand on Auguste's shoulder. "Look Auguste, it's okay. I just want you to be happy. And if she makes you happy, then I'm with you one hundred percent."

Auguste meets his eyes again, a smile creeping back onto his face.

Damen continues. "But you don't have to set me up with your brother just because you feel bad about--"

"No, no, no! That's not what I was doing!"

Damen raises a brow at the exclaimation. Auguste comes back to himself, and then he turns red.

"You can't tell Laurent I said anything," Auguste tells him, voice barely a whisper. "But he--"

The door to the apartment opens then, revealing Laurent. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Auguste?" Laurent isn't looking at them and he scuffs his foot against the floor. "Can I talk to you?"

Auguste shoots a look to Damen before he stands with a smile. "Of course! Anything for my baby brother!"

He wraps Laurent into his arms and smothers his head with kisses, despite Laurent's shoving and protests.

Damen has a feeling he knows what Auguste was going to say.

Damen ended up inviting Laurent to the movies with him.

Laurent had gone beet red, said no, and run out the apartment door.

Damen had to finish cooking the food Laurent left behind.

Laurent didn't come back over for a whole two weeks, but Auguste has been in a much better mood since the Jokaste reveal.

Damen is happy for them, really.

When Laurent finally shows back up, he's drunk on griva again. He slams straight into Damen when he makes for his bedroom.

Laurent groans into Damen's chest. Then he mumbles words that are lost into the fabric of Damen's night shirt. Normally he'd sleep nude, but Auguste kept the house far too chilly for that.

"Laurent, I can't hear you with my shirt in your mouth."

Laurent goes boneless against him, so Damen takes pity and helps Laurent onto his bed. Damen will evidently be sleeping on the couch tonight.

Laurent looks up at him, blue eyes bleary, and says, "You're really hot."

Damen chuckles. "Yeah, I've always put out a lot of body heat, sorry."

Laurent frowns. "No, that's not what I meant," he whines. "You're so oblivious Damianos!"

Laurent throws himself onto the bed and curls into the covers.

Damen can only smile at the display and head for the couch.

"Auguste?"

Laurent is at the door, tears rolling down his face and a red mark on his cheek.

Damen and Auguste are on high alert the moment they see him.

Laurent falls into Auguste's open arms the moment he's there and starts to cry. Damen frets from the sidelines.

"Laurent, what happened?" Damen asks, rubbing Laurent's back.

"I told Dad, that-that I'm gay...and he hit me!"

Auguste goes from worry to shock to rage frighteningly fast.

He passes Laurent to Damen, departing with a pet to Laurent's head and a threat to maim their father.

Laurent continues to cry, though quieter now, little hiccups jostling them both from time to time.

Damen walks them over to the couch and sits Laurent down.

"I'm going to get you an ice pack for your cheek."

Laurent nods and stares at his feet. He sniffles.

When Damen comes back, Laurent has stopped crying, but his face is void of emotion. Damen squats in front of Laurent and holds the pack to his cheek, gentle for the bruise and wrapped in a cloth so the ice doesn't hurt his skin.

"For what it's worth," Damen tells him, his voice low between them. "I'm really proud of you."

Laurent meets his eyes. Damen gives him a small smile, hoping to cheer Laurent up even a little. All he gets is Laurent's eyes watering up again.

Damen feels panic crawl up his spine. He didn't mean to make it worse.

He's about to start spilling out apologies, when Laurent's arms come around his neck and pull him close.

"Thank you Damianos."

Damen wraps his arms around Laurent's waist.

By the time Auguste gets back, it's late and Laurent has fallen asleep in Damen's bed, where he's taken to sleeping when he's over here.

Auguste drops heavily onto the couch beside Damen.

"How is he?"

Damen passes Auguste his beer, "Sleeping. Better, I guess. He said your mom took it better than your dad. She was mostly upset about losing Jokaste?"

Auguste takes a swig, passes back the beer, and nods. "She'll be pleased Jokaste is still around I suppose."

They pass the beer back and forth between them until it's empty, and stare at the tv for a while.

"I punched my dad."

Damen looks over at Auguste, but he's as blank faced as Laurent was.

"What did he do?"

Auguste shrugged. "Pretty sure he's disowning me and Laurent. But our mom still loves us."

Damen gets up and grabs two more beers from the fridge. "I'm sorry man."

"Don't be. I make plenty of money, and Laurent doesn't need someone like that in his life. I can take care of us just fine."

Damen nods and they sip their beers.

Damen crashes on the couch that night and Auguste leaves to see Jokaste.

