#like a mockery. someone who knows what luke was and what happened to him and goes so i guess that didnt pan out for you huh? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Hiya when u gave the time can you please a continuation of the luke from skins one where they were in Morocco and they are both back from Bristol now and they see eachother again and it’s a smut where they r high and kinda intense if that makes sense 😂 ❤️

What Happens in Morocco, Stays in Morocco

This is part two to this imagine, find it here

Pairing | Luke x reader

Summary | perhaps, you were wrong. Not everything stays in Morocco. It is a tradition for things to come back to bite you in the ass, more so when you have been forced to be clean, and kept away from any kind of drugs.

Warnings | use of drugs, addiction, smut, it’s bit dark so read at your own risk, this is a warning so please keep that in mind,

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

An insatiable stirred within your gut, pelting you with reminders of what you had lost after Morocco. The love of your life had been departed from your shaking grip, the people that claimed to care about you forcing you to be sober off the high that it gave you. Drugs. It was your only desire, but you stayed strong as you walked back from college, even as you saw a dealer out of the corner of your eye, trading his special product with someone in your English class, that sat two seats to the right of you.

Licking your lips, you held onto the straps of your rucksack tighter, hoping that the weight of all the items within it would succumb you under the lenient pressure that it composed against your spine, pushing you into a lower station of dwelling, so that you would feel nothing, and the emptiness sure as hell would not be burdening you with satisfactory mockery.

At such a young age, you had found a friend, even if it be absorbed into a conversation through digestion or clouded fumes. And without its presence you were someone else, a stranger trudging hopelessly through the ambient streets of Bristol, lost and in need for a high. That holiday had been the end of you, your friends didn’t say it, but you were more than certain that they were thinking such a spectacle.

Whilst you were amped up on various chemicals that engorged your veins with images of new possibilities, you were far from a sullen composure; you were happy. You had no problem speaking to Nick’s brother, though everyone seemed to be wary of him, and listening to Grace talk about her various recitals, and the strictness that her father intended upon her. To everyone you had been a breath of fresh air, until that place that they called rehab.

In there they had starved you from the one thing that you had truly craved. Even the security guy wouldn’t trade a blowjob for a little picking of white powder, and it showed you how messed up their priorities were. Morocco, it had been an escape, something you were sure it never feel again, but you wanted to, so desperately.

“If it isn’t the wisp of the waters, in the flesh, and looking like she could use a pick me up.” A blonde male asked, he couldn’t have been much older than yourself. There were scrapes adorning his pale complexion, brandishing his cheek with what could only be seen as battle scars from a testosterone endorsed fight.

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you?” You roughly spoke, having no recollection of ever meeting this man in your life, though, half of your memory was boggled. Going cold turkey appeared to have had that affect on you, but a deep internal part of you was warning you to leave now, and conserve your own safety from whatever offer he was about to propose.

Sure, you’d have once done anything, but the possibility of danger preached louder when there was nothing numbing your blood stream, and dirtying the contents that ran through it. A small snicker fled from the boy’s mouth, revealing that he was much amused by your naivety. He tilted his head, observing you with a lick of his lips, plodding closer as you froze.

“We’ve met before.” He toyed inside his pockets, extracting a clear bag that contained a couple of vibrant yellow pills that had your heart beating promiscuously against the captivity of your ribcage. “In fact, we got to know each other very well darling, your manners weren’t so spectacular then either, though they sure were better. It appeared as though you rather enjoyed the attention and now you’re here, looking like an innocent doe under the flare of headlights.”

“I don’t do that kinda stuff any more.” But you wanted to. It didn’t matter what prospects spewed out of your mouth in the form of conjunctive excuses, it was more than clear that you were aggressively attracted to the small spheres that had caught your attention fast. “I’d find the next girl to corrupt, because I’m clean and intend to stay that way.” Did you?

“You’re already corrupted, there’s no point in dismissing this, because it is what you want. But you’re denying urself from the simple luxuries of life, all because ripple; family, friends, think its better for you. They want you to be healthy, though that entails you perceiving though life as someone that you aren’t.” He sighed, rolling his shoulders slightly as his eyes bore around your sullen demeanour, recognising every trace that your body showed of restraining itself. “I’m Luke. And you, you are y/n, aren’t you? I’m sure I heard your friends call you that on holiday.”

Gulping, you realised that this must have been the boy that fucked with Frankie’s head, and made one of your group disappear, all whilst Grace was away, and in intensive care. As soon as it all clicked, you felt overwhelmed. There was nothing that you could do against him, he had already broken everything around you, whether that was his intent or not. Without thinking at all, you snatched the self made packet out of the clasp of his fingers, emptying the contents into your palm, throwing them into your mouth.

“Good girl.” It felt like a taunt, he was messing with you, you knew that. But it wasn’t his fault that you were messed up; all that was on you. “Don’t you want some water with that, it might make it wash down easier?” To answer him, you swallowed the pills dry cocking a brow at him as he pulled out another clear sachet of impulsive medications, taking it himself before you could whisk it away and endure further affects yourself.

Luke, feeling the tingle himself, pulled you down the alley that he was occupying, pressing your numbed back against the wall, his mouth running along your cheek as you felt swarmed with various desires. A part of you wanted to push him away, and beat him until he could no longer walk, but the other wanted nothing more than to feel his toxic skin dragging along yours, increasing the high that was spurring around your lungs until you felt like you could no longer breathe.

Your hands were uncertain of where they were supposed to be, and thus they roamed around his thin arms, grasping at his shoulders as his face sunk into the crook of your neck, his hands daring below your skirt, and feeling you up over your panties. Every touch he presented upon your burning flesh induced sparks to collapse in your mind, displaying through each of your appendages. “Fuck me, or I’ll find someone else to a better job.” You snarled at him, growling as he chuckled at your desperation.

“Now I recognise you, instead of that good girl facade.” He nipped at your neck, dropping his preppy slacks as he grasped his cock, thrusting your panties to the side so that he could penetrate your cunt, a cry abandoned your throat, echoing around the nearby streets. Your walls convulsed around him as you felt full and completely satisfied with the sensation. The memories of him flooded back into your mind as you pictured Morocco. He had stalked over towards you as though you were his prey, and it seemed that he had continued to hunt you down.

The thought was kinda hot, and thus you clenched your teeth, succumbing to an orgasm around him, whimpering as he slipped himself out, jerking his length so that he spilled his seed over your legs. “I have more of the good stuff back home, you fancy coming over?” Hazily you nodded, as his wobbling hand grasped your face, smashing his poisonous lips upon yours, suffocating all the good that you had been laboured into, making you swim in the darkness of his pupils as the two of you wobbled away from the scene, his cum still painted upon your legs as the two of you slowly headed towards his flat.

#luke skins x reader #luke skins #skins x reader #skins imagine #skins fic #skins fanfiction #imagines #imagine #xreader #luke imagine #luke smut

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thecluelessredhead · 3 years

Text

Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Legacy

Summary: Sunset Curve, the greatest new band of the ‘90s, was supposed to die. One fatal decision to change it all. One fatal decision was never made.

Put simply it’s an AU in which Luke, Alex, and Reggie never died.

Word Count: 2912

Chapter 1 of ???

Additional notes at the bottom.

Chapter One

“Okay, well, I’m thinking we fuel up before the show,” the lead singer was saying. “I’m thinking street dogs.” He looked at each of his bandmates in turn, and waited eagerly for their approval. The boys didn’t respond immediately, for their rhythm guitarist had caused a distraction by leaping off the stage and walking suavely up to a woman wiping down the table, who had been cheering moments earlier. “Hey, Bobby, where you going?” The other three band members exchanged a knowing glance, but gladly followed their friend down the stage stairs and to where the girl stood, a slight smirk on her face.

“I’m good,” the one walking away called back to the singer. Then, he turned to face the woman, and plastered a coy smile. “Vegetarian,” he said to her, placing his hands on the table she was wiping down. “I could never hurt an animal.”

The woman didn’t respond directly to him, but instead addressed his approaching bandmates. “You guys were really good,’ she gushed.

“Thank you.” Luke accepted the compliment with a shy but proud grin.

“I see a lot of bands,” the girl went on. “Been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.” Something in her face told the boys that she didn’t say these things to just anyone.

“Yeah, that’s what we do this for,” the lead singer said, stepping into his confidence. “I’m Luke, by the way.” Luke was the shortest of the group, and his face seemed to hold a constant expression of flirtation beneath his chestnut hair, which wasn’t entirely untrue.

“Hi, I’m Reggie.” It was the bass player who had spoken, and he was beaming. He had deep brown hair, a slender build, and a look of blissful oblivion. He put in his two cents quickly, and got out of the way.

“Alex,” was all the drummer said, for he wasn’t interested in the girl. He was the biggest of the group and his blond hair was hidden under a black backwards hat. When he had ceased speaking, he put his hands back into his pockets and resumed slouching next to Reggie.

“Bobby,” the self pronounced vegetarian announced, trying to draw attention back to himself. He had a deep, soothing voice, and hair parted perfectly down the middle. He may have been counted out of Sunset Curve’s value, but that would’ve been erroneous.

“Nice meeting you guys,” the waitress answered, and though her voice was kind, a hint of mockery and sarcasm could’ve been detected. If so, it only made the boys like her more. “I’m Rose.”

“Oh, uh, here’s our demo.” Reggie offered her a black CD, with a practiced smirk. “And a T-shirt, size beautiful.” Rose accepted both items with a simper that matched Reggie’s. Alex merely groaned at Reggie’s smarmy efforts.

Rose ignored him as she held the shirt up to her torso and examined it. It was a plain white garment, with the words Sunset Curve written in black across the front. “Thanks.” She beamed, and this time it was genuine. “I’ll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one,” she joked, throwing the shirt over her shoulder.

“Oh, good call! Whenever they get wet, they just kinda… fall apart in your hands,” Alex informed her, making an awkward visual with his fingers. He trailed off, clearly feeling awkward about his addition to the conversation, though no one really noticed his discomfort. His hands returned to his pockets.

On that note, Bobby was eager to get rid of them. “Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?”

Hot dogs was something that the band members had yet to agree to. Luke turned and looked expectantly at his friends, who seemed to think.

Reggie was the one who spoke up. “Actually, my older sister Carla is in town for the show. I was going to go meet her.” Luke nodded, and turned to face Alex for his opinion.

Alex looked uncomfortable now that the spotlight was on him. He took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together nervously. “I was actually kinda hoping to get a little time to breathe before the show.” He didn’t like admitting this to anyone, especially not someone he had just met. His hands quickly returned to his pockets and he looked down at the ground.

“Oh, cool,” Luke said, turning in a quarter circle so that he faced Rose again, even though he didn’t plan on speaking to her again that night. Now that all three bandmates had abandoned him, what did that leave for him to do? Luke, now slightly upset at being left alone just before a life changing night, pushed Bobby aside and leaned toward Rose. “He had a hamburger for lunch.” Alex, Reggie, and Rose giggled as Luke walked away, basking in the light of a successful joke. Bobby groaned at being out done by Luke once again.

Luke, Alex, and Reggie all left together through a side door, leaving Bobby to pick up the pieces of his failed flirting practices.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Luke exclaimed happily as they strolled into the alley.

“The smell of Sunset Boulevard?” Alex asked, wrinkling his nose, and looked around, as if searching for the source of the constant odour.

Luke stopped walking to look into Alex’s green eyes. “No.” He laughed and gave Alex a playful shove. “It’s what that girl said in there tonight.” Luke kicked up puddles and spoke as if the event hadn’t just happened. “About our music, all right?” He turned to look at Alex again. “It’s like an energy. It connects us with people. They can feel us when we play.” He stopped walking again as the group reached the end of the alley. He pulled his bandmates into his arms. “I want that connection with everybody.”

“Then, we’re going to need more T-shirts,” Reggie said, taking the serious edge off of Luke's monologue. Luke laughed and looked back and forth between Alex and Reggie.

It came to a point where the three had to go their separate ways, and they said their goodbyes, despite the fact that what Luke had said held true and they would always be connected to one another.

Luke walked alone down the sidewalk, past crowds already lining up to come to see the show. While he walked, he thought. At first, his thoughts were directed toward Reggie, and he wondered how someone who had such a difficult time at home could be so happy and think so simply all the time. He wondered if Alex still thought about Luke in the way Luke thought about Alex. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that particular inquiry. Luke pondered about what Bobby thought about, for he was the one person Luke could never truly get to. Never really read.

Luke forced himself to push these thoughts aside, and think only of the show. This was to be the night of his life, and he decided to cherish his last few moments before his world was wound upside down. So, he dragged his mind to nothingness, and continued on his search for something to do.

Alex was having just as hard a time as Luke. He had yet to calm his nerves, and was getting discouraged, which always led nowhere good. The night was cooling off quickly and darkening at twice that rate. Alex stood on a street corner waiting as patiently as he could for the light to turn. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms and returned them to his pockets in a vain attempt to warm up. Traffic was bad. Cars roared across the boulevard, headlights blaring, and for one wild moment, Alex feared one would veer off the road and hit him. He would soon discover that that was the very least of his worries.

Alex felt ridiculous, being off on his own when the band’s biggest performance was rearing its head like a serpent before him. He sucked in a deep breath, and the air seemed to harden in his lungs.. He looked once more at the traffic as he turned to head back to the Orpheum, and wallow.

His final glance was one that saved a life.

A figure was flying too fast into the street on a skateboard. The being pushed off the asphalt with his right foot, and a grin was visible on his face as he pushed the limits of death. Cars blew their horns,and slammed on the brakes. Alex’s fears were almost realized as vehicles swerved to avoid the daredevil. The man giggled and turned on his skateboard to cross the boulevard again. Alex’s heart stopped in his chest, but the cars didn’t.

In one moment of complete insanity, the drummer lunged took two long strides and lunged across the street, snatching the skater in a flying tackle. The two of them hit the pavement and rolled, knocking people out of the way. Alex felt his back hit a wall, the boy still wrapped in his arms, and he opened his eyes. They were met by a mop of glossy, luxurious, brown hair. Alex didn’t have long to look however, because as soon as they stopped rolling, the figure fought to free himself from Alex’s clutches. Alex relinquished his hold wordlessly and allowed the man to wriggle away. The boy leapt to his feet and grabbed his skateboard from where it lay on the sidewalk a few feet away to examine it.

“Aww, you dinged my board!” he whined, without looking up at Alex.

Alex stood up, suddenly very heated. “Dinged your board? Dude, I saved your life!” The boy looked up at him, as if realizing for the first time that Alex had rescued him. Upon meeting his eyes, his head cocked to one side, and he studied Alex’s face carefully. The boy took in Alex’s handsome features, and made an unconscious decision to give the guy a chance. He smirked slightly at the scrunch in Alex’s eyebrows, and hitched up his skateboard in his left hand.

He reached up with his other hand to pull off his helmet while he spoke. “Yeah. yeah, thanks. I guess it’s about time that I learned-” He stopped speaked, and bent his neck to shake out his hair. He whipped his head back up, and Alex’s eyes caught each one of that man’s features as if his movements were in slow motion. “-skating in traffic is bad,” he finished, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ears. Alex made a frustrated mental note that the boy had the handsomest of ears. The boy’s brown eyes were scrutinizing him, and he realized his mouth was hanging open. The boy seemed to take his silence and flustered face to mean he was upset, and pursed his lips. “Hey,” he said gently. “Thanks.” Even if the words were weak, the sentiment was solid and powerful.

“Yeah.” Alex nodded, regaining his composure. “It was nothing.” He stuck out his hand.

“Sure, it was,” the boy said, lazily accepting Alex’s honesty, taking hand and shaking it.

“I’m, uh, Alex.” He grinned.

“Cool, I’m Willie.”

Willie. The name stuck in Alex’s brain, and it was as if at that moment, the six letters were being engraved in his head, so that he would never forget. They had stopped shaking hands, but had yet to let go. Alex’s hand was the first to fall.

“So, do you often make stupid choices?” Alex asked. Now that his initial shock of seeing the boy had gone, his miffed attitude was returning.

“Yes,” Willie answered, defensively. “Do you often save lives?”

“No,” Alex replied, melting again under the boy’s warm gaze.

“Who are you?” Willie looked around unexpectedly, as if searching for some mysterious answer. “Some sort of hero?”

Alex blushed hard, blood rushing to his cheeks and drawing his eyes toward his nose. Willie noticed, and reddened as well. “No. No, not a hero. Just a drummer.”

“Ahhh!” Willie smiled, and began to walk away, expecting Alex to follow. Alex, however, remained still, his head turned slightly as he watched Willie go, his feet seemingly glued to the concrete. It didn’t take Willie much time to realize his new acquaintance wasn’t with him, and he turned back. “You coming or what?”

Alex was certain that the blood rising in his face was becoming permanent. “Um, no. No, I don’t think I will.” He shuffled his feet nervously, and Willie attentive caught onto that fidget.

“Why not?” he asked, taking two uncommonly long strides back to Alex. He was close, and looked up into the taller boy’s large green eyes, with a curiosity and concern that was not to be expected from someone as reckless as him.

“I have a gig tonight. Yeah, my, uh, my band’s playing the Orpheum. Well it’s not my band. I’m in the band, but uh-“ Alex cut himself off. Willie was grinning.

“The Orpheum, huh?” He nodded slowly, as if coming up with a clever scheme. “So, why aren’t you there?”

Alex chewed on the inside of his cheek and thought about how to answer that question. He decided on the truth, in the hopes that Willie would be appreciative of it either way. “I wanted some air. This is kind of a big night for us. Like, life changing.”