Laurent spent a very long time talking to his mom on the phone the next morning, mostly about Jokaste.

Being assured that Auguste was dating her cheered Hennike up a little. Asking if he was seeing anyone cheered Laurent up a little.

Laurent had cast a glance Damen's way, a flush to his cheeks, and said it was complicated.

Damen continued with breakfast, a smirk on his face. Complicated. Okay.

Damen convinced Laurent to go to the movies with him that night. Laurent rejected just as quickly as he had before, but he didn't run out of the apartment. Damen managed to get him to go anyway.

It wasn't much, just a start, but Laurent smiled the whole time.

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hysterialevi · 5 years

Text

Abraham - A RDR2 Fanfic

Fanfic summary [NO SPOILERS]: Lyle Morgan and his eleven-year-old son have a conversation about Beatrice’s death, only for the boy to witness a second one.

Warning(s): Mild language

Author’s note: Bear with me if not everything in this story is correct. I’m not entirely sure where Arthur’s originally from (all I’ve heard is that he’s from somewhere in the north), so I just made something up lol. Also, this fic will only be one part. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

From Lyle’s POV

A FOREST SOMEWHERE IN MONTANA

SUMMER, 1874

Strollin’ through the tall, thick grass, I led my mount around the forest at a casual pace while my son sat on top, consumed by his journal as always. It was an hour or two before midday, and right now, there was a radiant blanket o’ sunshine bathing the entire forest, painting everything with a golden tint. It was beautiful, and I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day out here...but this feeling of annoyance just wouldn’t stop naggin’ me, and I knew exactly why.

I briefly glanced over my shoulder, peering at my son as he scribbled something down in the weathered pages of his journal.

A quick sigh escaped me.

I didn’t know who the hell Arthur got his interest in art from, or why Beatrice even bothered buying him that book, but that child just couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from it. Every time I came across the boy, he was always scratchin’ down some fantasy world of his, or creating images of a utopia I ain’t ever seen. It was pointless.

He spent more time daydreamin’ in that book than he did playing outside, or hunting, or fishing -- hell, he didn’t even know how to read -- and yet, Beatrice seemed perfectly content with it.

Or at least...she did.

Beatrice weren’t around no more. She was killed by bandits a few months ago. Robbed. Left on the side o’ the road for the crows to feed on. But Arthur didn’t know that. Sheriff told him it was a wild animal that took her. A wolf, to be exact. And he believed him.

I dragged a hand down my face, suddenly feelin’ exhausted just thinking about it.

Had I done the right thing, not tellin’ Arthur the truth about his own mother’s death, I wondered? I figured the kid didn’t need to know the morbid details, or even the entire truth, but I still felt like a piece of shit for not revealing the full story -- especially considering that them bandits who killed Beatrice...killed her ‘cause of me.

I had stolen something from them. Somethin’ valuable. And before it fell into their dirty hands, that “something” apparently belonged to a rich plantation owner who really wanted it back. Ended up gettin’ one of the bandits hanged, and left them thirsty for revenge. But they didn’t have the strength to go after the plantation owner. So, they came after me instead.

They chased me for quite a while. They chased me across the mountains, across the swamps, across the goddamned snow...until finally, they came to their senses and realized there were much better, more convenient ways of hurtin’ me. And thus, their paths diverted to my wife and son.

Those bastards managed to corner her while she was ridin’ to town to do some shopping. Found her on some secluded road between here and the nearest settlement, and ensured she would never return. That was when Arthur went lookin’ for help to find his missing mother hours later, and the sheriff assured him a wolf had gotten to Beatrice.

Christ. I really was a terrible father, weren’t I? Not only did I pay more attention to a bottle o’ whiskey than my own wife, I had also neglected Arthur for years on end, and indirectly gotten his mother killed. And the boy was only eleven.

He had spent half of his life not knowing a damned thing about where his daddy was, or even what he did, only to lose the one parent he already had before he could find out.

Lord...there had to be some way to make this up to him.

I looked back at the boy, suddenly feeling an urge to say something -- anything -- to him.

“Arthur,” I called out, catching the kid’s attention as his head perked up from behind the journal’s pages, “put that damned book away for a moment, will you?”

The boy hurriedly marked his place in the journal with a pen and shut it closed, resting the object on the saddle’s surface as he hung his head low in shame.

“...Sorry, sir.” He murmured.

I shook my head, lettin’ out a concerned breath.

“You spend far too much time in that journal. It was a mistake to buy it.”

Arthur’s eyes wandered to the trees towering around us.

“I’m sorry, dad,” he apologized timidly. “But I like drawing.”

I scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I like Poker. But I ain’t got time to play it. Too busy worryin’ about survival, and keeping the both of us fed. You can’t always do what you want, Arthur. You gotta provide. Things like drawing, gambling...they’re frivolous. We got better things to worry about.”

The child quirked a brow. “Friv-uh-less...? What’s that mean?”

“It means we don’t need to do it,” I explained. “What we do need, however, is to eat. So put that journal away and keep an eye out for deer. You was the one who suggested we come out here in the first place.”

Arthur frowned in a discouraged manner. “Yes, sir.”

I gave him a stern nod. “Good boy. Now...you said you seen a big buck out here?”

The boy pointed ahead. “Yeah. It was by the river.”

I gave the reins a little tug, urging my horse to follow me. “Then that’s where we’ll start. C’mon, Boadicea.”

Continuing our little hunting trip, Arthur and I traveled deeper into the lively woods as creatures of all types scurried around us, rustling blades of grass and alerting the tiny insects that hovered above the plants.

There was a rather peaceful mood to the forest today -- a welcome change considerin’ how chaotic my life usually was -- and I had to admit: some part of me enjoyed being here with Arthur. I rarely ever got to see the boy because of my work as an outlaw, and when I did, he always seemed reluctant to leave the house. Whether that was because he was more of an indoors person, or simply ‘cause he weren’t eager to spend time with me -- I didn’t know. But it was good to be with him regardless.

Approaching the large river, I came to a temporary halt as I crouched down and examined the ground, carefully searchin’ for any tracks that could’ve possibly led us to the buck.

The area here appeared undisturbed -- save for the fish flopping in and out of the babbling water -- and as far as I could tell, there weren’t no deer running around this section of the forest. Not at the moment, anyway. Maybe they were at a different part of the river.

I took a closer look at the grass, only to be torn away from my thoughts when Arthur raised a question.

“Dad?” He asked softly. “Can I...can I ask you something? About momma?”

I paused, thrown off-guard by the sudden change in tone.

“Momma?” I repeated, slowly turning towards the boy. “Why you wanna talk about her?”

Arthur’s expression sank with sorrow.

“It’s just...you knew her better than I did. Or longer, I guess. And I don’t remember her that good. ...Do you?”

I gazed at him in a puzzled manner, admittedly still a bit taken aback by the abrupt question.

“...Clear as day,” I replied, unwilling to sift through the painful memories. “But that don’t matter. She’s...she ain’t coming back, Arthur. No one does, once they die. Ain’t no point in lingerin’ in the past when it can only haunt you. All we can do is move on. You understand?”

Clearly a bit hurt by my response, Arthur dropped the subject and averted his eyes from me, peering over at a nearby gathering of flowers instead.

He slouched despondently. “...I understand.”

That wasn’t good enough for me. I took a step towards him.

“Look at me when you say that, Arthur,” I demanded. “It’s important you look people in the eye when you speak to them.”

The boy brought his line of sight back to me, his face veiled behind a very subtle layer of fear.

He straightened his back a bit. “I understand.”

I nodded in approval. “Good. Now...let’s get back to huntin’ this buck. You sure it was around the river?”

Arthur gazed around. “I saw it this morning when I was playing with Copper,” he confirmed. “It was drinkin’ water right here. That’s when I came to get you.”

I observed the dirt underneath me, squinting my eyes as I searched for clues. The grass in these parts was quite thick, so that made it even tougher to spot fur, or dung -- and I still didn’t see any deer tracks -- but it certainly looked like another animal had been around here.

I kneeled down, shuffling the grass outta the way with my hand.

“It looks like some wild horses might’ve passed through this area,” I examined. “But no sign of deer. Oh, well...the day is still young, and we have some time, so we’ll keep looking.” I gestured to a nearby bridge. “Let’s try over there.”

Grabbing my horse’s reins, I continued to guide it through the woods as Arthur scouted the area for me, his big blue eyes scanning the sharp horizon while the sun escalated in the sky. There was a certain determination in his temperament now, and the longer we carried on trying to locate this buck, the more my son seemed to be enjoying himself.

Perhaps there was hope for us, after all.

“...Dad?” The boy called again, making me flick my eyes to the side. “What if there are wolves out here?”

I encouraged him to stay calm. “Now, don’t you go worryin’ about that. If we see wolves out here, we’ll be fine. We’re armed, we’re fast, and we’re smart.”