Willie’s eyes crinkled like he was pondering these words. He seemed to understand what Alex was saying, despite never being in such a situation himself. “Can I stop by? Cheer you on?” he inquired, nudging Alex gently with his elbow, and biting his lip in a suppressed smile, which only made Alex blush again.

“You don’t have a ticket,” he pointed out.

Willie shrugged, as if the rules were just a formality. “Please. I’ll find a way in.”

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Willie cut him off by holding up a single finger.

“I’ll see you there.” He grinned, slipped on his helmet, dropped his skateboard, and skated away, leaving Alex both nervous and flustered.

Reggie was standing patiently outside of the airport, waiting for Carla. Standing is a bit of a stretch. Reggie seemed to live in a constant state of movement, and right now, he was walking dreamily in circles and kicking up puddles just for the heck of it. He was beginning to get a few funny looks, being a seventeen year old boy, standing outside an airport, splashing through rainwater, but Reggie didn’t want to go inside. He didn’t like airport security, because taking off his shoes made him uncomfortable, and he always got lost. So, both he and Carla decided it was best for him to remain outside while she got all of her affairs in order.

“Reggie,” a voice asked, and he knew it was her. He whirled around, throwing water in a perfect ring around his legs. Reggie didn’t say anything as he approached his sister, only spread his arms and went into her welcoming ones. She then stepped away from him and held him at an arm's distance to look at him. She looked proud of him.

“Hey!” Reggie exclaimed finally. “How was your flight?”

Carla shrugged, mostly wanted to hear more from Reggie. “Fine.”

Reggie stooped down, and eagerly took one of her bags from the ground where she had set them to embrace him. “And how’s college?” he pressed.

“Oh, you know,” Carla said evasively. Reggie laughed and shook his head, and Carla had to give in to his boyish excitement. His joy was contagious. “Okay, well my classes are great,” she began as they started to walk. “I got this great internship working for one of the most incredible professors there. She thinks like me, and understands the changes we need to be making to the modern education system.” Reggie waited eagerly for more. “And I’ve been hanging out with this one girl, who I swear is the most brilliant and funny human being I’ve ever met. And you know how I feel about hyperboles.”

“They're useless. Say what you mean,” Reggie repeated what his sister had been drilling into his head since he had learned the meaning of the word.

“Exactly.” Carla beamed at him.

“Can I meet her?” Reggie pleaded. Carla elbowed him in the kidney, and he wasn’t entirely sure why, so he dropped the subject.

“No, tell me about you! How’s the band? How are the guys?” she asked.

“They’re great. Can’t wait to see you again. You’re coming to the show right?”

They had arrived at the Peters’ house.

“Of course!” Carla promised. Reggie grinned goofily. Neither went inside the house, and Carla asked the question both had been dancing around for the entirety of their short walk. “How are Mom and Dad?”

Reggie’s grin faded. “The same. Most nights, I don’t come home. But they don’t notice.”

“I’m sorry I left you with that,” Carla said, and she looked like she meant it.

Reggie avoided her gaze. “It’s okay. You had a chance to get out. And I’ve got the band.”

Carla nodded. “You should’ve had me.”

“Shall we go in?” Reggie asked, determined to change the subject.

“If we must,” Carla answered, throwing her head back in a regal way, linking arms with her brother and turning to face the house, which from the outside look peaceful.

Together, feeding off each other’s bravery, the pair approached the front door.

Notes: Thanks for making it this far. I’m not on Ao3 or any of that, so this is what you get. Next chapter will definitely be longer, I just really wanted to get this first one out in the open, so bear with me and be kind. Also, I felt like this was very heavy on Willex, but I hope you enjoyed the theory that I creaed with them. Also, sorry the first part is like, just the show. The title and summary make me cringe, too, feel free to disregard that. Reblogs are appreciated, and hope you enjoyed!

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clumsyclifford · 3 years

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hello my dearest so i'm unsure if you're taking requests right now and if you're not (or just don't feel like writing this) feel absolutely free to ignore this!! anyway i would really really love to read about a spiderman kiss happening in the spiderman au 👀 i have absolutely no excuse for requesting this kinda silly thing except that i love spiderman kisses as a prompt/trope (? idk what the correct term is) and also spiderman au so bye love you loads -fiancee

hello !!! this was an absolutely inspired prompt so i am glad i finally got round to writing it thank you. also thank you @cringeycake for the editing/con crit/validation

better tags/info on ao3 but this takes place shortly after the end of the malum spidey fic and it does have a gun in it for a sec, is that something that needs a tw? well anyway now you know

read it here on ao3

Ashton and Calum are ten minutes from home when it starts to rain.

“Of course,” says Calum. Ashton quickly pockets his phone so it doesn’t get wet. “This is your fault.”

“How’s this my fault?”

“I don’t know, but it obviously is.” Calum’s just in a sour mood because Ashton had completely destroyed him in all three rounds of bowling.

“Shut up,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. The rain falls faster, cold and piercing through the thin fabric of Ashton’s t-shirt. It had been nice for most of the day, but it must have gotten overcast while they were inside. Predictably, neither of them had had the foresight to check the forecast.

“Whatever,” Ashton says. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

“A lot of rain,” Calum says. It is a lot of rain now, coming down in buckets. Naturally the sky would choose this moment to open up.

“A lot of rain never hurt anyone either,” Ashton points out. Which is not true, but they’re not going to catch hypothermia or anything. Probably. And it’s only ten minutes. Eight if they really get a move on.

Calum sighs. Still, when Ashton glances over at him to make sure he’s not really upset, he can tell it’s all for show. After all, it’s only rain. A lot or a little, there’s only so much harm that comes from being soaking wet. They’re on their way back to Ashton’s anyway, where Ashton will be gracious enough to lend him the usual Green Day t-shirt and whatever hoodie Ashton himself isn’t wearing.

They make nonsense conversation as they walk, both curled into themselves to keep warm. Apart from the occasional passing car, nobody is out and about in this weather, just the two of them in a slowly darkening neighborhood. Unease prickles at the back of Ashton’s neck. Or maybe that’s just the rain.

“Hey, you kids. Hey!”

Ashton and Calum spin around and see two figures approaching them through the downpour. The uneasy feeling returns full-force, this time accompanied by Ashton’s heart ramming against his chest as a spike of anxiety — or adrenaline? — courses through him. Next to him, Calum mutters, “Fuck, fuck, Ashton, he has a gun,” and Ashton realizes with growing panic that the bigger of the two does, in fact, have thick fingers curled around a gun.

“Stop walking,” the armed guy commands. Ashton really, really doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t think they have another choice. Something tells him flight won’t get them far, and trying to fight will just get them both shot.

They come to a halt as the figures come closer, crowding them into the alley they’ve stopped outside. Better place to die, Ashton’s horrible mind supplies. The armed guy holds up the gun and Ashton’s heart stops mid-pulse. He can’t seem to come up with any coherent thoughts, nothing that will get them out of this situation or even postpone it. Helplessness floods every inch of him, and all he can think is how awful it would be to die feeling helpless.

“Money, valuables, whatever you got,” sneers the guy not holding the gun. “If you don’t want to cooperate —”

Ashton’s prepared to say something along the lines of we’ll give you anything you want, loath though he is to be that cliché, when the gun vanishes out of Armed Thug’s hands. There’s just enough time for all four of them to blink in bewildered surprise when a far more reassuring figure appears out of nowhere, flipping both thugs onto their backs on the pavement and swiftly knocking them out. For good measure, he webs their limbs to the ground, and then he turns back to Calum and Ashton, who both stare.

“Spiderman,” Ashton says breathlessly. Luke seems just as surprised to see them.

“Ashton?” He’s on them in a flash. “Calum? Holy fuck, I didn’t realize it was you guys. Are you okay? Did they take anything from you? Are either of you hurt?”

“We — we’re okay,” Calum says, looking a little dumbstruck. “Thanks.”

“What the fuck are you guys doing out right now?”

“Just walking home,” Ashton says defensively. “We went bowling.” He inhales deeply, trying to get his heart rate back to normal. The shock is still coursing through his veins, though the relief flooding him is helping him regain his balance.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Fine, they didn’t do anything,” Ashton says. Shaken, but ultimately unhurt. “Uh, good thing you were here.” He quirks his lips. “Our hero.”

“Thank fucking God I was.” Luke shifts on his feet. “Well. Okay. If you’re sure you’re okay.” He shoots a web to the roof of one of the buildings enclosing the alley — how do those stick even in the rain? — and leaps up into the air like he’s going to go. Ashton frowns.

“Hey, don’t just leave,” he says. “I haven’t heard from you all day.”

Luke hangs from the web upside down, possibly flexing, and says, “Sorry, sorry, I know. Been very busy. Lots of crime. You know how it is.”

“Did you take any breaks?”

“Of course I did,” Luke says, offended. “I had a churro. It was delicious. Just didn’t have time to stop at home.”

He leaves his phone at home when he’s on patrol — that must be why he’s been MIA. Ashton really doesn’t like that, even if he understands. It’s just. He hates that something could happen to Luke and he’d have no way of knowing. They won’t let Ashton be on comms, even for moral support — Michael claims he’ll only be a distraction, and while Ashton’s not sure if that’s true, he’s definitely not practical enough to be helpful in any Spiderman-related situation. Unless Spiderman happened to encounter evil watercolors or something.

“Okay, well.” Ashton sighs. “I just. Worry.”

“Tell me about it,” Luke says, though from the smile in his voice, it’s clear he’s teasing. “There’s no room in your brain for anything else at this point.”

“Alright, don’t feel like you need to stay and chat, Spidey,” Ashton loudly announces, talking over Luke’s contagious giggles.

“Don’t be like that,” Luke says, reaching for Ashton. His fingers close around Ashton’s drenched shirt and Ashton allows himself to be pulled closer, as Luke tugs the bottom of the mask up so only his mouth and chin are visible. He’s stopped wearing the lip ring underneath it, much to Ashton’s chagrin.

As Luke tugs Ashton into a kiss, Ashton decides he can’t complain.

The rain makes their mouths slick, and it’s strange enough kissing someone who’s upside down that it’s a little difficult to get lost in it. Ashton’s smiling before he can stop himself, the taste of rainwater mixing with the familiar taste of Luke. He’s never really tasted rainwater. Or kissed anyone in the rain. His heart’s still beating hard, but now it’s for a different reason.

“Um? What the fuck is going on right now?”

Ashton breaks away from Luke, who flips over and lands on his feet. They both face Calum, who looks more confused than the time Ashton tried to teach him to draw three-dimensional shapes.

“Kissing my boyfriend,” Luke says.

“Your? What? You — I thought?”

Ashton takes in Calum’s face and tone of voice and puts two and two together. “Oh my God,” he says, wincing. “You didn’t know.”

“Know what?” Calum demands. “That you’re — what — I don’t even know what to think.” Although that quickly changes with his expression, which becomes more incredulous as he reaches a conclusion. “No, never mind. I’ve got it. If that’s not Luke under there, you and I are going to have a very serious talk.”

“It’s Luke, I’m Luke,” Luke says quickly, pulling the mask the rest of the way off — though not without a quick glance to each side. Upon reflection, he shoots a web towards each fallen thug, giving them both very fashionable web-masks that cover their eyes. “Though let’s maybe not throw my name around.”

Calum stands and stares. Ashton remembers when that had been his reaction.

“Don’t fucking expose yourself in public on my behalf,” Calum says finally, gesturing. “Put the mask back on, Christ. I’m not— I’m— I just need a minute.”

“I told Ashton he could tell you,” Luke says as he pulls the mask back on. “Ashton, you didn’t tell him?”

“I thought Michael would have!”

“You don't think if he had, I wouldn’t have immediately called you to make fun of you for spending weeks pining after both Luke and Spiderman only to find they were the same fucking person? And that, oh yeah, your boyfriend's fucking Spiderman?” In his indignance, Calum’s gotten louder.

“Shh,” Ashton says, glaring meaningfully. “I know he is. That’s a secret.”

“From me?”

“No, okay, I meant to tell you,” Ashton says, dragging a hand through sopping wet hair. “I was trying to figure out how, but then Luke said he told Michael and I we could tell you, and I thought Michael would do it. Because he’s your boyfriend and he’s known Luke way longer. And then, I don’t know.”

Maybe a part of him had hoped Michael would tell Calum. If only to avoid the mockery Ashton knows he’ll be subject to in coming days regarding his emotional crisis over Luke and Spiderman.

“I hate you more than I’ve ever hated you,” Calum informs Ashton, although he’s never really hated Ashton, so that’s not a very high bar. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Yes! I swear.”

“I thought you already knew,” Luke volunteers. “Damn, Ash, good thing I kissed you or Calum would never have found out.”

“Shut up,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. “Look, Calum — I’m sorry. This was, uh, not a great way to find out.”

“Yeah, no fucking shit,” Calum mutters. His lips pull upward in a smile far too dry for the weather, and finally he laughs. The hilarity of the whole situation catches up with all of them, and before long the three of them are howling with laughter as rain comes down in sheets, encasing them in a chill that Ashton barely feels.

“This is all so fucking insane,” Calum manages, wiping at his eyes. He’s still squinting through the rain. “I can’t believe I’ve been friends with Spiderman all this time. What the fuck is my life? What is our life? You’re dating Spiderman, Ashton. Do you know that?”

“What fucking part of secret identity do you not understand?” Ashton says. “Stop exposing all of his secrets.”

“You just kissed in the middle of the alley!”

That’s fair. They did just do that. In Ashton’s defense, though, Luke started it. Ashton is merely a victim to Luke’s whims. Shenanigans. Whatever.

“I was just trying to save some lives,” Luke says, shaking his head ruefully. “My Spidey-sense was tingling.”

“I hate when you say that.”

“Spidey-Meter, would you prefer that? Spider Radar? Spider Scale?”

“Just call it intuition.”

“It’s more than intuition,” Luke insists. “You just don’t get it because you’ve never felt it.”

“Whatever you say, Spidey.”

“Well, I hate to cut this short, but it is raining a lot,” Calum says, like maybe they’ll have forgotten. “And considering I am going to see you” — with a significant look at Luke — “at school on Monday, I think we can probably catch up later.”

“Let me walk you home,” Luke says, ever the gentleman, or possibly protective. “It’s not far.”

“What are you going to do with these two?” Calum asks, jabbing a thumb at the thugs passed out in the mouth of the alley. “Leave them?”

“Uh,” Luke says. “Let me handle them. I’ll catch up to you.”

Calum tilts his head suspiciously. Ashton just starts walking, jerking his chin to get Calum to join him. “It’s fine. He’ll catch up.”

After a moment, Calum follows. They’re both soaked through, yet the rain is as relentless as ever. Calum falls into step as they start down the pavement.

“You really thought I already knew?” Calum says doubtfully.

Ashton sighs. “Okay, I was a little tiny bit hoping that I wouldn’t have to be the one to tell you.” He inclines his head. “But I realize I dropped the ball here. I should have told you sooner. I would’ve eventually.”

Calum is quiet for a moment. “I mean, it’s fine,” he says defeatedly. “When did he even tell you?”

“Um, the day before Luke and I started dating,” Ashton says. “Originally we really were keeping it from you, but then Luke realized that wasn’t going to fly with, you know. How important you are in my life. And Michael’s, I guess.”

“Don’t try to flatter me into forgiveness,” Calum says. Ashton snorts.

“That’s literally what happened, though. And then I was trying to figure out what would be the best way to tell you, because, uh, it’s kind of insane? And then Luke told me that he told Michael that Michael could tell you — God, I feel like a twelve-year-old girl — and I kinda thought I would let Michael do it. Which was a bad move on my part. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Calum says again. “I don’t really care. Like, I get it. Yeah. It’s kind of insane. And I don’t know Luke as well as you or Michael, so.”

“But I’m glad you know now,” Ashton says firmly. “Sorry you had to find out like this, but I’m happy that you know. I’m sure I’d have said something stupid sooner or later and you would’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah, now that you mention it, this makes a lot of things make sense,” Calum says. He huffs a laugh. “My God, Ashton, I can’t believe you genuinely had a crush on the same boy twice without knowing it was the same boy. Your life.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Anything else you want to tell me while you’re at it? Anything you conveniently neglected to mention?”

“Yeah, actually, one thing. I’m also a superhero, completely forgot to say —”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Ashton laughs, clapping a hand onto Calum’s shoulder. A wry smile overtakes Calum’s face, chuckling despite his best efforts, and Ashton knows they’re okay.

“Hey,” says Luke, dropping down beside the pair of them.

Calum jerks. “Motherfucker. Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Luke says. If it were just Luke as himself, Ashton would take his hand, but this Luke is still Spiderman, so Ashton dutifully keeps his hands to himself, crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his fingers underneath his arms in hopes of preserving some warmth.

It doesn’t work. “You’re shivering,” Luke tells Ashton.

“I know that,” Ashton says. “It’s cold. I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s raining.”

“If only we’d remembered to bring our supersuits from home,” Calum dryly contributes.

Luke makes a face at them both. “You guys are so funny, you know that?”

“Thank you,” Calum says. “You’re also funny. But, you know. Looks aren’t everything.”

A pause as Luke processes this. Finally: “Hey!”

Ashton laughs. “Just wait, he’ll make the same joke until you stop setting it up for him.” Something Ashton had learned the hard way.

They chat amicably until they reach Ashton’s building, at which point Luke says, “I better go.” It’d be nice to get a kiss goodbye, but Ashton figures they’ve already pushed their luck on the kissing front. Luke backs away from them, shooting a web up at the roof. “I’ll see you on Monday. Call you tonight, Ash.”

“You better.”

“And will you please tell Michael to call me as well?” Calum says, crossing his arms. “Unless he’s giving me the silent treatment.”

“No, he dropped his phone in the sink,” Luke snickers. “So it’s been in rice all day.”

Of course he did. For someone who’s virtually a genius, Michael sure does have an idiotic streak. He’s a lot like Calum in that way.

“Thanks for walking us home,” Ashton says, smiling fondly. “And, you know, saving our lives.”

“All in a day’s work,” Luke says, warmth bleeding into his voice. “See you guys later. Be safe. Stay warm. You know.”

Between one blink and the next, he’s gone.

“‘Stay warm,’” Calum echoes disdainfully, looking up at the roof onto which Luke had disappeared. “Do you think he knows that human clothes don’t retain heat the way superhero suits do?”

Ashton laughs and follows Calum into the lobby.

15 notes · View notes

def-initely-soul · 4 years

Note

Can I get some Jaebum, in a creepy setting with the prompt “I’m calling it. We are lost in the woods.”? If I can't..well...we both know I can. ☺️❤️ Oh and make it 80s themed.

damn right you can! (i mean come on, really, did you think I was gonna say no?)

pairing: jaebum from got7 x reader (f.)

prompts: “I’m calling it. We are lost in the woods.”

genre: supernatural au; witch au; 80s au; horrorish

warnings: mention of pregnancy gone wrong

words: 5.7k (what is wrong with me, these are supposed to be drabbles...)

“I’m calling it. We are lost in the woods.”

Jaebum sighs out loud, already regretting having Jinyoung tag along with him in the first place. He knew his more logic-driven friend wouldn’t have supported this outing and yet he couldn’t leave him out of this. Not when Jackson himself had tagged along as well.

“We’re not lost in the woods okay? I know where we’re going...” Jaebum repeats for what feels like the hundredth time tonight as his flashlight flickers for a second. With a curse, he shakes the thing before the light flickers back on. He can swear he just replaced the batteries in this thing.

“Are you sure? Because all I’m seeing are trees, not some bitchin’ witchin’ house in the woods,” Jinyoung retorts and Jaebum rolls his eyes even if he keeps moving forward.

The reason the three of them are out tonight and not on Mark’s rad Halloween party is that they’re out on a search for their town’s own resident witch. It’s rumoured that once upon a time a witch lived in those woods, granting wishes to children that were brave enough to befriend her. Jaebum supposes it’s more of a cautionary tale about judging someone before you meet them than an actual event.

Still he has to try.

“Oh that sounds gnarly, try saying it quick. Bitchin’ witchin’, bitchin’ witchin’, bitchin’ witchin’...” Jackson interrupts from next to Jaebum, repeating the mantra with a level of concentration Jaebum hasn’t seen him use ever. Not even for math class.

“Yeah, Jackson that’s great but it would be even greater if we weren’t lost in the middle of the woods, searching for a witch that might not be even real! I mean she was here, what? 300 years ago or so?” Jinyoung is relentless in trying to get them to return back home. Jaebum doesn’t answer him and keeps moving forward, his boot crunching the dead leaves on the ground as the sun finally disappears behind the mountains.

Jackson chuckles nervously. “Ugh, take a chill pill dude, Jae said he had a reason to look for her, so we’re here to support him,” he replies calmly and that seems to shut Jinyoung up. The three friends keep walking in silence, Jaebum a few steps ahead as he clutches on the book that has any information regarding the witch.

She first started granting wishes around the 1600s, the then-village having a small period of tranquillity as everyone had their wishes fulfilled and the witch got almost everything she needed for free in return. But then a kid disappeared. A young girl at the age of 18, like Jaebum’s age now, leaving no trace of her behind. No letter, no nothing. They couldn’t find anything and everyone immediately suspected the witch.

They burned her at the stake and she, feeling wronged, threatened the town with her upcoming return to steal all their children until the town went down in ruins.

Of course, that never happened and the only thing that’s left of that bedtime story is this book, reciting the legend and a small poem that’s supposed to help someone find their way to her lair.

Beneath the barren willow tree Eternal maiden of the light shall be The ticking clock appoints to three Three of service and so would be But beware the fickle call of darkness Its binds are full of lies and harshness Black and green won't lie to you Protect that which appeals for you

Most of it doesn’t make any sense but Jaebum at least can tell that he’s supposed to find a barren willow tree.

“Can you at least tell us why we’re going there? What are you gonna ask for if we find her?” Jinyoung tries again, this time much calmer and understanding. And yet Jaebum doesn’t respond.

Jackson sensing Jaebum’s hesitation jumps in to answer the question himself. “Well, I don’t know about you dinguses, but I’m gonna wish for Ana saying yes to one date!” he says, eyes staring ahead dazedly with a lovesick smile and Jaebum drowns a chuckle.

“Isn’t this like, kinda forcing her to go out with you though?” Jinyoung claims and Jackson groans.

“No, I mean I sure hope it’s not! I won’t ask for her to date me, I’m just asking for an opportunity to show her what an amazing boyfriend I’ll be!” Jackson claims and Jinyoung rolls his eyes even though a smile is etched on his features.

“I really doubt you need that man...” he admits and Jaebum agrees. It’s been really fun watching Jackson make a fool out of himself trying to impress her (he even tried moonwalking), but it would be even more fun if he actually didn’t impress her.

The girl is hella mad about him and the only person who can’t tell is Jackson.

Jackson smiles at Jinyoung’s words. “You really think so? I can’t wait to meet her tonight at the party! Wait till she sees my Luke Skywalker costume,” he says, taking out his fake lightsaber to swoosh in the air.

“Hm, but if she’s dressed like last year you won’t match...” Jaebum observes and Jackson lets out a heavy, dreamy sigh.

“Ah, yeah... The Madonna costume...” he says in a lovesick daze and Jinyoung rolls his eyes. Last year Ana went as Madonna for Halloween giving both Jackson and her mother a heart attack. Although it’s safe to say those reactions differed significantly.

Jaebum laughs but at least he’s glad for the distraction. He doesn’t have to answer Jinyoung’s question for now and he’s sure if Jinyoung knew Jaebum was actually searching for his dad like this, he’d be against it.

Jaebum’s dad left them when he was a kid. One day he was there and one day he wasn’t. No one knew where he went and Jaebum’s mother was inconsolable at first. Jaebum was barely 7 and his sister was barely 3. She didn’t remember him but Jaebum knew him long enough to miss him every day. And to wonder why.

“Anywho, what are you gonna wish for, Jinyoung?” Jackson asks as they keep walking deeper into the woods, the last lights of civilization far behind them as the air turns crisp and sharp.

Jinyoung shrugs before turning his head away as if embarrassed. “Nothing. I’m just here cause Jaebum asked us...” he admits and Jaebum finally turns to look at him. It’s not normal for Jinyoung to say such a thing. Normally he’d cringe, shoving anyone that even attempted a hug, not the type to admit to such feelings. Jaebum knows it’s a big deal so he smiles thankfully at his best friend.

Jackson whistles in mockery before playfully jabbing Jinyoung with his elbow. “Oh, is the ice king finally admitting he’s soft for his besties?” he says, well-intended and as Jinyoung shoves him away and tells him to piss off, he can’t help but smile as well.

The three of them have been best friends since diapers. Jaebum figures it’d be a cold day in hell if they ever got separated.

But as Jaebum ponders on that, his eyes catch what he’s been trying to locate on these woods. A barren willow tree.

His feet stop as a sudden stillness fills the air. The trees stand still, air no longer breezing in between the leaves, whatever woodland creatures that might have wandered around these parts long gone as the three friends stand beneath the tree.

It’s enormous, its branches spreading through the forest like veins, empty and dwindled, as the last few leaves fall to join the rest of their brothers on the ground. The silence unfurls, the only sound the sound of their breathing, as their chests heave with something. Something that makes the skin on their necks crawl and goosebumps to cover their hands.

Jaebum swallows the nerves crawling up his throat as he takes a step forward. His eyes, unwilling at first, follow down the trunk of the tree to see what lies beneath it. Just like the poem said.

But all he sees is a massive rock, empty and hollow on the inside as vines and moss cover the cold exterior.

His eyebrows furrow before diving back into the book. It’s supposed to be here.

Jinyoung lets out a shaky breath before shaking the feeling of uneasiness out of his head. “See, there’s nothing here. It’s just a hollow cave with barely enough space to fit a bear. We should go,” he comments carefully. But Jaebum ignores him in favour of the book.

“It’s supposed to be here, why isn’t it here?” Jaebum says frantically, as Jinyoung and Jackson exchange a look. Jackson moves forward, carefully placing a hand on Jaebum’s shoulder. “We can try next year, dude...”

Jaebum huffs in confusion. He can’t spend another year wondering. He can’t.

“Come on, let’s get to the party...” Jinyoung adds on and Jaebum can’t find any more strength to fight back, so he turns his back on the cave.

Until a sound emerges from its depths.

Jaebum turns to look back immediately, eyes traveling inside the cave in search for whatever made that sound. The darkness inside of it doesn’t help him much. Instead, it’s humid, eerie and somewhat enchanting. As if calling him to dive in. As if drawing him into that pure black that seems to have no way out.

Jinyoung heard the sound too. “What in the hell was that?” his eyes are wide in fear as Jackson takes a step back.

“Man, this is totally not tubular...” Jackson exclaims, diving into his fanny pack to get out his own flashlight as well. Both him and Jaebum redirect the light to lighten the inside of the cave but it seems to not work.

Then the sound reappears. But it’s more distinct. It’s high, yet soft and it sounds a lot like...

Meowing.

Wait. Meowing?

And just as Jaebum has that thought, a little black creature emerges from the cave, the culprit behind the sound and it stands before the three boys, staring at them curiously with it’s big, green eyes.

A cat.

Jinyoung sighs in relief and Jackson begins chuckling as soon as he sees the tiny animal staring at the three of them. “Jesus, man, I thought you were a bear or something...’

“Yeah, that’s what we all thought...” Jinyoung agrees quickly as Jaebum kneels down to look at the cat. For an animal living in the woods and having to fend for itself, it doesn’t look very wary of humans. The cat tilts its head as it looks back at Jaebum and he’s not crazy but he can swear the cat seems to look at him as if expecting him to talk.

So he does.

“We’re here for the witch...?” he begins confidently but the statement comes out more as a question as he realizes what he’s doing. He’s talking to a cat. He’s never gonna live this down.

But as he’s ready to get up and urge his friends to leave, the cat nods. It nods as if understanding Jaebum and then it nudges his hand. There’s a name tag around its neck but before Jaebum gets to read it the cat turns to look inside the cave. As if motioning for him to follow it.

Jaebum sucks in a breath. He was right. She was here. And as he stares more into the animal’s eyes he swears they glint with something else, something more aware.

Something more human.

“I’m dreaming. I’m definitely dreaming,” Jinyoung says with wide eyes as Jaebum waves at them to follow him. Jackson simply stares in awe as the inside of the cave illuminates by a warm, orange light. It reveals a much bigger space than before, the formation elongates into a corridor and as the three friends follow the cat inside the cave, they slowly notice the walls transforming. They grow tall, the humidity in the air dissipating as the vines and moss disappear from the walls and the rock turns to woods. The ground bellow them softly gives way for wood and floor and just as suddenly as they were in the cave, they’re now inside a small wooden cottage.

They turn to look behind them but the corridor has disappeared. There are only walls and a door behind them and the friends turn to look at each other in awe.

The house they’re into is small. Wooden floors creak at their steps and the smell of incense and sage fills their nostrils. There’s a table in front of them, big and high like an examining table but it’s full with small trinkets, branches of several plants and every kind of things Jaebum would expect to see on that movie his mother keeps watching, The Witches of Eastwick.

There’s also a fireplace behind the table, small enough to fit a cauldron that’s currently bubbling with something inside. If Jaebum is honest, he doesn’t want to know what’s in it.

The cat meows again, drawing the three boys’ attention to it. It sits on its rear legs next to the only armchair of the house, staring at them in wait. Jaebum can’t figure out what the cat is waiting from them, but for some reason, he can’t shake the feeling that the feline wants to tell him something. But cats can’t talk.

“Oh, I see my darling cat brought in some visitors!” comes a wrinkly but soft voice hiding in the shadows and at once all three of them turn towards the sound of the voice. They see an old woman walk forward. She’s small in size, Jaebum thinks, almost like a child, a shawl is spread around her shoulders like a blanket and her white hair graces her head like a cotton cloud. She seems to be limping, carefully walking forward with a cane in one hand as the other hides beneath her clothes.

Jaebum thinks she doesn’t look at all like a witch. At least not like what he imagined a witch would look like. She looks like someone’s grandma.

She smiles at the three men before a cracking sound comes from her bones. “Oh, would anyone of you boys be a dear and help an old woman to her armchair?” she calls calmly. Sweetly as if talking to her grandson and Jackson is immediately moving.

“Yes, ma’am, of course...” he replies, lending her his hand to support herself and she smiles thankfully at him.

“Oh my, what a young gentleman you are...” she keens as Jackson safely helps her to her armchair and as she sits down, Jaebum observes as the cat slowly walks away to stand in front of the warmth of the fireplace.

The woman, seeing Jaebum wondering stare rushes to explain. “She never was a particularly loving cat that one. I’m just happy she’s safe and warm here...” she comments gently, waving her hand dismissively in the air. At once a cup of liquid appears in the air and the woman reaches her hand a bit forward to catch it. The three boys look at her in astonishment, not quite sure if what they’ve witnessed is real but none seems to know what to say.

The woman (or, Jaebum thinks, the witch) notices their stares just as she takes a sip. “Oh, I’m awfully sorry, do you want some tea as well?” she asks with a welcoming smile and that seems to wake everyone up.

“Uhm, no, madam, thank you,” Jinyoung replies before he gulps, still too awed to say anything else. He’s still trying to process everything.

The woman shrugs before taking another sip. “Sit,” she says, almost commanding and suddenly all three of them found themselves being seated on three wooden chairs. “I assume you three fine young gentlemen are here for the wishes?” she asks ingeniously, looking at the friends from above her tea. The steam of the beverage rises above the cup, towards her hair, giving her an otherworldly aura as if her white hair keeps moving along with the wind.

“How do you know that madam?” Jaebum questions suspiciously but the woman only chuckles at his naivety.

“Oh, please, why else would you be here?” she observes cleverly and Jaebum swallows his words because, well, she’s right.

He doesn’t know what else to say though. This is something he’s been thinking for the past few months, finding the witch and using the wish to find out about his father. But now the words won’t come out. They get stuck in his throat, suddenly this all expedition feels wrong and he can’t shake the feeling of uneasiness prickling at his bones.

“So which one of you will go first?” the woman asks sweetly.

When none of them answers, Jackson decides to speak up. “I guess that’s me,” he chuckles before dragging his chair forward to get closer to the woman. “There’s this girl from my high school and I was wondering...”

But Jaebum misses the rest of the conversation when he feels something against his leg. He looks down curiously to see the cat rubbing softly against his leg. Once again her eyes meet his and he’s certain that those aren’t just normal cat eyes. There’s something off about that cat, something telling him it isn’t just a simple cat.

Then with a graceful jump, she ends up on his lap, paws pressing against his legs as if preparing her bed. Then she curls upon him, her big, green eyes staring back at him, through him and he can’t tell if he’s losing his mind or not but it seems like the cat is trying to tell him something.

The woman’s shrill chuckle shakes Jaebum out of his thoughts as he finds the woman staring at the cat on his lap with an indecipherable look in her eyes.

“Seems she likes you...” she comments mysteriously, eyes boring holes through the cat that shifts uncomfortably on Jaebum’s legs. Jaebum senses an air of animosity towards the animal and when his eyes find the woman’s, he’s sure it’s not just his imagination.

“Seems like it, yeah,” he responds with a steady voice and a level gaze at the witch. She seems to be taken aback at his reply but she’s quick to replace her shocked expression with a calm, saccharine one.

Then she returns her attention back to Jackson’s wish and the cat seems to relax once more. Jaebum’s gaze falls to the animal on his lap once more, and once again she looks back. He can’t shake the feeling that...

That her eyes are human.

The cat nudges her head against his palm as if wanting to be petted and Jaebum would have done exactly that if he didn’t take notice of the name tag on the cat’s neck. His fingers reach for the metallic pendant, eyes wary, for some reason not wanting the witch to realise what he’s doing. But she seems too engrossed in Jackson’s story as he drags it out.

So with a bated breath, Jaebum turns around the pendant.

Y/N, it reads.

Confusion engulfs him. Where has he seen that name before?

After a few seconds, it hits him.

It’s the name of the girl that disappeared all these years ago.

His eyes widen and he gasps.

The sound gathers the witch’s attention on him again. “What’s wrong, dear?” she asks carefully but Jaebum can see the calculating glint in her eyes. The cat meows softly on his lap, in a warning.

“I, uh, nothing, nothing, I just...” he gulps, struggling to find something to appease the witch without raising her suspicions. “Ah, the cat, she accidentally scratched me...” he responds swiftly, hoping that’ll be enough.

The witch looks at him suspiciously but doesn’t say anything else on the matter. “And you?”

Jaebum’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

The witch smiles. “What’s your wish?”

Jaebum freezes. He knows what his wish is. He knows what he came here for and yet his eyes fall back into the cat. Or rather, you. The girl that disappeared all those years ago at the age of 18, at his age and suddenly none of it feels right.

He doesn’t know what to wish for.

“I, uhm...” he begins unsure, but then his eyes rest on the space above the fireplace. Where a brown, leather book stands and immediately he remembers a passage from the book currently hiding in his bag.

There’s a book rumoured to exist. A book that contains numerous spells the witch uses but also the spell to rid the witch of her powers so she can no longer hurt anyone. A book bound in leather and spells, containing such evil and darkness within but also the salvation for anyone under the witch’s influence. The book’s never been found.