Arthur wasn’t convinced. “...Momma was smart.”

I sighed in a melancholic tone at that. “Yes...she was. But...Momma was killed by a different type of wolf.”

He tilted his head in a puzzled manner. “What d’you mean?”

I gestured to my rifle. “Not all wolves are the same, Arthur. Some use their teeth, some use their guns, and some use their tongue. You gotta be able to identify them when you see ‘em.”

The kid didn’t say it flat out, but I could tell he knew what I was really talkin’ about.

“Those sound more like people.” He replied. I let out a gentle chuckle.

“People can be worse than wolves, Arthur. In fact, I’d prefer a wolf over some o’ the people I’ve met.”

Arthur leaned forward in the saddle, his body swaying along with Boadicea’s steady speed.

“What kinda people have you met?”

I lowered my voice, thinking back to the bandits who killed Beatrice.

“Killers. Thieves. Deceivers. Men who will constantly betray each other even though they share the same motive: greed.”

I turned to Arthur with a remorseful look, hopin’ to do at least one right thing in my life, and use myself as a cautionary tale that money weren’t as clean as it seemed.

“...Greed,” I told him, “it breaks people, Arthur. They may not realize it, ‘cause greed can get you far in this world...but the reward ain’t worth it. Not compared to the things you have to sacrifice. In the end, you’ll have tons of cash, only to realize that there are luxuries not even millionaires can afford.”

His innocence took over. “Then why do they do it?”

That was a question I asked myself everyday. I shrugged in a disheartened fashion.

“Because they don’t care. So long as their pockets is heavy, and their bellies is full, they’ll keep on going. But like I said, greed poisons you. It kills you. And you won’t even notice until you’re already sittin’ in a grave. So promise me, Arthur, promise me that when you get to my age...you won’t become a wolf.”

Despite evidently bein’ a little confused, the child was able to make some sense of what I just said and agreed to the promise, reassuring me with a small smile.

“I promise.”

“Good boy,” I praised, bringing my mind back to the main reason we came out here. “Anyway, here’s the bridge. Why don’t you hop down and help me find this buck?”

“Okay.”

Sliding down the saddle, Arthur effortlessly climbed down and joined me, scurrying ‘round like a mouse while he searched for any signs of the buck. But so far, there was nothing in sight.

“See anything?” I checked. The boy shook his head.

I wiped some sweat off my brow, letting out a fatigued sigh. This animal was certainly proving to be a challenge to hunt down. We had already been in this forest for a couple hours now, and our efforts still hadn’t paid off. Part o’ me was almost starting to suspect if Arthur even saw a deer in the first place, and not some other kinda animal.

I decided to take a short break, and turned to ask the boy.

“You positive the buck was roamin’ around in these parts? Or that it was a buck at all? I haven’t seen any tracks so far.”

A soft rustle suddenly reached my ears, interrupting my conversation with Arthur as I reached for my gun, only to be stopped by a sound I didn’t expect.

It was a man’s voice.

“...Don’t even think about it,” the stranger warned, cocking his own gun. “I will shoot if necessary.”

Freezing at the intrusion, I remained perfectly still and didn’t utter a single word as a pair of footsteps steadily approached me from behind, followed by two more men coming in from the front on horseback.

They were all dressed in similar outfits donned with Nevada hats, and I couldn’t help but notice the star-shaped badges shimmerin’ blatantly on their chests.

Shit. These were lawmen. What the hell were they doin’ out here? I never expected the law to travel this far into the country. This was definitely odd.

What really puzzled me though, weren’t the fact that there were three lawmen just...waitin’ for us out here -- it was more the fact that Arthur didn’t seem phased by any of this in the slightest. Just what exactly was goin’ on?

Trotting closer to me, one of the mounted men glowered in my direction as he ordered his deputy to restrain me, his firm, steel eyes never wavering.

I recognized him instantly.

“...Sheriff Buchanan.” I muttered through gritted teeth.

He returned the greeting, scowling from under his hat’s rim.

“Lyle Morgan.”

I shrugged at him, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“What is this shit? What’s the sheriff doing all the way out here?”

Buchanan glanced at Arthur, standing in front of him in a protective manner.

“I told you I’d use every option I had to get you behind bars, Morgan...and I meant it. You made the choice not to heed my warning.”

Taking a second to process what he just told me, the realization suddenly hit me like a bullet to the gut as I stared at Arthur with a sense of immense betrayal, unable to believe what was happening.

There never was no goddamned buck.

Things was never gonna work out for me and Arthur.