Jaebum bets his walkman that’s said book.

He quickly returns his stare at the cat, for if he wants to be successful he must show no sign of interest in the book.

“I want the cat,” he finally replies, raising his proud stare to look at the witch. Jackson and Jinyoung look at Jaebum as if he’s gone mad and yet the witch’s expression hasn’t changed. She stares stoically at Jaebum, face not at all revealing any of her thoughts and yet there’s a storm brewing in her grey eyes that glint almost silver.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” she finally replies. But her voice is different. It’s low, grave and threatening almost like a growl and Jaebum can feel prickles of fear on his skin.

Yet he perseveres.

“Why not?” he raises his chin up defiantly and he can see the old woman fuming. Good, that means it’s working.

“Because!” she yells suddenly, losing her composure for a second. But then she schools her face back into that sweet expression, that one that now seems to Jaebum sickeningly sweet.

“Because she’s my only companion here. It can be very, very lonely being alone in the woods. I’m sure you wouldn’t wish that for anyone, now would you?” she stares intensely at him and Jaebum can understand that it’s a threat.

So he sighs heavily as if he’s disappointed. “I guess you’re right madam. But I really liked this one...” he complains, waiting for the witch’s reaction.

The woman sighs. “I can’t give you the cat, but I can give you anything else you ask for...” she makes a promise, hoping the promise of something grander will draw him away from the cat but what she doesn’t know is that Jaebum wants exactly that.

“Anything...?” he asks innocently and once it seems like he got the bait the witch smiles victoriously.

“Anything! A witch’s promise is a deal! I will give you anything you ask of me, this I swear!” she proclaims and at once a slight breeze flies through the room even if all the windows and doors are sealed. It’s her magic, taking effect once her promise was out in the wind and now she really has to do anything he asks of her.

And that’s exactly what he wants.

He points to the book. “I want that.”

Once her gaze falls to the item, her face pales. The once sweet smile is wiped off her face, instead a scowl appearing in its place. Her hair begins moving once again as if enchanted and she stands up from her armchair, not needing anyone’s help anymore.

The three boys look at her in horror as her figure elongates and her skin darkens, bones and limbs growing longer and slimmer, resembling branches of a tree. Her fingernails grow, darkening as her fingers crack and turn in weird angles and her feet drag across the floor, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. Her shawl falls off to the floor forgotten, and the white in her eyes disappears completely, now being an electric silver as if seeing lightning. Her face pulls down as if someone is dragging the skin down but her movements don’t stop.

The boys hiss, covering their ears as the cat begins yowling at the witch, ears drown back as her back hunches in alarm but the witch pays them no mind. Her long, bony fingers wrap around the book and she slowly turns around towards Jaebum. Then she moves again forwards as if she’s floating on the air and with heavy movements, she passes Jaebum the book.

Jaebum watches the exchange in alarm, a wicked grin covering the witch’s face from ear to ear, abnormally stretched and revealing the insides of her rotten mouth.

“I’m only giving this to you boy because I have to. You can use it for only one spell and if I find out that you tried to steal it from me, or use it to harm me and my way of living, there won’t be any of you left to tell the story...” her voice is low and deadly, like a whisper as it makes the fine hair on Jaebum arms rise. He swallows nervously, accepting the book with a nod of his head.

“Thank you, madam, I promise I’ll return the book as soon as I use my spell, this I promise!” he repeats the incantation the witch have said before, not because it will take effect, after all, there’s no magic in him, but because he hopes it shows a level of respect towards the witch in front of him.

The witch looks at him for a second, still looming over him in all her wickedness and then she’s back to how she was before; a charming old lady needing some company.

The three boys blink in surprise at the sudden transition but before they get to say anything else, the air around them feels like it’s shrinking and them with it. Like someone is sucking away the contents of the room at the other end, from where they came from. The cat jumps off him, staring at him one last time as Jaebum feels something pulling him backwards and the last thing they see before being dropped out of the cave is the witch’s evil smile.

Suddenly the three of them are outside in the woods again, in front of the cave that now seems normal once more. Jaebum shakes off the leaves from him before he opens up the book and begins searching frantically.

“Jaebum what in the world are you doing?!” Jinyoung yells once he’s up again, approaching him with enraged steps as Jaebum reads quickly page after page.

Jackson is quick to agree with Jinyoung. “Yeah, man what the hell was that? Did you really want a cat from the witch? We could get you one from the mall!”

“Can you just stop talking for a second, I need to find the spell...” he mumbles, irritated by his friends’ interference but they don’t seem too keen on listening to him.

“No, we can’t until you explain to us what in the fudge was that!” Jinyoung insists, voice strict and commanding and Jaebum takes a breath.

“The cat was not a cat, she’s a girl that disappeared when the witch was still alive and this book contains the spell that strips the witch of her magic and I have to find it before she realizes what I’m about to do!” Jaebum grits through his teeth as he turns page after page, searching for the correct spell.

Jinyoung’s left staring at him speechless and at least he’s not bothering anymore as he searches for the spell.

Jackson is the first to react. “Wait, Jaebum, are you sure? How could you tell, I mean, come on, that cat couldn’t be a human-”

“Yeah and at the beginning of this trip you didn’t believe we’d find the witch but look at us now,” he replies swiftly as his eyes run down the pages until-.

He found it.

I seek to rid someone of power I seek to find the truth behind I seek to burn the evil cower The undeserving to unbind

And he begins chanting it out loud. From what he knows he must certainly recount it at least three times before it takes effect.

Jinyoung and Jackson stare at him in shock, not quite sure what to do but as Jaebum begins chanting for the third time, the cave starts to shake.

He stops only for a second before he begins chanting again. A wind picks up between the trees, howling and whistling in anger as the branches dive down to search for the one recounting the spell. But Jaebum doesn’t deter, he chants louder and louder, the wind now almost taking the book out of his hands but he knows the spell by heart by now.

He chants and chants and the cave doesn’t stop shaking and then a shrill screams echoes through its depths, sharp and horrifying and blood curdling before a black shadow comes rushing through from inside the cave. The scream gets louder as the shadow approaches and once it’s out it dissipates with a loud bang, finally disappearing through the air and the scream fades away.

The cave stops shaking and the wind stops.

And then as Jaebum stares at his hands the book turns to dust and disappears as well.

His two friends are left staring at him in shock. They don’t know what to do or say and honestly Jaebum doesn’t either.

But then a cough sounds from inside the cave. A female one.

Jaebum turns his head towards the hollow only to see a young girl, you, walking out. You cough into your hand as the smoke around you dissipates, your long hair unruly and messy, dressed in a white blouse, a black-laced vest and a brown peasant skirt.

You are the girl that disappeared hundreds of years ago and yet you’re still alive.

Jaebum is frozen in his spot, staring at you and too afraid to move. For some reason, fearing that if he’d move you’d disappear.

Only when you stumble on a tree root, he jolts back to awareness and rushes to help you.

He grabs you by the arm to stabilize you as you seem to not have found your footing just yet.

“Are you okay?” he asks quickly, not knowing you one bit but wanting to make sure you’re alright.

You turn to look at him and once your eyes meet, he knows it was you. That it wasn’t all just in his head.

You nod your head, tears prickling at your eyes from the smoke. “Yes, I think I am...” comes out your rough voice, probably from not speaking for 300 years. Then you turn to look at Jinyoung and Jackson, admittedly a bit bewildered by their clothing but you’re well aware that it’s been hundreds of years since your time and things were bound to change.

You swallow nervously, your throat closing up. “Thank you...” you say softly, “for saving me...” you add as you turn to look at the man holding you up. Truth is he’s quite handsome, sending a reddening blush to your cheeks but you chastise yourself. You shouldn’t feel that way for a strange man. Maybe he’s betrothed and that would be improper.

Jaebum swallows the nervousness that arises in him when he meets your eyes. “No problem... Y/N, right?” he asks just to make sure.

You nod at him as you softly remove your hand from his, now that you feel like you can walk again. “And you are?”

Jaebum face falls just a bit but he’s quick to hide it. “I’m Jaebum, and this is Jinyoung and Jackson,” he responds instead, pointing at his friends.

You turn around to greet them when the one called Jinyoung steps in front of you with wide eyes. You gasp, taking you by surprise and you take a step back, suddenly too overwhelmed with the man’s proximity.

“Are you really the girl that disappeared?” he asks in wonderment and you realize that he doesn’t seem hostile. Only curious.

“Yes. I realized that around the time the witch started granting people’s wishes, a lot of women from my village started losing their unborn children. Once I realized it was the witch’s fault, she turned me into a cat and I could never leave her sight,” you reply softly, eyes downcast as you barely remember pieces of your previous life.

“Until we came along...” says the other boy named Jackson with a boyish grin in an attempt to cheer you up and, indeed, it draws a smile on your lips as you agree with him.

The other boy, Jaebum, coughs into his hands and you turn to look at him curiously. “So, uhm... Do you have a place to stay?” he says but he quickly slaps himself in the forehead.

Of course she doesn’t you airhead!

Your eyes widen with the realization, that no, you do not. How are you supposed to survive in a place that you don’t know anyone and in a time that’s not your own?

“You can stay with one of us! I’m sure our parents won’t mind!” Jackson rushes to say, a helpful smile on his lips and you look at him bewildered.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask that of you, you already did so much...” you reply, feeling overwhelmed by their offer.

“It’s no problem, really! And we can teach you all you need to know about this time so you’ll adjust!” Jinyoung adds on and the truth is it doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“Of course we understand if you feel uncomfortable with that...” Jaebum is quick to say, obviously the only one that realized you might be wary of the idea because they’re all men.

The other two guys exclaim in realization as they agree.

“Well, in that case, I think you’d be better off living with Jaebum. He has a little sister and his mother would probably beat up anyone that tried to hurt you...”Jinyoung chuckles at his joke but Jaebum only seems to fluster with the attention.

“It’s true...” he admits nervously, “My mother is kind of a tough cookie...”

But when he sees your face of confusion he rushes to explain. “It means she’s strong. And she always takes care of us,” he admits out loud and seeing your eyes twinkle in wonderment he realizes it was the right thing to say.

You ponder on it for a second before you turn to them again. Ready for your answer.

“It would be lovely if I could stay for a few nights until I get my bearings. If your mother agrees of course...” you conclude with a shy smile and Jaebum feels himself smile as well.

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” he replies, for once certain he made the right choice.

#kwritersworldnet #jaebum #got7 #got7 jaebum #jaebum fanfic #got7 fanfic #jaebum drabble #got7 drabble #jaebum supernatural #got7 supernatural #jinyoung #jackson #witch au #jaebum witch au #got7 witch au #halloween themed #jaebum halloween themed #got7 halloween themed #halloween requests

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emeraldsiren19 · 4 years

Text

Open letter to Star Wars fandom post-Tros

The insanity of the SW fandom has truly peaked. And people wonder why outsiders don't touch them with a fifty foot pole.

There are not enough expletives (btw 'kriff' doesn't exist in the GFFA but that's a topic for another day) in the English language for the disgrace, mockery, idiocy and so on that has permeated what could be an otherwise great fandom. I have been a SW fan my whole life and will continue to be forever, but there are hills I will die on.

All of this "JJ ruined SW forever and Terrio is a saint, etc!?!" bullshit combined with "oh don't pick on poor Daisy..no one told her anything about her character" makes the folks who regurgitate the drivel appear to have their hostility set in the wrong place. No one can possibly believe what they are preaching to be fact.

Everything is clearly mapped out as it happened and nothing is cryptic. It would smash you into the pavement like a bus for how blatant it is. Obviously people believe what they want but presenting lies as law does no one any favors.

JJ.didn't.write.shit. Repeat it out loud as many times as necessary. Everyone and their dog in Hollywood knows that. How he and Terrio are not blacklisted for their extensive career bombs when anyone else wouldn't get away with it remains a mystery. Everyone knows he stole writing credit from lots of people. That's just from SW without the rest of his 'filmography'. Don't ever him credit for being *anything* other than having sand for brains. If you think he's the fucking mastermind behind anything, he's got you exactly where he wants you, wrapped around his finger. That's how hacks operate. He is responsible for the shit editing job of TROS where the editing crew was threatened with their jobs if it was not done in a certain way under a certain unrealistic time crunch. That is why TROS was so choppy and nonsensical, not taking into consideration Terrio's very explicit hate for anything in the franchise not related to Luke or Rey. He is responsible for forcing Adam Driver to do ADR dialogue in his own fucking closet out of sheer vindication.

There is hypocrisy and disrespect to levels that it's impossible to recover from. DLF went out of its way, above and beyond even, with gaslighting and erasure to destroy the entire franchise in one film. In December, people said they were done with SW because DLF had crushed them and they would never recover but they would still love it.

Funny how that took a spin in the opposite direction since people hate it with a white hot passion. Only SW fandom would choose to not abandon something they hate in favor of unhealthy hatred. 'Fans' directing their anger toward boycotting the entire franchise instead of ignoring the bad film as any other franchise does. It is done with such vocal energy that it has become the popular vote and anyone who doesn't agree with the hate is an outcast. Essentially becoming the angry antis that they claim to hate in the same breath.

And don't even start on the utter bullshit of Rey's parentage. The latest conspiracy theory, advocated by DR herself, would have you believe that she has equal sand for brains and doesn't know shit about her own character, and that Rey Nobody of Jakku was nothing more than Resistance propaganda and never existed. That TFA and TLJ are figments of our imagination and the highly respected Rian Johnson is not only a slave driver but a hack who knows nothing. He knows a hell of a lot more than Terrio and JJ combined. If you seriously believe that Daisy knows nothing about her own character when every other actor knows more than the writers, you're equally conned. Daisy didn't pay attention or didn't care because that meant working, which she bitched about she shouldn't have to do. Like JB, she wants to be seen as the poor abused victim.

When TFA and TLJ were at the forefront, no one had any issues whatsoever with Rey of Jakku being related to no one. Rian even said as much. But he and George Lucas who created the franchise know nothing. Neither does Lawrence Kasdan and his cowriter Michael Arndt. Lucas explicitly said during PT filming that Palpatine had no offspring, and people who aren't even involved in the fandom know that the Dark Side tells you anything you want to hear. Why the bloody fuck anyone with functioning braincells would take anything that TROS claims to be true as gospel fact "because it's onscreen which makes it true".

It fucking cancelled 9 previous films and people choose to accept with open arms the same literal pile of shit they said destroyed them over the 9 films that have almost no flaws by comparison. Cancel out any love, family, fairytales, hope, because a shit for brains writer (Terrio) chose to annihilate them to become the tale of St Luke and the Virgin Rey.

Why? What is the logic or purpose behind the Stockholm Syndrome which DLF initiated that TROS is Gospel Law, everything else is heresy and Rey Nobody never existed?

I can tell you right now without any doubt that Carrie Fisher and Peter Mayhew are both rolling in their graves at the utter hurricane of disrespect and mockery that has swept over the franchise. George Lucas is likely regretting his choice to sell LF to Disney after the atrocity of TROS. Why are people giving the antis/fanboys whom they claim to abhor as much power as they have?

That's not even touching any widely publicized offscreen drama involving the actors. Adam made the wise decision to cut all ties. DR and Reylos were harassed by JB. They probably don't recall boycotting him as a result. Kelly Tran was harassed by fanboys and thrown under the bus by JB and JJ. In addition, neither JB nor DR can find work after their stunts (she trashed Adam and Rian at a full cast press conference for making her actually work during TLJ). Now he's hoping people will conveniently forget what an ass he was to everyone. Interesting how Adam, Kelly, and the rest of the cast are having zero issues finding work.

In a nutshell, Rey may not be my favorite character by a long shot. Kylo deserved better. The Force thought they belonged together. But NO ONE (actor or character) deserved the fucking lazy bullshit copout story that was given to them by hack 'writer' Terrio and 'I can't finish any story' director JJ. Carrie was a script doctor and would have beaten the shit out of Terrio. The extent of her revenge on JJ would be haunting him but he isn't even worth that much effort.

People have forgotten that or they don't care anymore. At which point move on. But that doesn't give someone license to trash an entire fandom with blatant lies out of spite as retribution. Don't create conspiracy theories that experts (the writers of TFA/TLJ and actors) have explicitly said are the opposite.

#tros salt #dont support dlf #shame on everyone buying into gaslighting

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bbnibini · 3 years

Text

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – fifty🔖

the aftermath of Mammon’s normal ending

Taking Mammon's hand that day and promising a new beginning with him was one of the best decisions you've ever made. You've acknowledged your shortcomings not only as a partner but also as a person. It was still an ongoing process but, Mammon's smiles seemed to be returning to normal---gone was the awkwardness of your interactions, seeing a side of him--the real him with how he supported you despite your breakup. His affections and his awkward way of caring was very him, and you liked reminding him how much you appreciated him as a friend because of it: something you lacked, or overlooked when you were still dating. The way his brothers feigned indifference was uncanny however. Emotionally stunted demons who couldn't tell their family how much they worried about him straight to his face, relying on your intervention to relay their messages. And when you told Mammon about this, he only laughed, and with surprising depth and understanding,said:

"I know."

And that's when you began learning about the real side of Mammon, Avatar of Greed. A growing appreciation for him as an individual, tainted no more by illusions brought upon by your rose-coloured glasses. You have grown closer to an extent that Levi felt threatened of his position--in an ironic twist of fate, your favourite demon serpent intervened with your hangouts with Mammon instead of locking away in his room, incensed and confused with your closeness after his assumptions that "couples who break up hate each other". Even Lucifer said you were both strange, and was even suspicious of you if you were stringing his brother along again--you didn't say anything, more understanding than offended by his accusations, and instead itched to tell Mammon about how Lucifer was so concerned over him, almost to a doting extent. He needs to hear this right now. That someone cares. Someone loves him. You didn't believe Asmodeus when he told you of it, and was only convinced when you witnessed the firstborn's protective tendencies firsthand. There was a timid smile on his face when you told him, calling you his usual "insults" that poorly masked his obvious fondness of you to hide his embarrassment.

"Don't be stupid."

There were times however, when you drew the line; especially apparent during your time away from RAD. Lucifer wanted you apart, understandably fearful that either you or Mammon would persist on your toxic, codependent relationship. Mammon kept his word that day, showing more honesty with his affections, and you, in a funny reversal of roles, were now shying away from him. You were mindful of Lucifer's warnings and constantly reminded him that you still had feelings for someone else---a someone who you didn't even know if he really existed or was just a part of your dreams.

The blanket he gave you was well-kept and was one of the first items you packed carefully in your luggage at your impending departure from RAD. The letter as well, was hidden somewhere for safekeeping. You contented yourself with reading from photocopies, often earning a disgusted look from Levi who told you,

"Yuck." in all the eloquence he could care to muster at some "normie letter" he knew better that you'd be happier without.

The receipt was also stowed away, often a source of your 3 AM "investigations" that you were more concerned about than studying for your finals. At some nights, when you were feeling particularly lonely, you'd like to think that he was the one who left the umbrella in the park, hence his feverish kisses that night. It was a stretch however. A coincidence among coincidences. A girlish dream you'd like to hold onto, keeping your toxic ideals for his and his alone.

At least let me be a hypocrite for once.

Speaking of coincidence among coincidences, you were shocked to see wilted flowers in your locker---an extravagant bouquet of pink carnations that had now lost its beauty. Satan confessed to giving one to you, but was visibly confused when you mentioned the word "bouquet" instead.

"Its message is wasted by opulence. My feelings and desire to comfort you at the time would be misinterpreted with such lavishness."

"So…you didn't give this to me?"

He procured a single carnation from the wilted pile and twisted the stem with his fingers. "Perhaps it's your mystery man."

Your traitorous heart hoped once again, beating erratically upon his revelation. Satan immediately regretted his words and said,

"I'm sorry. Perhaps I should have lied to you instead, but his pettiness offended me and I listened to my anger." He sounded pouting, explaining that he could only assume that your secret admirer left the lavish gift after seeing his modest one. "Whoever he is, he's a sore loser."

You were inclined to agree.

The festival was anticlimactic as you were busy organising the event as student exchange representative. The other exchange students did check up on you from time-to-time, usually an excitable Luke who gave you his baked goods for the day, or a kind and gentle Simeon who offered to hear your thoughts as stress relief. Solomon was there occasionally, often when one of the two were around. You finally took Simeon's offer one very stressful day and like a true messenger of God, he listened to you with a kind ear. "I'm sorry to hear about that. Loving someone unknown to you must be very difficult."

"It is. But…the more I find out about the little things he did for me…the more I grow to love him. Oh Simeon, I'm hopeless. He's out there somewhere and he doesn't even want me to find him!"

"..."

"I'd say," Solomon interjected and cut through the thick tension that unknowingly built up in the room. "...to not look for him entirely. He sounds like a fickle and no-good man."

"A sincere advice from an unexpected source." You feigned a shocked expression as mockery. "Are you speaking from experience?"

"It takes one to know one." he laughed lightly, turning to Simeon. "Isn't that right?"

"I don't know." Simeon answered. "They sound pretty dedicated. What if they do find him someday with that tenacity?"

"Oh! A throwdown! How exciting. Will he be beaten into a pulp? Can I watch?"

"Shut up. Simeon and I are having a moment here! Go away!"

Thanks to Solomon's constant badgering however, your heart-to-heart talks with Simeon were constantly interrupted. It persisted until the end of your exchange program so you had to settle for text messages and your angel friend's love-hate relationship with his DDD. No such heart-to-heart was ever accomplished.

The mystery behind Belphegor's knowledge about your locker was only solved at your final moments in RAD when everyone was bidding you goodbye. His expression shifted once you brought out the topic, and he leaned to your ear to whisper ominous words that sent shivers down your spine.

Ÿ̶̟̪̟̫́͘ö̷̧̢̞́̽͌ͅu̵͍̎ ̷̧̟͙͕̿̈͝s̵̩̭̬̾̏̈́̀ͅe̴̝̟͉̞͂͊͌r̸͕̊i̸̼̅̓͐͘ơ̶̦̫͍͉͊̃̒ǘ̴̡̖̲̇͝s̴̪͠l̶͚̟͔̆͛̿͘͜y̴̢̆͆̔ ̸̯̐͝t̷̞͈͚̒̈́h̴̰̠͇͘i̸̟̭͒̂͘ņ̸͙͓͇̑͘k̴̟̻̟͕̈́́̅̍ ̴͇̔͐̋̌I̷̩̊̈́̽ ̵̛̰̲̬͗ẇ̷͇̃͛ǫ̶̫̲̩̔̾ư̷̙̤͛̒͒ļ̵͈̃̈́͋̕d̴͖̠̀͆͐͜n̸̨͍̯̬͌̈́̀'̶̣̎̈́͌̃t̸̳͍͓̊̀̌ ̷̹̈̓̒͘k̶̝͈͙̔̓́n̴͕̼̕ͅǫ̷̖̖̰̌͝ẃ̷̗̤̫͠ͅ?̵̧̝̳̿"̵̪͈͊̓̎ ̸̢̧̡̈́

The dark look in his eyes dissipated as you pulled away, but his whisper of a tone remained threatening.

"D̸̲͙ͅo̴̢̰͙͚͉̘̼͒̍̍̍̿ň̷͓͉͙̝̱͇̐̈́̏'̸̬̲̙̭͚̱̆t̷̟̦̼͊̐̆ ̴͎͖̙̬̥̃̆̚͜k̶̲̲̝͖͓͚̕ệ̶̭̰͇̇͜ḙ̶̯̤͖̰̬͐̑͂͐̓p̸͙͖̙̽͂̾̓͜͠ ̵̧̨͎̺̝́́͜͜ș̶̯̍̋e̴̞̮̫̪͉͌́̓̿̈́͝͠c̷̨̮̲̺̭̼̝̈́̈́r̴̢̻͊͒͊͋̕͝ȩ̸̻̻̥͕͎̍̈́ẗ̵͎́́͊̊̅͋s̸̢̝̠͍̫̣̻̆̂̃ ̴̨̝̪̬̉̃̾̾f̴̱̰̬̘̹̒͑͂̆̚ͅr̵̘̈́̋͐ơ̵͕̰̾̓̈́̉m̸̢̛̩̫̤̘̫̹̐̒̌͆͝ ̴̡̡̪̺͉͎͐̾͗͘͠ͅm̸̘͓̭̳͈̂͂ê̸̢̼̠͇͐̏̾̑ ̸̛̜̭̰͍̪͈̦̌̎̓̊e̸̛̹̩̖̼̽͐͝ṿ̷̤̲̱͎͌͜ȇ̷̠̈́͠r̸̫̂̄̉͋̐̎̉ ̴̧̳̩͉̔̂̔̀̕̚͜͝a̴̹̱̬̙͈̾͗͐͘͠͝ģ̶̨̝̺̩̠̫̍̔̉̋à̷͓͔̌̍̽̅̆͋ͅi̷̼͖͍̠̗̙͕̿n̷̯͇̯.̵͇̱̊̈́̑̄"̴̤̋͒͗̚

You were only thankful that you asked on your departure, for you didn't really know how to face him after his threats.

Just like that, a few months had passed since you left Devildom and you were back to the monotony of your everyday life. Oftentimes, you catch yourself reminiscing to your rowdier days, wondering about several things.

What could have happened to him? Was he doing fine wherever he is? Did he miss you as much as you missed him?

Was he even real at all?

His touch lingered on your lips sometimes, subsided only by the reality of the heartache he had left you. A more sensible side of you entertained thoughts of moving on from him, and sometimes even attempted to do so in actuality.

But every date was a failure.

They weren't sensitive enough. Not eloquent enough. Not gentle enough. Not shy enough. Not…him.

"Stop being so picky." your friends would say, but you were afraid of inadvertently hurting someone again with your ideals. So before your date could even open up to you, you would chicken out.

"I can't do this…" you said in your nth group date, already at the door with your flustered friend persuading you to reconsider.

"But he's hot!"

"And he's not my type!"

You bolted out of the door…or at least you thought you did. Your head collided with a leather jacket instead, cushioned by the impact of your little accident by the man's carefully timed catch.

"Woah there. Careful." said the eerily familiar voice that made you look up.

"You know this handsome stranger?" your friend excitedly asked as they called your name, but you were too stunned in silence to answer. He was the one who answered for you instead.

"Thanks. I'm Mammon by the way!

Their first."

[ MEMORIA 9: ~His Gravitas~ unlocked. ]

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💌masterlist

#psisly #hamartia series #obey me #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #interactive fiction #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #love letter #secret admirer

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adrischrv · 4 years

Text

REGNUM [L.H] - Chapter 5

Author´s Note: Chapter 5 of my king!luke fic already, we finally meet Duke!Michael tho! English is not my first language so lemme know if there are any mistakes.

Word count: 3,808

C1 - C2 - C3 - C4

I have never felt so nervous. Not even the day I arrived at Gardenstone did I remember feeling the headache and tension that had been eating away at me since the night before.

I´d committed great disrespect to the King. I had hurt Luke who- no matter how much he deserved it- was still a possible ally. I could hear my mother scolding me once I was in front of her: “I raised you better than this! You are the Princess of Maredale, Amberly Sarah Campbell! Are you proud of your actions? Your actions affect the entire kingdom and you forgot all about it…"

“Your Highness” Calum spoke on the other side of the door. I opened it and he didn’t smile. “The King wants to see you. The parliament is gathered together with His Majesty Ashton and Queen Elizabeth.”

“Let’s go.”

I avoided the looks at all costs. I did not want to show the fear in my eyes as we walked to the parliament office in the farthest part of the palace. I wouldn’t let Luke look at me either. He would call me a coward and I would not be able to deny it, after all - I was the cowardly princess.

I was lost enough reliving Luke’s words in my head that I hadn’t noticed when we arrived at the office. I did not greet the parliament, a mistake my mother would repeat to me until the end of time.

Calum escorted me to a table with them around at a considerable distance sitting seriously in their seats, with Luke in front of me behind a dais and Ashton behind him. I barely got a good look at him, nor did we make eye contact.

Murmurs began to pour out around me, I couldn’t tell anything from them. I let my head formulate its phrases; surely they were a punishment.

Luke took a few seconds before he shut up the parliament, looked at me waiting for me to say something.

He was giving me a chance to defend myself before I was sentenced.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice was loud and firm enough to achieve silence and get attention. Luke leaned over on the dais inviting me to continue.

“I’m deeply sorry, Your Majesty. I know what I did was truly disrespectful and I regret it.”

From the corner of my eye I saw Ashton whispering something to Calum, he stood up and lowered his shoulders in confusion. Luke’s gaze remained fixed on me for a few seconds, he lowered it, and with a mocking smile, he stood upright again.

“Although your apology was touching, Princess, that’s not why you’re here today.”

Oh…

… What a piece of shit.

“An informant arrived in the early morning from the Gardenstone/Maredale border, apparently there are people-families who have decided to cross that border without the use of official documents thanks to a petition that was approved. The people who cross from Maredale to live with their relatives in Gardestone are asking to have a voice in this kingdom, someone to represent them.”

I had warned him, I did. He signed a petition without reading it and these were the consequences. My mother must have found out days before and this was Luke’s way of dealing with his mistakes without fully recognizing them. Nothing foolish about that.

“Migration has always existed, Your Majesty, why are you asking for this representation now?”

He had more than understood what I was getting at but since I had humiliated myself in front of parliament, the most I could do was to see Luke dismantle his intentions in the wake of his mistakes.

He rolled his eyes, he knew well what I wanted.

“It was not necessary before since this migration was moderate. Now, they can come and go as they please, something that had not been considered possible except for the union that Maredale and Gardestone were going to make.”

"They were”, not “they are” or even “they could”… he really didn’t like the idea.

“Due to this lack of control we will give them what they need and the parliament present with me has come to the conclusion that it is you, your highness” He began to talk heavily, it was hard for him to ask for help. “If you wish to extend your stay in Gardestone, the position of Ambassador is available and eager to be filled.”

Bingo.

This was my chance to be something more, to be useful. My mouth and my thirst to be needed again were ready to say yes…

“It would be an honor to represent my kingdom in this way… but first, I would like a moment alone with His Majesty, if possible.”

In the background, Ashton smiled with approval at my action. I heard my mother’s heels in the distance.

I took the way the parliament cleared the room too quickly as a silent “Thank you”. Something told me that moments before the discussion with their new King had not pleased them and had left them tired.

Luke came down from the dais, hands in his pockets and a tired, disinterested expression but still hard enough to make people kiss his feet. Emphasis on “the people”- me being the exception.

“So? What does the little Maredale beetle have to say?” He laughed when I opened my mouth in protest. “Don’t start, be thankful that last night’s slap will only cost you the mockery.”

He wasn’t just talking about the nickname.

“Why didn’t you tell me what this was all about before…?”

“What for? You humiliated yourself pretty well on your own. And yet I stopped you before I got you down on your knees in front of me… Don’t worry, you’ll do that on another more private occasion. That’s the equivalent of another nickname, dipstick.”

Asshole.

Although his words served the purpose of distracting me, I had to get back to the important issue where I was in control. Because he needed me, to see him admitting it was far from happening but I could take that tiny advantage.

“I accept the position, representing my people,“ I spoke out, or so I thought. “On one condition… I want to be treated as such.”

The laughter that he sent out echoed through the room, at least all the people in the corridor had heard it.

“I’m serious,” I said. He mockingly composed himself. “We are both sick of dealing with the princess. As long as I’m an ambassador I’ll make a living on my own, you can pretend the princess isn’t here and I’ll keep her quiet. I promise. I just want to help.”

He raised an eyebrow with interest.

“That means you’d be serving me too, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

I tried to hide my doubts from his words. If I wanted to be respected I really had to stop living in my mother’s shadow. I couldn’t give up the title, but this deal was taciturn and only until my obligations needed the part of me with a kingdom as my inheritance.

Besides, the princess had nothing to do but observe Luke’s poor decisions. In this way, I would also observe Luke’s poor decisions - even more closely, but I could satiate the needs of the Maredans and I could do so with my own voice.

“I’m serious.” I analyzed the remnants of doubt in him. “Don’t worry about my mother, I’ll talk to her and she’ll understand, I know.“

He snorted, caressed the cheek on which my slap was. He put his hand down and walked over to me, holding it out.

He said, “We have a deal, prin… Amberly.”

The title change made me smile, just a little, as I shook his hand. Then I saw his blue eyes with malice tints disguised. I understood the discreet warning he had given me seconds before, "That means you’d be serving me too, you don’t know what you’re saying,” and no, I didn’t.

My hand shook slightly when I turned the knob in the room my mother was occupying. I walked in a circle down the hall five minutes earlier, organizing my thoughts and how I would explain the business of being an ambassador. After all, I was qualified to be an ambassador; those classes were not in vain. Even if I wasn’t running a country, something was better than nothing and I would defend my position.

“Amberly?”

She spoke from her seat in front of the dresser as a couple of maids packed their things, walking back and forth.

“Go ahead, little one. I was going to look for you before I left just as parliament was meeting” I felt invited into the room by the gesture of her hand, as elegant as ever. “I thought you would be with King Ashton or his sister.”

“Oh, no,“ I said, taking a seat in the corner of his bed. “By the way, what do you think of them, Mother?”

She moved the cigarette holder she was holding in one hand, looking for the answer to my question.

“They are both here while their political advisor directs and cares for Lauxwell. It’s a risky move… Do you know why they do it, to visit Gardenstone?”

Great, I had gotten a trivia lesson by accident.

I forced myself to think about it, curious that I hadn’t done it before. “One, to show Luke that even if it was for a few lousy months they had more experience running a country. And two, analysis of territory; to know if Gardenstone would be willing to make the alliance with them instead of Maredale. I already see that as impossible, Mother. King Luke hates Ashton.”

And me. But he hated Ashton more.

I could bet that Luke would make that change.

“What do you think of him?”

He wasn’t really bad like everyone said. I found Luke eviler than most people, but Ashton…

“He shows dedication to his people, the simple fact of recognizing the damage his ancestors have done is very… sincere,” I answered, without thinking of his other qualities or the friendship (or something more than that) that was growing between us. “I heard that they began to forgive debts.”

“Lauxwell doesn’t forgive debts, the Irwins don’t forgive debts… they just stop collecting for a while.”

The thought of Ashton collecting the kiss we might have had the other night was fleeting and went away instantly.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“I’m listening.”

As if she knew what I was going to talk about, she put on a voice that had frightened me since I was a little girl: her queen voice.

“I accepted to be an ambassador” Her silence indicated that I could continue: “It is necessary that the people who come from our kingdom know that there is someone advocating for them. Luke - King Luke has approved a petition for the free movement between the two -”

“If this is your way of throwing a tantrum because the alliance didn’t work out, give me five seconds and I’ll talk to the King.”

“It’s not that, not at all, and please don’t do it,“ I asked, my nerves were stable but I couldn’t find the courage anywhere. “I want to make a living here, be useful here.”

She sighed a couple of times before speaking again, that’s what she did when she was arguing with herself.