This was all a trap.

My own...son...had turned me in.

He was the bait, and Buchanan was the true hunter.

I clenched my jaw in rage, doing my absolute best to shield my emotions as the deputy kicked me to my knees.

“...A-Arthur...?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

The boy looked me straight in the eye, standing adamantly beside Buchanan as his deputies tied me up. I threw a glare at the sheriff, damning him till my last moments.

“You bastard, Buchanan...!” I cursed. “You turned my own damned son against me...?!”

The man showed no guilt and tightened his grip on his rifle, silently advising me to stay back.

“No need,” Buchanan denied. “You drove him to me all by yourself.��

He placed a gentle hand on Arthur’s shoulder and guided him towards the second deputy, ordering them to bring him back to town.

“Clayton, bring the boy back to the office. We’ll figure out where to send him later. For now though, just keep him safe, and look after him.”

“Right away, Sheriff.”

Preparing both his horse and mine for departure, the deputy left Arthur next to the sheriff as the boy stood firmly in place, his innocent yet damaged gaze never leavin’ mine.

Despite the hint of remorse clouding the child’s eyes, it was pretty obvious Arthur felt he made the right decision in turning me in. And just as Buchanan’s second deputy started to drag me away, I couldn’t help but notice a beautiful Whitetail buck wanderin’ around in the distance, its majestic antlers standing out like a crown on a monarch’s head as it bathed in the golden sunlight.

The animal swayed its head in my direction, almost as if trying to communicate with me.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Arthur whispered as he walked towards Clayton, blocking the buck in the process. “...But you made me promise.”

Taking his leave, the boy finally mounted up and steadily trotted away from the scene, only to reveal an empty spot where the buck once stood as he left the forest.

Well...I may have found the buck like I planned, but it weren’t my job to kill it.

And it certainly weren’t my place to look for it.

I could hunt them down to my heart’s content, and kill ‘em all I wanted for my own desires...but in the end, they would always be able to afford the one luxury I’d never obtained.

Peace.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #lyle morgan #beatrice morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

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suffernotawitchtolive · 5 years

Text

I don’t want to know who we are when we aren’t together || Self

The world spun around him, the scrapes felt like holes in his flesh. The pain had only been this bad once before. They had been torturing Joshua and then had killed Wren. This pain only compared to the look on Joshua’s face as he died. Of course Wren hadn’t stayed dead, but now he wished this pain was death. In the moment he wanted death. Joshua had turned on him. Joshua had protected the witch. Wren hadn’t even wanted to kill her. whether she continued to follow his trail or not, he wanted to quit hunting and settle down with Joshua. Maybe have a new parish, but Joshua wasn’t settling down with him. Joshua had betrayed him for Kouri.

The silence was ripped apart with a pained sob. Wren gripped his own hair as he leaned back against the truck. He had driven for hours to get away from the attack. To get away from Joshua. Had it been a ruse? Had he been trying to save Wren from her? Why would he attack Wren that way if it was to protect him?

Attacked him. Joshua attacked him to defend that girl. Joshua had shot him. Wren had broken the bolt and left most of it in his shoulder. the pain started to lace through his arm and chest, his tattoo kept throbbing as he sobbed. His sobs got the attention of the hunters he had driven to inside the safe house.

He was covered in blood and starting to tremble violently. His arm was starting to lose function in the pain from the bolt and he was starting to feel dizzy. Joshua had shot him. Judas shot him. At least he wasn’t dead. But had he betrayed Wren or was he still protecting Wren. The ground spun up to meet him but was caught and carried inside.

He had woken up three days later. they had moved him to a different state. He was in a small clinic inside a small church. He guessed. With all the crosses and the saints on the white walls. It was a four bed clinic. No one else was in here. He knew this was a hunter recovery unit. A witness protection for him while he was injured. They would probably make him work here while he recovered. Little did they know, he would recover much faster than he should and he would be gone before they released him.

Now weeks had passed and no word came from Judas. She had bewitched him. That had to be it. Joshua wouldn’t do this.

Wren didn’t speak. He just answered the yes or no questions with a nod or shake of his head. Anything else got a polite nod or smile. He barely interacted with anyone and only did the bare minimum. He had been injured badly, emotionally and physically. this place was quiet and understanding. Beautiful and comfortable. He hated it. He would give any number of days here up to be with Joshua again one more time in that damn asylum.