“I guess if you accepted you know the consequences. My political power can’t get in the way if something doesn’t feel right in your new job…”

Triumphant with the results of this talk, I threw myself at her in a tight hug.

“Good luck, child. You’re going to need it.”

“Thank you” I let out the air I didn’t know I was holding. “Thank you, Mother.”

“Save your thanks for when I get back. I hope to return and see something new in the King, for a change” We both laugh. “Keep an eye on him, so that he doesn’t give me any more trouble with my border. I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I guess it went well,” Ashton leaned against the door frame. “How do you feel, Maredale Ambassador?”

“Pretty… good,“ I smiled.

His body language betrayed him, it seemed he wanted to come into the room and maybe say goodbye to my mother or ask her for some advice, but something was holding him back. He noticed that I noticed.

“Come with me. Luke asked me to introduce you to… a colleague.”

I nodded, interlocked my arm with his in a strangely familiar act and we started walking.

“Will you tell me a little about your "colleague”?”

“First I need the details of the prank you pulled, why did you apologize to Luke?”

“I slapped him last night, he had nothing important to say to me and started talking nonsense.”

Ashton laughed without discretion, his laugh was very nice.

“Typical of him, I’m glad you did,“ he said proudly, leading us to another part of the palace I hadn’t seen before, "not the apologizing part. Don’t do it, he doesn’t deserve it.”

I played with the long sleeve of my jacket, accidentally pulling his. Instead of getting angry, he held my hand.

“His name is Michael. Son of Queen Susan’s sister, Luke’s cousin, Duke of Greenbush, and your boss,” he explained. “There are no ambassadors, you’re the first, so Luke had to create a system…”

“He needs an alibi in case something goes wrong and my mother arrives asking for someone’s head, he made sure it wasn’t his,” I analyzed aloud. “What a… coward.”

It was liberating somehow to use the word with someone who wasn’t me, for once.

“Why do you know him?” I asked as we walked out of some doors.

“Before, many years ago my father used to visit Gardenstone and bring us on his travels. Luke, Calum, and Michael were the only kids I could talk to… and fight with,“ he looked at the horizon, revisiting his memories

We stopped at what looked like a very perched and forgotten greenhouse behind the palace. The vines covered it quite well, from a distance it looked like a giant pot. Who knows how many animals had made their home there.

“Good morning, Princess Amberly… and Ashton.”

A blond hair appeared behind our backs. Michael’s beard made him look a little big but he bet he was the same age as Calum. He looked formal but not at all scary or anything like his cousin.

Ashton gently slid his hand out of mine, taking a step towards him. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”

“And we needed more than a while,” Michael replied rather dryly. “If you’ll excuse us, Amberly and I have work to do.”

Ashton nodded, came over and put a kiss on my cheek, and then left. I was left reliving the softness of his lips.

“Are you guys dating?”

Michael’s voice came back. Boss. Work. Focus.

“Ashton and I? No, not at all.” I said quickly. “So… where’s the workplace?”

In a far-from-elegant gesture, Michael pointed to the greenhouse. He was joking, he had to be…

“Luke didn’t want to spend so much on building an office, so part of the budget will go to remodeling this greenhouse,“ he said disinterestedly. “Sadly you can’t remodel if you have all those plants and soil and… diseases. That’s your first task, see you when you’re done!”

“I can’t do it alone is-”

“-Of course you can, Luke said you could…”

Luke was an asshole.

I had spent my whole afternoon in the greenhouse. I took out plants, pulled out beetles, and even moved a family of birds from there, and yet it seemed like I had only tickled it. My hands were broken, I thought about wearing gloves but it was too late and the guards said Luke had given orders not to give me any tools. Just what I needed.

I shook off my black pants and the browner than white blouse I was wearing once not a ray of sunshine was present in the sky. I headed back to the palace through the kitchen entrance. Some servants greeted me, a friend of Lidia’s offered me an apple that I accepted with enthusiasm and we even talked about the stories of ghosts that haunted the place. Somewhat shaken, I walked through the great hall.

I hadn’t visited the place since the incident, just getting close gave me the creeps. I couldn’t help but remember the faces of the kings and Prince Jake. Sometimes I thought about what I would be doing if such a terrible event had not happened and I found a picture of Gardenstone and Maredale together, Jake and I on the throne and none of the self-centered Luke present; I would have made a deal with Lauxwell just to get him away from me.

A hand touched my shoulder, my reflexes and self-defense classes came out, taking the hand and twisting it on the attacker’s back. The blonde hair scared me for a moment, if it had been Luke I wouldn’t have forgiven myself, but thanks to the Sea it was Michael.

“That’s my hand!” He shouted I let go. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to hurt people?”

“Didn’t they teach you to announce yourself before touching a lady’s shoulder in the dark, Duke?”

He snorted. A few steps were heard in the room, it was enough to look at Michael’s face to know that he had heard them too. Without thinking twice, we hid behind two pillars.

“It’s none of your business, Ashton.”

Luke’s voice echoed. I looked at Michael a few steps away, we both let go of the air.

He pointed to the doors I had entered, no doubt we could get out of the room if we were careful enough with the squeaking door. I shook my head and whispered, "It’s noisy.”

“I still don’t understand the game you’re playing…” Luke’s voice was much closer.

Michael ran a finger down his throat with humor. If we didn’t leave our presence was going to be suspicious and punished.

“I’m not surprised, you were always very slow. But I hope that when you find out, you’ll let me know. If it’s not too late.”

A servant came out of the kitchen leaving the door ajar. Perfect.

“…She has the last word, don’t forget,” I heard Ashton say before leaving.

Michael and I ducked, carefully passing through the door. Just to be safe, we went all the way back to the greenhouse.

“Why did we do that?!” I exclaimed.

“I…“ he hesitated a bit. “The place was scary.”

I nodded, chills ran down my skin again.

“What were you doing there, Duke?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looked at the greenhouse, and answered.

“I wanted to see the salon once more, they will soon start rebuilding it. I spent a lot of time there as a child,” he looked through the greenhouse. “You did a good job for the first day…”

“Thank you, it was difficult without the gloves but-”

“Without the gloves? Did you work without gloves?” he asked, I nodded and showed him my hands. “For the Forest… that was what was missing. I’ll talk to Luke, I don’t think you’re as bad as he says. “

Of course, he had told him I was bad, maybe then he wouldn’t be guilty of treating me badly.

He went over to the greenhouse, looking at the big pots that were blocking the entrance.

“Do you mind if I give you a hand with these?”

“I don’t need your help, Duke.”

He clicked his tongue.

“Call me Michael, no problem. I won’t be here tomorrow, let me help you.”

He seemed genuine, and since he mentioned it he did need help carrying those pots.

I nodded, we both took a big pot from both ends and started lining them up on the side of the greenhouse.

“What did you do to upset him, my cousin?” he spoke after releasing the second pot.

“Today or since he has known me?” We loaded the third one. “I have a couple of ideas but whatever the reason, he earned my displeasure in the same way.”

We let go of the pot, heading for the other one.

“This one is broken,“ he said when we picked it up. “He said you were a… coward,” he panted.

The words came back to me in Luke’s voice, distracting me enough to let go of the grip on my side of the pot. It hit the corner of the greenhouse, and Michael and I squatted to pick up the mess.

“Yes, I heard it,“ I muttered, pulling pieces of the pot off.

“And? Will you prove him wrong?”

I passed Michael’s question unnoticed as my fingernails bumped into something hard in the dirt. I took the material out and shook it aside, a set of three metal keys with unrecognizable details gleaned through the soil

“Keys.” I put them in his hands. “Do you recognize them?”

“No, but I can bet they open a passage,” he admired them for a few seconds and placed them back in my hands. “Finders keepers, I guess.”

I put them in the pocket where my Jhin was to show them to Lidia in the morning.

Michael stopped talking about Luke and we talked about his life at the palace and the visits he made every Christmas. It seemed to be a tradition that Queen Susan invited her family to cook delicious desserts and cut wood while King Robert’s family had been away for a long time.

After a few minutes, the entrance to the greenhouse was free and ready to be fixed but that would wait a few hours.

“I’d better tell His Majesty about my departure tomorrow, so we’ll know what torture awaits you,“ he joked.

...He joked?

We walked up the stairs to Luke’s quarters, a light under his door indicated that he was still awake. There was sobbing coming from below, I didn’t know whether to warn me or run away.

“Is it… him?” I asked, not bothering to hide my surprise.

Michael didn’t either, he was as perplexed as I was at the door.

“I’ll leave you the directions in a note, your maid will give it to you in the morning.”

His indication was enough to start my way to my room. From my shoulder, I could see Michael opening Luke’s door. A girl came out fully dressed and closed the door behind her.

I turned my thoughts off halfway through, I would not analyze the situation thoroughly. Luke wasn’t sobbing, it must have been that girl. Now, he was bringing more brunette girls than blondes, who knows what would have changed.

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years

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tapes

tapes masterlist

tape final 23/23

word count: 1661

TAPE FINAL

This last tape is really loud and really dark, quite uncomfortable to watch, to be honest. If you have motion sickness, it’s highly advised that you just read the transcript. So, it starts in the kitchen. It’s night time, and the light goes out the next second after the recording goes on. There’s silence in the house, but then we can here steps. They’re light, quick, and soon, there’s Malachai. My, my, what a handsome young man he is now. The moonlight is silver on his face as he picks up the camera. His eyes seem completely black in the twilight of the kitchen. There’s pans and platters shining bleakly.

“It’s almost my birthday”, he says quietly, looking in the camera, “and everybody’s asleep. I wanna start celebration early, because it’s very probable that this is the last time I see my precious sissy. My name is Kai Parker, and this is my little home movie”.

Suddenly, you can he wheezing. Can you? Can you hear wheezing? It’s very close.

“Can you hear him? It’s the Gemini coven leader wetting himself on the kitchen floor. Hold it in, dad”, he says and picks the camera up.

He doesn’t hold it to his face, and just waves it in his hand as he walks through the kitchen. We can see the cupboard door. There’s a metal sound, like he’s taking a knife out of the knife box. Well, not ‘like’. He’s taking a knife out.

He’s walking around the house quietly, almost like a ghost. He goes upstairs and not a single step creaks under his feet. He comes in his parents’ bedroom quietly.

He finally puts the camera to her face as she’s sleeping.

“Mum. Ma-ma. Mum”, he whispers. There’s dark silhouette moving on the bed.

“Kai?” he asks, his voice is raspy from sleep.

“Yes. Dad’s not feeling good”.

She sniffs and lifts herself on one elbow.

“What’s happening, Kai?” she’s still calm. You can see the whites of her eyes in the darkness.

“He’s downstairs, in the kitchen”, Malachai whispers.

“Why?”

“He’s not feeling well”.

Mama Parker sits up in bed and looks at her son.

“Not well – how? Does he need help?”

“No. I poisoned him”.

Movement. Slap! Slash! Kai hits his mother with the knife. She grunts shortly and falls back as he stabs her again. Who knew it would be such a blunt sound? Bang, bang, bang. She moans very quietly, as if saying, I’m grateful for you, Malachai.

He leaves the room, closes the door quietly. There’s a knock on the wall.

“Parkers! Wake up!” his voice shatters through the house, but at first, it’s silent.

He snaps another door open, and we can see the moonlight briefly again. Blue on white walls. He walks up to the two beds.

“Malachai”, this strict voice with the hint of annoyance that articulates every single consonant belongs to Samantha. There’s shuffling in the dark, and she yelps in pain. Kai throws the camera on the nightstand and it lays on the side. Kai drags Sam out of her bed, and Tyler springs to help her, but Kai kicks him in the stomach.

“You wait for your turn, four eyed fucker”.

He drags the girl out of the room and throws her on the floor by the sound of it.

“Stop twisting, bitch!”

She whines.

Reappearing in the doorframe, we can see that he’s wearing his favorite blue t-shirt with a rainbow. Immature!

He looks around and his stare falls upon the open wardrobe.

“Mum! Dad!” Tyler screams from his bed. Malachai dismisses him with a wave of his hand and reaches for the skipping rope. There’s fidgeting behind the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Kai, stop, please, what are you doing?”

“Kai, stop, please”, he mocks her.

Sam screams, and they wrestle a little. Then there’s a sound of thump, and everything’s quiet. Tyler jumps from the bed and heads for the door, and Kai reappears again, like a ghost, and catches him.

“Yeah, let’s go”.

“No, please, fesmatus…”

The older knows all their tricks. Kai slaps his hand on Tyler’s face, covering his mouth, and the boy’s body starts shaking as magic flows into Kai’s body. He drags his brother from the room, too.

“Stop fidgeting!” a voice commands from the hall. There’s a scream. Tyler shrieks when he sees something – I wonder what that is?

Another thump. He works so quick, you gotta admire his composure.

He returns for the camera. Taking the knife out of his pants, he weighs it against the camera’s eye, and even in the pale moonlight, it’s obvious the sticky black on the blade is blood.

“Kids! Wakey-wakey time!” he yells again and his ever-seeing friend travels smoothly in his hand. You can see the dark hall walls, and finally, Josette’s voice goes,

“It’s the middle of the night! Fucking go to bed!”

Kai laughs quietly. He knocks on the walls again, counts: one, two, three, four, five. Five steps until the next room. There’s someone walking up to him.

“Kai”, a voice in the end of the corridor, “what are you doing?”

“Go down the stairs and look”, he suggests. The camera shuffles against his leg and it’s dark again. A door opens.

Kai whistles.

“Ashley, baby, are you up?”

“Kai?”

It’s Joey speaking.

“Yeah, buddy. Hello. Sit tight, alright? Or run, I don’t care”.

He puts the camera in the bottom of the bed so that you can see it when he lifts his arm and dives the kitchen knife into the little girl’s stomach. Ashley doesn’t even scream. But Josette does – she screams from downstairs and runs back, her footsteps loud, deep and harsh. She’s still yelling, not really saying anything, when she slams the door open and she, just as we do, sees Kai carving something with the knife on the body of his sister.

“Oh my god! Joey, run!”

“Modus”, Kai waves one hand and there’s a sound like a body is falling, and Josette is silent. Joey’s footsteps are like a puppy’s: he runs fast, finely, but his legs are short. Kai’s still bent over his little sister’s body, working with the knife. Blood splatters up onto his shirt, but he doesn’t even blink. In such darkness we can only tell the outlines of his face. There’s loud banging from the downstairs – Joey ties to get out of the house – but Malachai had secures all the doors beforehand. He’s not going to run around the yard like a fucking idiot chasing his siblings.

“There it is! Finally”, he exhales as he takes out an organ from Ashley’s belly. It’s big and black and doesn’t really look like anything, but it’s soaking in blood. Kai turns to the window to see better and studies it, frowning, twisting it in his hand. A second – and he loses interest. The organ goes on the floor with a quiet splash. He walks to the camera and picks it up again.

“We’re playing operation with Joey all the time”, he says calmly as he walks out of the room. The camera records the floor and Josette’s unconscious body that’s laying in the hall.

“And I always have trouble finding liver. I mean, it’s so big, and it doesn’t move around, right? But now I finally found it, so Joey can suck it. Liv, Luke! Are you up?”

The house is quiet for now, but there’s footsteps on the first floor. Kai descends the stairs and lifts the camera to film the banisters.

“Damn it, the two nerds”, he says with a lot of passion, looking at Sam and Tyler’s bodies hanging down. In their pajamas, they look like dolls, pale in the blank light of the moon.

“Joey!”

“Yes?” a voice comes from the living room. Kai laughs out.

“Wow! You’re an idiot. Come here, buddy”.

“Are you going to hurt me? Please, don’t”.

He films the boy, crawling out of the darkness of the room. Big couch and the armchairs stand still like monoliths.

“Of course, not”, his voice is full of mockery, but Joey steps out in the light line. His little face is wary, his eyes are big like cherries. He’s a pretty boy, one like Kai used to be when he was his age. Only, his face was bruised, and Joey’s isn’t. and Joey doesn’t have a flight-or-flight instinct. He has something Malachai never learned: feeling of trust. Kai tells him to step to him, and he does, like a kid is supposed to.

“I wanna show you something cool on the camera, come here”.

Joey approaches him, and the whole picture flies away. Bang! Joey yelps like a kitten, once. Thump! Thump! Thump! There’s a loud crack. The living room hops up and down as Kai beats the camera into his brother’s skull. Are you nauseous yet? I mean, that’s a bit excessive, how many times do you really have to hit a seven year old kid?

He’s breathing. But there’s no rest for the wicked: Jo’s up. She runs to the master bedroom by the likes of it: there should be a scream.

“Oh my god! Mum!”

She discovered Martha.

He gets up and the camera flies. Kai twists his arm and we can see him again. There are drops of blood on his forehead, but the camera’s lens is all covered in dark liquid. He frowns and rubs it with his finger.

“Just want to let you know”, he says, heading for the stairs, “I’ve never heard so many ‘pleases’ in my life before. It’s a Christmas miracle. I mean, merge miracle. Jo!” he yells, “where are the twins? Are they in beds?”

He looks in the camera again, but at that very moment he jumps into the spot of darkness. We can only hear his breathing now.

“Well, I gotta go. Gonna montage the shit out of it later”.

There’s a click, and the tape is over.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #gemini coven #tvd imagine #legacies #vampire daries

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missameliep · 4 years

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WIP Wednesday - 08/26/2020

Hi, everyone! 😊

I haven’t got much time to write lately, the inspiration was lacking and I put the series Second Chances and the oneshots for that AU on hold for now.