“Father.” He jumped, being caught off guard, a tear rolling down his cheek. It was a small, young, nun. He tilted his head to acknowledge her speaking to him, “Father. You’ve lost someone... and not to death. That’s how you came to us,isnt it?” She said softly to him. He looked down to the ground and gently brushed the tear off his face.

She watched him in silence then started to play with a flower to give him a moment to himself in the most polite way she could, “That is why we are here. The Vatican send the injured home to be retired. you were intended for retirement. They know that you’ve lost someone important. I’m here to help you get them back. I am sister Lynn. Father Gregory is going to aid you as well as sisters Rita, and Gwen. Gwen is a mute as you are.”

Wren shook his head, speaking softly, his voice quiet. He hadn’t ever heard it so quiet before yet so clear,” I’m not mute, Sister. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just had nothing to say.”

“You do now, and it wasn’t that.” She looked down,” You’re going to tell me you do not need help. this is why the Vatican sends the wounded home. Sends those who have lost others to us. We are here specifically for rescue missions. You’re going to tell us to stay here. That is why we can’t. The Vatican sent you to us to make sure this is a recuse mission and not a revenge mission.” She lay a hand on his arm as he started to feel the air being forced from him. They weren’t going to let him kill Kouri, and his injuries were not great enough for him to be retired. Judas had wounds to great to keep hunting so they would either retire him, or worse, since he wasn’t of use to them anymore and all supernaturals were blasphemy. He couldn’t let them get Judas in their hands.

“I can’t save him.” She seemed shocked. A priest in love was something that sometimes happened, and love had been what they saw him grieving. A priest in love with a man was more taboo than the killing they did, “We can’t save him. He doesn’t wish to be saved. I can no longer fight. The Vatican made a poor judgement on this one. I’m too injured. you’ve seen my shoulder. I can’t move this arm at all. It was ruined in the fight.”

“you have spent more words making excuses than anything else you have said here. Father. Your in the protection of the church and all of those you keep are now as well. The church will cause you no grief. After we retrieve the one you lost, you are both retired. He has done amazing work for the Vatican under your guidance. This is a true rescue and release mission. They reviewed your report of the Asylum. Great work.” She almost blushed. He was a legend, honestly. their best hunter. He had done better work at the asylum than anyone there had known.

Wren smiled bitterly and squinted to the sun above them. It was a cool day. Not cool enough to keep the snow from melting once the sun got higher. Right now the snow was still freshly fallen at their feet on the sides of the path. Just freshly cleaned. Had been cold enough to snow but somehow not cold enough to kill the flowers.

"Youre new here, Sister. You were given orders to aid me in finding the ome I lost. You are to aid me in saving him. You didnt know it was a him, you dont have a name yet or you would be skeptical of saving him. Father has different orders. Je is a fore extinguisher. He is to escalate the situation until the only line of action... is to kill me and the one I have lost in the process of 'saving' either you or humself or one of the others. He may kill the girl who has my friend captive. He may not. She isnt on their radar yet. I didnt think she was a threat so never reported her." He started to walk, hands clasped at his back.

"I... father Wren, that's not..." she stammered as she followed. He spun on her, making eye contact and started to compel her.

"Forget this conversation. You havent seen me this morning. You will go to find me in my room. Go on." He watched as she calmly turned and went the other direction. His tattoo chastised him for letting her go. A witch. A fire extinguisher here to redeem herself to the church. Or another soul to sacrifice to the church as Wren had done over and over. It didnt matter to him. She would have died in the field. They wouldnt let her get to her second mission.

He had overturned his room. Made it look like a major struggle. Broken bed, broken desk. There was a broken bookcase and papers thrown around, curtains burned and torn. He avoided everyone as they ran to see what had happened. He made it to his truck and used magic to start it, he disnt know where they hid his keys.

He had to go save Judas. Reverse whatever spell kouri had put on him. It had to be a spell. Had to be. Joshua would never turn on him for her. Not after all they had been through. Not after all he had put Joshua through. Not after...

Wren couldnt think about this any other way. Not now. He had to concentrate and had to think of how to actually fight Joshua this time even though Joshua wasnt going to hold back like Wren had to.

As he drove he muttered a spell, A delayed spell that set off bombs he had planted in the church. There were areas he knew no one would be this early in the morning and he had planted them there to keep the church away. He knew that the Vtican wanted to retire him. He knew that meant theg wanted him dead. True retirement came after long trials. Sitting and reporting to the vatican in person. Presenting your case and begging for it. Most of the time if you were Wrens age, you were denied. Judas was even younger and an abomination. Wren had always known they wouldnt reture Judas.

He winced and held his own shoulder. The pain was lacing its way down his arm, years springing to his eyes. Judas had shot him. Had been stating at him and not recognised him. Judas had shot at him and sent him away, protecting his childhood...

"Stop it, Wren." He told himself aloud," Stop thinking that way. There was no way she could turn him. He knew the blood and gore on my hands. He knew it all. I told him. He had hated me for it but we had worked it out. We were okay. We were in live. He would never turn on me."

Unless she told him how her family had been innocent and she had been run out of her families home. Had been orphaned by her priest. Unless he had once loved this girl and now reunited, he loved her more. Or just plain loved her. Didnt live Wren and finally figured it out. Wren sobbed.

"Im his mission." A cry ripped from his chest. Judas wouldnt do this to him. No matter what. He had never given up on Wren. Judas should have. The moment Wren doubted him, used him, ruined him. Wren sobbed even harder but he had to keep driving.

He could feel blood running down his arm but instead of giving in to the pain, he used it. He started to mutter a spell the blood laying into the shape of his tattoo until a name struck him. He knew where Judas was. He was going to save him. No matter the cost.

The cost could be Judas. That was right. If he killed Kouri while Judas was under the spell he would be stuck under the spell. He had to break it. That was clever. She knew he couldnt kill her until she removed the spell. Never remove the spell, never die. Leverage.

Wren had to make a backup plan. Had to fix this. He had to.

Finally after a day and a night he pulled over and fell asleep in the cab of his truck, blood dried on his arm and side making his shirt stick to him in the cold. He slept, almost as if at peace. He knew what was coming. He prayed he was wrong. His dreams told him he wasnt.

The windshield cracked.

@tattoobruised

@pride-and-wrathfulness

@alexanderforhire

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somedaypast-thesunset · 7 years

Text

yesterday we did shrooms.

our friend was the ring leader and mixed 9 grams of it in chocolate and we all split it. im usually okay with shrooms and actually sadly took them enough last summer so i felt calm - usually i just have a very mellow empty headed high.

but this was not good and i guess it was ‘better’ that we all experienced not good. like i knew early on it was going the wrong way and suddenly we just wanted it to be over. it was a very intense trip with audio and visual hallucinations but not like full on break from reality - just warping faces and discoloration and hearing talking when there was none.

he did not handle this well at all. i feel both me and our friend have a lot of mental issues and have struggled a lot so it was a bit easier for us to handle but i think i handled it the absolute best because i didnt feel traumatized by it when they did. i mean it was very terrible. but ive done worse sober with my own mind in terms of anxiety and shit and the hallucinations i knew were drug induced. no matter what i questioned i reminded myself it was the drugs. i had no grasp on reality, it was the drugs and it would eventually be over. i really just kind of sat it out.

he took it a lot dfferently and it sat on him in relation to the world around him. like he had become upset but unable to express why he was upset that essentilly what he was feeling was something i had felt sober. like his anxiety and neediness and wanting someone to help and feeling overwhelmed - that’s kind of me on the regular. but being able to feel it himself and see it from this perspective i feel like he could see how hard it actually is. it wasnt like anyone was physically ill. everyone was fine and operating and breathing but mentally it was a complete breakdown. like they were thankful -to come back-. as if we would have lost our minds forever. but i know it’s hard to lose your mind forever, it takes a lot of damage and if i was able to rationalize despite it all, i knew eventually they’d come back.

he was also very very anxious about being upset in front of me because thats not really him. and at one point he was crying, upset about i dont even know and mumbling about james randi. i think he had like pre conceived notions that i might react differently to seeing him upset because he tries really hard to create the illusion of manly man, but on like a subconcious level. i think he thought it would be weakness or something but i just kissed him and everything settled a bit for awhile.

but the mental breakdown was so bad that it took me a really long time to make food. like i was the first one to be able to moderately operate and i guess thats because im used to that sort of mental breakdown state. like it wasnt as if my drugs were weaker - i was definitely totally fucked up and not well. if i was anywhere but a couch with a blanket - dead in the water. but as soon as the worst of the hallucination subsided and i was able to grasp reality for longer than a couple of seconds, i really tried to take control of my mind and body. i wanted it to be over and i could really not operate well and if you would have put a camera on me in this kitchen it would have been frantic pacing and spinning in circles trying to make chicken nuggets and pizza.