But these last days I’ve been following my muse wherever she likes, drafting a few ideas and I’ve started something new and got almost the entire story outlined in a few hours work (which is absolutely extraodinary for me). It’s another Desire and Decorum modern AU, and it describes how Elizabeth Foredale (MC) is dealing with the upcoming marriage of her ex-boyfriend Ernest Sinclaire, and follows the events taking place two weeks prior to the wedding day and the plans Briar Daly has in store to help out her friend in having the best time at the reception.

...Or perhaps Elizabeth will follow her own plans and find everything she needs in the providential company of a charming barista. Who knows?

The story has some of my favorite tropes: fake dating, coffee shop, college, etc; it’s most likely to be a minisseries, and I’ll probably start posting when I’ve got most of the chapters done, as I did with the series Is this love?

Since I’m really excited with the scenes I wrote so far, I’m sharing a sneak peek bellow the cut.

If you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know.

Untitled minisseries - Book: Desire and Decorum - Pairings: Elizabeth Foredale x Ernest Sinclaire (past relationship / implied); Elizabeth Foredale x Prince Hamid.

“That cute new barista is here today,” Briar nudged Elizabeth’s side, who discreetly peeked at the tall man in his green and white uniform.

The whiteness of the teeth he bares with each cheek dimpling smile almost matches the colour of his shirt, and contrasts with the warm bronze of his skin. His presence behind the counter was certainly the reason the queue was unusually long again, like it has been since he started taking shifts about two weeks ago.

Briar leaned and asked with a sly grin, “How will he screw up your name today, Lizzy? Or should I call you Luz too?”

“I’m not in the mood for your mockery…”

The man was always extremely polite and knew Elizabeth’s order by heart. Nevertheless, as if there was some insurmountable language barrier between them, not once he got her name right; no matter how much she has corrected him, he would smile and then misspell it and pronounce it entirely different every single time. Two days ago, she asked him to call her Liz, and the best she got was Luz.

Biting her bottom lip, Briar took another lingering glance at the man and lowered her voice so only Elizabeth could hear, “Look at those arms! I would let him call me whatever he wanted…”

Elizabeth whispered, “Aren’t you seeing Arthur?”

“I haven’t gone blind.” Briar replied and they both giggled.

“What happened to that fit Vet student? The one who plays polo?”

“Luke?”

“Yes, Luke! He should be your plus one! He looked so regal ridding that horse!” Briar mused. “It’d make quite an impression to arrive with such a charming man at the reception. No one would pity you. Especially if you were caught making out at the cloak room.”

“First, I’d never get caught doing that at a party...”

“Please, save that lie for someone who doesn’t know you!”

“I don’t deny making out at many of those boring functions... What never happened to me was getting caught,” Elizabeth paused and threw a knowing smirk at her friend, “unlike some people I know.”

“Once!" Briar hissed, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “And why the bloody hell would your step-mother walk into the pantry during a dinner party?”

#WIP Wednesday #choices fic writers creations #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #desire and decorum modern au #ernest sinclaire #prince hamid #briar daly #desire and decorum mc #elizabeth foredale

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catvampire · 4 years

Text

All on The Prince’s Seal / Ch. IX

[ Masterlist ]

“I’d like to keep this chat on the shorter side, so pardon me if I get straight to the point, sir.”

With a single sentence, Atwood confirmed most of the general impression Luke had gotten of the man from meetings and what his father and sister had said about the long-serving head of national security when they had been alive. The neat, orderly fashion Atwood’s office was decorate—no personal items on the desk, and only framed pictures of him with other high-ranking officials on the wall for colour—told the rest. Formal introductions and meetings aside, Luke had never had a chance to talk to Atwood; this wasn’t an ideal circumstance for their first talk one-on-one (well, one-on-one save for Mr Rossi for security), but it was the inevitable one.

Luke gestured the man to continue.

Atwood gave something between a nod and a bow before looking at his hands and speaking again. “You’ve seen the news. There’s an… unrest with the people towards the crown. Most people aren’t aware of what exactly would happen if the royal family simply ceased to exist, I think I would have to check my books as well on that. I don’t think Valosian laws were written thinking there would never come a situation where the entire family would die all at once outside of the realm of an all-out war.”

The way Luke’s family’s death was passed over in the sentence happened quickly, emotionlessly, in a way Luke could almost presume Atwood had practised. Luke couldn’t help a small intake of breath at the coldness of it—Atwood’s face reacted with compassion as soon as he noticed—but had to be appreciative of. There was a reason he’d been asked here, with Rossi instead of Matt, and Luke wanted to get to it. There’d be time for sentimentality later.

Over the passing month, it’d become easier and easier to slip into a public persona even outside of the view of the press and the public—it was quick, cheap, and no doubt transparent to someone who had seen as much politics as Walter Atwood, but it worked enough to conceal emotional unrest in the face of something he needed to do—or at the very least gave the message that that was the goal. “It’d automatically put the nation in the state of national emergency.” I’m okay. Let’s proceed.

There was a flicker of uncertainty before Atwood continued again. “Yes, I mentioned that in the conference—when was it, week, two ago?” A small pause, despite the rhetorical nature of the question. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is, yes, you’re correct, it would start a state of national emergency. Back in the day, our founders and friends just presumed you would die in an assassination or another violent act, and that would start a war, so the power should move to the defence department to decide how to act. The point is, nobody knows what would happen then with the bloodline..” Atwood picked up his pen, opening his palms, never gesturing more than wrist-up as he spoke. “And Valosia has been pretty damn lax about what makes royal blood royal—what with your grandfather being adopted and all these other workarounds—to specifically avoid this problem. And we found ourselves it being one goddamn cartoon banana peel away from that being reality now.”

The laugh Luke let out wasn’t a cheerful one. Atwood was being honest—brutally so, yes, but people had been dancing around the topic so gingerly Luke almost appreciated someone laying out the situation bare like this, even if it brought no comfort. And yet, at the same time as the facts settled and took root in his mind, it became harder to not feel the temptation to distance himself from the situation as to not feel the dread towards the consequences Atwood was detailing for him.

It wasn’t the first time the topic had crossed his mind, but it was the first time it stood so clearly before him: the day Teresa had died, it had become Luke’s first and foremost duty to his country to not die for as long as he was alone.

“Your health is the only thing keeping Valosia from the edge of a constitutional crisis.”

“...Yes.” Atwood had made his point.

“Now, I don’t suppose you’ve had much time to think about marriage and kids in the middle of all this, your Majesty.” It was more a statement of the obvious fact than it was a question—Luke gave a sharp shake of his head. “Yeah, I thought so. And no one expects you to—no one sensible, anyway, tabloids be damned—but until you do, until there’s a next something who could replace you if something happened to you, and I assure you I am strictly speaking as a cog in the government machine here, I am going to have to ask you to increase security, starting with forming a new Kingsguard.”

It was now clearer why Atwood had insisted Rossi to join him and Matt be given the day off. From their last conversation, Luke had gotten the impression the man wanted to talk to them both; Matt would, it seemed, have his chat separately. Rossi, on the other hand, had been the head of the Kingsguard—title preserved from older generations that currently served as the name of the bodyguards surrounding the King—when Luke’s father had been King, and a coordinator for forming the same for Teresa.

Mr Rossi had not said a word, but Luke could tell he’d started to pay attention to the matter more visibly as opposed to pretending he wasn’t hearing it.

“You don’t think I should wait until closer to my coronation?”

“Absolutely not,” Atwood responded with a sharpness Luke hadn’t heard from the man before, “there’s enough unrest as it is. We’ll officiate the new Kingsguard in a week, max two. Until then, one man with you, constantly—when you’re outside, at least one man on your person and another one in civilian clothing surveying the situation, and that’s on top of your current arrangements.”

Luke could see where Atwood was coming from: from a strictly defensive standpoint, what the man was saying made sense. It just wasn’t the only angle he needed to consider. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said it—there’s too much unrest. If a reason for that, even partially, is that people are afraid I might die at any given moment, visibly adding security is going to show that there’s reason to be scared.”

“Is there not, in your opinion?”

Luke ignored the thinly veiled mockery. “My sister died because of a protest gone wrong. It would have not been prevented with more guards—all it would have done is added more people to the body count. There’s time for that later when people have grown used to my presence.”

Atwood considered it for a moment. “I see.” A pause as he studied Luke’s expression. “I do have to insist on the extra security until we have an idea of what we want the Kingsguard to be, and then we’ll discuss on the timing.”

Luke nodded in response.

“You clearly have a preference for Simmons to fulfil some of those tasks—if he is willing to accept these new conditions, I have no problem with that. I’ll talk with him later when it is more timely—until then, I’d wish you’d coordinate with Mr Rossi on the specifics of how your undercover bodyguard will be arranged and who it will be; I’m sure you agree Simmons is too public of a figure to pull that off convincingly by now. Now, I understand you have the engagement party to attend...”

“I do—and thank you, I will.” There was an air of the conversation coming to an end, and Luke stood up, rebuttoning his suit jacket, and taking a step away from the chair.

In a series of small, polite nods and vague goodbyes, Luke made his way to the door, only stopping when Atwood’s voice spoke again from behind him.

“Your Majesty. One more suggestion, if I may...” Luke turned his head to face him. “You know, those dating apps are hugely popular now—...”

#matt simmons #luke alvez #simmvez #criminal minds #cm fic #mine: writing #fic: all on the prince's seal #nobody look at me

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datboyyeet · 4 years

Text

The revenge of a human

MURDER HARASSMENT MUTILATION TORTURE SPOILER; maybe things could have been so different but it was surely a stroke of fate, such a cruel fate. Ever since Mc arrived at the Devildom he had been living through hell, sorry for the bad puns. Diavolo had assured him that nothing would happen to him, what a sweet irony. First, he was assigned a greedy demon who spent his time reminding him that he was just a futile human, then he nearly got himself killed by Levi, all for a silly contest. Mc had not slept that evening, a fear in his stomach. When he was at RAD he felt as brave as a rat, even a rat was more valuable than him. Mc, unlike Solomon, had no power and was human, no defense. He was laughed at, they insulted him, jostled him, certain demons scattered their things. Mc had tried to talk to Lucifer about it but Lucifer told him not to pay attention to such minor details. Hell, even Simeon and Luke weren't so bothered, they had powers as angels but MC? With no power? Nah, no peace. At first MC could support him, it wasn't enough to make him mentally crack. RAD's homework was more complicated than MC thought, and no matter how much Satan spent hours helping him study, MC's grades were really ... low. Diavolo even tried to help but nothing helped. Lucifer was giving lectures saying that he was wasting everyone's time, that Diavolo tried to lower the academic difficulty for a miserable human. That evening, MC spent the night revising, the pages spotted with tears, it was the same for the nights to come. He would stop sleeping, hoping to improve his mediocrity. To succeed, he panted with each drowsiness a cutter on his bare thigh, keeping him awake. When this system was no longer working, he stole a book from Solomon, then using a potion that replaced sleep and those just delusional. He felt like he had slept, but he didn't. No one noticed his fatigue, when Satan noticed it, Mc got away by saying that he had simply played on his DDD too late, then being argued by Lucifer. When Lucifer attempted to kill Luke, which MC stepped in, determined to save Luke and Beel and Lucifer took on MC, it was the first tear. He had woken up from his confrontation in complete panic, still feeling Lucifer's blow in his ribs. Sweatily, he made a decision by making the pact with Beel; he was going to earn Lucifer's respect ... For that, he was going to help Belphegor. If only it could have been that easy. The following days, the following weeks, were alike. RAD demons seemed to increase their mockery, MC got words telling him to hang himself, demons were hitting them in the ribs. Simeon had suspected that something was wrong, he tried to talk about it with MC but the human being was good at lying, keeping their harassment to themselves. MC tried not to think about it, which worked fine, his grades were going up, there was hope. This hope was shattered .... When Belphegor grabbed his throat, MC was terrified. He realized his human naivety, his weakness. The pain was so great, her cry was lost in the air as her head rolled down the stairs, now detached from her body. To be honest, he would have preferred to rest there in the light, he felt good but Lillith didn't hear him that way, did he? He was torn from paradise to return to Hell. Except this time he didn't think he was going to be able to overcome it. When he woke up, he was sprawled on the stairs, suffocating, swimming in his own blood. This sight never left his mind. Raising his hand to his blow, he still felt the pain, the death, his death. Glancing at the brothers, he told himself he had to be strong. Second tear. When everything was explained, Belphegor had been calmer, the brothers less demanding because MC was the descendant of Lillith, or had they on the contrary become more demanding? Whatever MC did, nothing was perfect, he was Lillith's descendant, HE HAD TO BE PERFECT. These thoughts were muddled and yet MC didn't want to believe it, the brothers loved him because he was him ... right? After his murder, when MC could sleep again, he was unable to. He would wake up screaming, seeing his murder on repeat. The demon brothers were laughing at him, Belphegor stood still, MC couldn't just forgive him? MC was doing too much. MC was a crybaby. MC was looking for attention. Lillith would have been indulgent. That everyone made mistakes and that they had to be forgiven. Third tear.It was the descent into hell for MC, or else this descent had already started since their arrival. He was no longer sleeping, starting his potions again, his notes were relapsing, Lucifer assailed him about it, he only ate to vomit behind. When he went to RAD, he got hit, the harassment skyrocketed, he came back with a broken arm. He was trying to hide all of them, to be strong and even with the seven strongest demons by his side, he didn't feel safe, he never was. IT WAS NOTHING. A HUMAN VULGAR UNABLE TO DEFRENDER. He was nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing. The silver blade of the knife drew red lines all over his body and even increasing the depth, increasing his features, MC still felt hurt in the heart ... Everyone around him was drowning him, MC was dying slowly. He wore a smiling mask all the time, during Lucifer's arguments, the brothers' general criticisms, his comparison to Lillith, to her stalkers ... to his tormentors .... And in the evening, he would start his blood dance all over again. . When that wasn't enough, he started to swallow ink, vomit the ink and he started to laugh, he was so pathetic. One night it broke down. It was the day too long, he was now empty of all emotions. After a day in hell, he rather got up from the meal, saying he was no longer hungry and went to sleep, sleeping only 3 hours but it was the most restful 3 hours of his life. He woke up, smiling broadly. In the greatest discretion, he took a bag, which he put on his chair, he took snacks that he had stolen the day before, he took ink, a work of Satan, another of Solomon, then taking his knife and jewelry from Mammon and Asmo, which he had also stolen. He put it all in the bag, not bothering to take off his shoes. It was in the deepest of calm that MC left the mansion. Once outside he began to run as fast as he could, once far enough he put a hand to his pact marks and ordered "DON'T FOLLOW ME! BE UNABLE TO FIND ME". The marks shone and in that moment the brothers all felt their marks beating like a heart. They tried to find MC but they were unable to, the pact prevented them from being able to find and follow her. Alert, Lucifer called Diavolo.MC was looking for a witch. He had learned that a witch could grant any wish, as long as it could be paid and very often, these wishes were black with vengeance, to the point that Diavolo had to considerably limit these practices, to see them brought to justice. This witch would help MC become what everyone wanted, MC would finally become perfect. The road was long, he took 3 days to get there, eating only ink. During this time, Diavolo tried the impossible to find him but MC was far enough and besides, he had arrived in front of the house of the witch. He was knocking, almost laughing. The witch was staring at the weak human in front of her but this human was strange, he was pale, his mouth black ink, smiling almost inhuman:"Make me perfect," he said.- Lose your humanity, she replied.He accepted. He gave her all his possessions, to pay the witch decently. The latter then took him to his cellar, undressing him, placing him in the center of a pentagram, handcuffing him, on his knees, to the five ends of the pentagram. She lit five candles one by one, picking up an old dusty grimoire. A strange dragon-headed knife was in his hands. She began to whisper recitals, the air would change, which did not seem to bother her. Walking slowly around MC, she continued to recite, only to plunge her blade into MC's back. The latter bit his lip. The witch lowered her blade and slashed a second slash, as if an angel's wings had been ripped off. With her blade, she made several cuts on MC's body, including several symbols. She continued her recitals. She took a bowl of ink, which she spilled on Mc, the ink seeped into the wounds, making him cringe. The witch began to scream her recitals. The pentagram lit up, black flames burst out, to devour MC's body. The latter was in pain, he felt something change in him, something was pushing from his back. He let out a howl of pain, so intense that even the brothers felt it. Each of their sides, as they tried to find MC, they felt their torn apart. Their hearts were pounding, the place where their wings made them suffer excruciatingly.A few days later, when they were at a standstill, Diavolo invited them to the castle, saying that MC was coming, that demons knew why MC had disappeared. The brothers were tired when they arrived at the castle. Mammon felt the worst. The meeting point was the ballroom, with its stage, its piano. There were a lot of people, Lucifer then asked Diavolo for explanations, why RAD students were here? Diavolo shrugged, saying that MC had said do this for everyone to know about his disappearance and to invite those specific demons. Then the lights went out one by one. The stage curtains were closed and the sound of a piano was heard, someone was playing. A voice arose, Mc. At that precise moment, the curtains opened to reveal a transforming MC. MC had medium black hair, black eyes, a classy black suit, a white shirt with a small black sleeveless jacket and black pants ..... and horns with angel wings ?! looked weird but his skin was as white as snow, he was literally black and white: - Strong, strong, long ago, a young human was so pure, He was so pure, a lovely Angel. But then we took him to hell! And he was broken ... But now honey, I'm in the spotlight. Jazz music was heard. The curtain closed on MC. Music flooded the hall. No one understood what was going on, everyone was shocked to see MC like that .... had he become a demon? The curtain reopened on MC dancing, the music continued, a microphone in front of him: - One two Three I'm a demon from heaven Oh look, looks like Henry is on a date, MC sang, stroking Levi's hair. He had magically appeared next to him, making him jump, then MC had magically found the scene. Oh let's have a little fun! The smile that Mc displayed was confident, with a sadistic confidence, the Brothers could not move, stunned. MC was a demon. As MC sang, outside, backstage, something was going on that even Barbatos couldn't predict: - We have dirty little bitches in heat, Come with me on this cozy cloud, MC was pointing Asmo this time. To be a perfect angel, you sometimes have to make small sins, MC sang in Simeon's ear. The angel was trying to catch MC but MC was already on stage again.Lucifer not wanting this masquerade anymore, tried to catch it but MC appeared on a divant, in a dramatic pose, still smiling, completely proud of his show: - You always tell me what to do and what not to do, I couldn't escape this hell, Unable to stand in front of you, This time Mc found himself next to Lucifer before returning to a second divant. You called me weak, human, As it hurt me, MC then pointed to Mammon completely satisfied with the lost gaze of the avatar of greed. Demon women, in the same guise as MC appeared on stage, singing "Palalpala Pala pala pulila papa". MC appeared on stage again walking, twirling a cane: - But it's all over, I will show you, Open your eyes, Because now I take control! I'm on stage You can't cage me anymore You no longer control anything! Focus on me! All eyes are on me!Dancing, the curtain closed again, the women appeared on the couches, continuing to sing. The music was in full swing. Everyone understood their reason here, no matter how MC got in or changed, MC wasn't there just to sing along. Out of sight, something flowed in the shadows, surrounding the castle. MC appeared on stage, this time ink was flowing from his eyes but he continued to smile and disappeared again. Ink was dripping from the ceiling forming a puddle: - So many tries, So many mistakes For your satisfaction, I spent many sleepless nights In the hope of satisfying you, To him looked like, be perfect! MC emerged from the ink, the face ... ink was streaming from his eyes, still dancing, smiling: - But I finally found the way To be perfect !!!It was awful to see, ink was dripping from his white body. Luke was pulling back, scare, how is that possible ???? - I swallowed so much ink, I devoured so many books, A witch helped me achieve the perfect shape! I am close to perfection! I'm like you now An unfeeling and perfect heartless demon, A being made of ink He appeared in random places, ink streaming from him, his face. When he appeared next to someone, it screamed, we tried to catch him but only ink was what they could catch. MC appeared on the table, a glass of ink in his hand: - You told me to forget my own murder, You said to forgive, You selfishly wanted your sister! You ordered me what to do, Even though I was traumatized! , MC threw the contents of his glass at Beel, disappearing onto a couch. You told me that I was not good enough That I only wanted attention while I was in tears !, MC Pointed at Satan and ink flowed over him, the latter tried to catch MC but the demon made of ink appeared on the chandelier. - MCCCCCC !!!!!! Screamed the seven brothers and Diavolo - You, You took my future without hesitation! All this for a vulgar story of revenge! But all that will change Dirty murderer, MC looked at Belphegor with a big smile. Focus on me! As Mc's face returned to normal, ink was flowing again. Everyone tried to run away, out, standing on his stage, MC snapped his fingers and the doors closed. Ink blocked all the entrances, impossible to exit, no escape. Luke was crying, supported by Simeon. Solomon tried all the spells they knew with Satan, but that was a new power. The other brothers tried with Diavolo and Barbatos to attack MC but their attacks did not hit him, he disappeared even before the attack was launched. MC's face was normal again: - Oh no no! Don't run away! There is no escape! I would be all they wanted! Now look at me all! All eyes are on me. MC was dancing, as ink slowly dripped from the ceiling and quickly everyone was up to their ankles. Outside, eruptions of ink were erupting. MC wanted to make them suffer, to drown them as he drowned. Then all of them turned black. The music had stopped. On the stage, a light illuminated Belphegor, attached to a chain by anti demon chains. He was struggling but the chains hurt him. A black shape appeared behind him. Ink flowed from MC, not a single piece of skin was spared. The ancient human put his hands on Belphie's shoulders, using his ink to immobilize him and slowly he put his hands up to the neck of the demon: - I suffered so much through your fault, You were the last straw Are you destroying me and asking me to stop being afraid? To be traumatized? WHEN I woke up every night to the feeling of your hands squeezing my neck? I will show you, I will make you suffer! MC squeezed his hands, choking Belphie. It was with such force that Belphie believed his head was going to come off his body if MC hadn't shoved his chair, hiding him on the ground. Beel tried to save his brother, all the brothers in the form of demons, unfortunately the ink covered every part of their body, leaving them only the head. The other demons were drowned in ink, dying in turn. Solomon also saw himself attached to Simeon. MC had gone mad. He put his hands around Belphie's neck again:- The memories you left me made me ... You are driving me so crazy! I will destroy them all!And Belphegor's head came off his body, accompanied by the cries of demons.