as i was making the food i went downstairs to check on them and he was laying on the floor with our friend but he suddenly started freaking out at me very seriously and telling me he needs mental help. to me, it’s semi-normal for him to do this. sometimes he changes moods very quickly and you cant question the shift or it escalates it. if you can get him to see hes exaggerating his own thoughts with something more light hearted, he lets it go. but to our friend, he had never seen this side of him. he kept whining about needing a movie on tv but he was doing nothing to help himself with a laptop in the room etc. it was a brief but intense 2 minutes of very serious freking out about needing “mental help” and i casually mentioned how hes “disturbing” our friend which helped switch him to the realization that he wasnt actually alone.

i finished the food and he asked to tae a nap upstairs which was really just restless anxiety but i felt like .. a much different vibe or shift from him. it wasnt embarassment but like maybe a realization that im not “crazy” and being in mental chaos is hard. both of them were extremely thankful about the food and understood on a deep level how hard it was to mke it - but again, no one was physically sick. everyone could operate but mentally they were gone. so its just really hard to imagine how hard it could be to make food unless you experience if yourself and they did and they appreciated it.

he was very affectionate towards me after, wanting to sit together and hug me and touching me. he asked me a few times if iwas okay and honestly, i was and i am. it was a really easy mental break for me because i knew it was drug induced. i explained it was little sober me curled in a ball inside and just terrified and waiting it out. cuz its not fun to experience that. im surprised i didnt cry but again i knew it was the drugs. maybe im the best person for a bad trip. i took care of myself and two other people.

my friend made a comment about us being “boyfriend and girlfriend” i repeated what he usually says - he’s not my boyfriend. so he directly asked him - “youre not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore?” and he replied “look we already established i live in my own reality and thats all that matters”

whch really he was referring to a comment i made the day before about how he kind of just lived in his own reality where he wont “define” us having a relationship but literally everyone else who knows him and i does because we do in fact by definition have a romantic relationship. so he can think we dont but we definitely do.

hes very very anxious and passive aggressive about my eviction. which is funny to me because i think its a projection of like.. knowing he probably really wants me but this is a bad situation. like its not a healthy relationship standard to now live together because i was evicted. theres no want or desire there; just necessity. so i get it; but he cant say these things. that makes him committed and obligated to the idea of a full scale long term relationship. he cant be alone and be himself with a connection.

i told him i had an opportunity to live in a nearby bussable city. he commented that itd be a long way to walk but it wouldnt matter - hes going away in the summer (by going away he means the idea of living in his truck). it was a double shot - not only would i have less access to him; it wouldnt matter to him because he’s/he’d just leave anyways.

its a bit upsetting that he would focus on our “non existant” relationship - he drives enough it doesnt seem that big of a deal to live a bit further and i dont have a lot of options at the moment. like this is upsetting for me too but im trying to stay the course. ike its a bump in the road of my recovery; it’s not a step backwards, its a consquence of my actions before and it doesnt define what im doing right now. right now i feel 50 - 70% equipped to handle this. its not going to be fun or easy but itll really be for the best all around. like being in this apartment is not healthy for me.

and i have to live my own life. like i feel at ease with the idea that were not creating a real life together so im kindof moving on and he might have to make effort to keep it going. if he doesnt, well -- sucks, but what more can i do? sorry for not living up to your expectations?

i want to live with him but at the same time, right now, i dont. maybe in a few more months when he figures things out a bit more. not that i have anything figured out but as my mind has cleared, ive begun to have time to think on what i know and believe and want. ive built some confidence in myself that i might know whats best for me. not that i know everything, but i should trust that i know when it best to listen to someone else too. and i should trust when i know that someone elses opinion might not matter.

so i know i want a life partner. i know i want to create things - maybe grow or cook, something stress free. i know i want to help a community thrive and grow things within local areas. i’m tired of doing what everyone else wantsme to do; it’s exhausting and suffocating and leads to constant mental breaks. i just want to be me and being me involves a partner.

i dont want to live with his mother. its very suffocating to be around his mother who places her own misguided expectations on you as well. she told me to get a job at mcdonalds - whch is fair, but what happens when i give up? because i know its what i dont want? why stay in terrible situations? why stay n something you dont want? what i want a majority of the time is to lay down and give up. i’d like the incentive not to and mcdonalds is not it.

but she doesnt understand that. she doesnt get that like this shroom trip, a lot of my daily coping is within life or death. i have to choose life. i have to choose and grasp reality regularly when i’d rather give in to it all. so when you lay that blanket on ‘get a job at mcdonalds’, it’s just not the rght choice. it seems stupid, but its not the right choice.

this week i will amazingly work four days. im nervous but looking forward to it and looking forward to it solving some of my problems.

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