#obey me #headcanon obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lord diavolo #shall we date diavolo #fic obey me #lucifer obey me #simeon obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me mammon

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vmheadquarters · 4 years

Text

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-Seven of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @nevertothethird. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.28 from @his-beautiful-girl - tag, you’re it!

_____________________________________________________________

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN by @nevertothethird

“So, what’s our first move?” Logan asked.

Such a simple question, Veronica mused, and one she couldn’t immediately answer. If she took the book to the Sheriff’s station, she’d be bringing along with her a hunch they would likely ignore. There was also a chance, even if someone in the department believed her, that Ruby’s manuscript would go missing. While Neptune’s sheriff’s department wasn’t explicitly mentioned throughout the book, there were ample alluded-to miscarriages of justice that could be traced back to them.

And, on a purely selfish level, Veronica didn’t exactly relish the idea of sitting across from Sheriff Dan Lamb in order to explain her theory. She’d risk having his mockery directed at her in relation to the number of times her sexual assault was mentioned throughout Ruby’s book. Been there, done that with the other Lamb brother. No thank you.

She needed to regroup. “I think we head home, and –”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to veto that one.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I was leading the witness.”

Veronica frowned. “Why can’t we go home?”

“Because about a year ago, you and I were photographed with Ruby. Together. At the 09er.”

She exhaled a heavy sigh. “Shit.”

“And if I know Neptune –” Logan continued.

“Then all of Neptune is currently waiting for us at our apartment.”

“Well,” Logan said, his face scrunched in concentration, “maybe half of Neptune.” He gestured to the front door of Mars Investigations. “The other half is outside.”

“You’re not being serious?”

He shook his head. “Been a while since I’ve been able to use my ‘no comment’ face walking through a crowd. I did not miss it.”

Veronica pitched forward, and Logan wrapped his arms back around her waist. “Why do we live here?”

“Pony likes the beach.”

God. Ruby. Maybe book-Dick Casablancas had a point. Maybe getting close to her was dangerous. “Someone killed Ruby. Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing the small of her back in comfort.

“Suggestions on places we could go to get some work done?”

“Dick is surfing Trestles this week.”

She nodded. “You drive. I’ll call my dad on the way.”

***

Safely ensconced at Dick’s beach house, Veronica and Logan had lined the perimeter of the living room with sticky flip chart pages. Written at the top of each page was the name of a “character” from Ruby’s book, and under the name they’d listed every fact mentioned in the book about that character. From the most well-known details (Veronica transferred to Stanford for sophomore year) to the couldn’t possibly be true (Ruby’s family owning a murder-mystery house on an island somewhere between Montana and southern California).

At the bottom of Duncan’s page, she scrawled ‘believed he killed Lilly’ and put the cap on her marker. They were only halfway through Ruby’s book, and the ever increasing amount of information was overwhelming. Everything could be a clue, or nothing could be a clue. “This is insane.”

Logan took a bite of panang curry, shaking his head. “This version of Duncan is really not my biggest fan.”

She placed the page back on the stack. “If it’s any comfort, he doesn’t really seem to be a fan of mine, either.” Veronica grabbed a red marker. “Okay, so let’s start making some connections. Starting with you.”

“Must we?”

She ignored him and looked at the list of facts related to book-Logan’s history, focusing on those that couldn’t be gleaned from casual conversation.

● San José State University

● Dylan Goran

● Hidden cameras in the Echolls pool house

● Madison

● “Recent sibling struggles with Trina”

“Dylan Goran is the one that confuses me,” Logan said. “The guy and Trina dated for a second. How could Ruby know about that?”

“When did you apply to San José State?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“And sophomore year of college? Did you and Trina have ‘sibling struggles’?”

“Nothing more than usual.”

“So how is it that Ruby could get stuff like this –” she circled Madison’s name, and then on her page circled that she’d cheated on Leo with Logan, “so right, but other stuff –” She underlined the name “Sue,” the name of book-Veronica’s therapist, “so wrong?”

“Maybe your first instinct was right: Ruby had a collaborator.”

“Yeah, but how is it so scattershot?” Veronica asked. “I mean, I didn’t even know where Duncan went to when he fled.” She pointed to the page with Duncan’s name on it. “Is it really possible he went to Australia? Is he still there?”

Logan shrugged. “No idea. But the idea that Kane money made immigration problems go away seems plausible.”

“Well, I hope that Kane money fixed the extradition problem, too.” Veronica dropped the marker on the coffee table and flopped on the couch. “I don’t think Ruby had any idea what she was doing here. She was playing with powerful people’s secrets.”

“You know what they say about truth and fiction,” Logan said.

“Yeah. It can get you fucking killed.”

She leaned forward for a coconut prawn. Something wasn’t clicking. Some of Ruby’s information was so specific, so protected, even Veronica would have had a hard time accessing it.

Say the source was in law enforcement: that would make sense of how they had access to a case file, or personnel file, mentioning an ATF agent’s connection to Norris Clayton. But what would a cop or FBI agent care about the more salacious parts of Ruby’s book? Why would they care about Carrie’s first performance on SNL? Why would a cop make up a story about Piz getting hit by a bus? Or dedicate thousands of words to a person named Jen who, as far as she and Mac knew, didn’t exist.

“Well,” she said, standing back up, this time with a green marker in hand. “We can at least eliminate some of the suspects.” On the character pages for Gia, Susan, Ruby, and Carrie, she placed a green x at the top of each page.

“Cole, too,” Logan said. “Died in a drunk driving accident a couple years after high school.”

“Anyone else?”

“No. Thank God.”

She was back to fixating on the list of facts about Logan. The juxtaposition between the true fact that Logan had shitty, drunk sex with Madison, something so hyper-specific and personal, and the blatant falsehood about which college he attended was confounding.

“You know what this all reminds me of?” Logan asked.

She kept her eyes on the flip chart pages. “What?”

“TMZ. And other bullshit websites like that.”

Now he had her attention. “How so?”

“Well, obviously, they completely whiff on stories. Like that thing with Li’l Wayne a few years ago. But every now and again, they get it right. And no one understands how.”

“A gossip reporter wouldn’t care so much about the emotional stuff, though.” She gestured to the pages. “There are full chapters in there where you and I talk through every problem in our relationship. But then tucked in, out of nowhere, are these little asides. It’s almost like –” she trailed off.

She felt that pull in her gut – the one that told her she was close to something. There was something about the way Ruby’s story was framed, the layers of mundanity alternated with seedy gossip and fabrications.

On Logan’s page, she underlined Dylan Goran’s name. “Who knew about him?”

“Trina. Me. You. Aaron.” He paused. “Dylan, obviously.”

She nodded. “He could have told someone.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if it was mentioned somewhere in one of Aaron’s unauthorized biographies.”

“Same thing with Madison,” she said, pointing to the name. “Madison could have talked. Or, maybe a front desk clerk in Aspen. Or one of the other 09ers who was there.”

“Casey was there. Luke, too.”

“Do me a favor?” she asked. “Google your name and San José State. I want to see what comes up.”

Logan saluted her and reached for his phone.

A source. Ruby had a source, but not one in law enforcement. A source. A source with the kind of access a gossip columnist might have. But a source who wanted more than that: they wanted the story behind the story. Someone like –

“Shit,” Logan said.

She turned around; the pull in her gut grew stronger. “What?”

“I can’t remember why, but back in college Dick and I fucked off to San José for a few days. He met a girl at a party, and we dropped her off at work the next day.” Logan handed her his phone.

The headline from some creepy celebrity stalking site he’d pulled up read: Logan Echolls, future Spartan? The accompanying photo was of him and Dick walking out of the admissions office of San José State.

“We’re not dealing with a gossip columnist, Logan.”

If everything Ruby subtly referenced got out – the degree to which the Kanes manipulated systems for Duncan, corruption within all levels of the local government, connections to the Russian Mob – it would take down most of Neptune.

“I think someone is writing a Neptune tell-all.”

“And the author is Ruby’s source.”

“Or Ruby found some other way to access the author’s manuscript.”

“Which would make whoever the author is a suspect,” Logan said.

“Either way, we know who the publisher is.”

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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norcumii · 5 years

Text

Yet more meta from the prior tumblr, originally posted on 12/11/2017.

Mmkay. There’s this post floating around about Obi-Wan’s characterization (link coming up in a minute). I want it on the record that I am all for people characterizing fictional characters however they want, on whatever criteria they have including “because I was in the mood for it,” ‘cause going ‘there’s only one true interpretation’ is totally a dick move.

Nonetheless this post has been slowly driving me bonkers so I’m trying to do the polite thing and make my own post deconstructing it rather than adding to theirs.

Hell, it starts off with “Please can someone explain to me why there’s this fandom thing where Obi Wan is nothing but angst and sads for 20 straight years on Tatooine?”

You betcha.

First off, OP is basing character assessment on the Myers–Briggs Type Indicator. Look. I enjoy personality tests as much as the next person, but that thing is just as useful to behavior prediction as a Facebook quiz about which Disney Princess you are. Here’s a nice convenient article about why which a minimum of digging on Google netted me. MBTI presents archtypes that are sometimes useful for casual commentary, but that is not a diagnostic tool.

So let’s take a look at Obi-Wan, as we see in the movies (and Clone Wars), just after Revenge of the Sith. We have a man who is anywhere from 33 to 38 years old (depending on your version of canon), who has spent the last three years overworking himself at the heart of a hideous civil war that he was essentially drafted for, and oh yes, his side lost. Not only did his side lose, but it got massacred. Yoda was able to feel the death of the Jedi Order as it was happening, do not tell me that Obi-Wan had no idea what was going on too. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was also dealing with the betrayal of his closest friend (his brother), who tries to kill him. Meanwhile, said brother does kill his wife (pregnant wife) who is a close friend of Obi-Wan’s, right there in front of him. All this leads to Obi-Wan doing the unthinkable: mutilating and then killing his brother – or worse, not being able to kill Anakin, leaving him in torment for another two decades.

There is so much PTSD fodder here, and that doesn’t even touch the betrayals from the clones, nor the question of ‘did he feel the psychic backlash from the chips kicking in and twisting the clones’ minds?’, nor the mental trauma from The Phantom Menace wherein he was replaced, failed his teacher who died in his arms but only after saying ‘that kid what replaced you, you need to train him now,’ and then 10 years of raising a kid when he was literally just sorta-kinda-not-exactly declared an adult himself. He was not prepared for that.

So once Obi-Wan’s handed over Luke (the last remaining link to his brother, who he is now not allowed any contact with since Luke expresses he’s never really met Old Ben) – that’s the first time he’s had to really stop and breathe in over 13 years. Ten years to raise a responsibility he never asked for, was not prepared to handle, and was a reminder of his greatest failure. Three years of running at least a literal third of a galactic war that was stacked against him (did he realize that by the end? That they were being played, and could never have won?).

Yeah, he’s got 20 years to work at recovering from that, but without a skilled therapist that I don’t think you’re going to find on Tatooine, you’re going to be lucky to be functional. I know that Star Wars as a whole doesn’t concern itself with mental health (seriously, mind healers are becoming one of my most cherished additions that Re-Entry brings to the table). That doesn’t mean ignoring it will get you a good character assessment.

Depression and PTSD isn’t going to make someone “a sad, bitter, lonely man” nor does it mean that one will metaphorically “be playing All By Myself on repeat for 20 straight years while sobbing into a cup of Bantha milk.” Depression expresses itself in any number of ways. It can mute things, so that while you laugh and even enjoy life, that joy doesn’t linger, or pales quickly. It can add a haze to everything, so you feel numb and distant. It can make someone who once expressed themselves exuberantly seem calm instead of manic. It doesn’t have to affect one’s wit, or habits of cracking jokes even if those jokes might feel flat and hollow to the speaker.

Sometimes it just leads to going through the motions of living, how one would have approached things Before – but it’s just empty motions.

PTSD can express itself as flashbacks. It can look like nothing until it is reactions to a different time and trauma instead of what is now and present. It can be a person haunted by their past, it can be explosive, it can be quiet and turned inwards. There are days when it doesn’t hit you, there are days when it’s so heavy on your shoulders that it feels like all you can do is sit, stare at a wall, and hope your brain shuts off. Then there are the days when despite that weight, you still need to go get groceries, or make dinner, or fix a vaportator, or fight off wayward Tuskens or something.

Nothing says that depressed and traumatized Obi-Wan wouldn’t sometimes take delight in lightsaber play, or practical jokes. I just don’t think that it would overtake the depression and PTSD.

On top of all of that is what you get when you take a look at the EU. Obi-Wan’s been traumatized since he was a kid. He was bullied through his tweens. He was rejected by the ONLY teacher he could hope to have until the Order booted him to the AgroCorps, at least a week before the official deadline. Then that shuttle crashed, and he saw his first major battle which led to approximately FOUR HUNDRED dead.

At not quite 13. Over the next year (probably less, but let’s be generous), he had to deal with: kidnapping, enslavement and hard labor, an attempted mind wipe, an actual war accompanied by abandonment by his teacher, and his teacher’s prior student trying to blow up his home. By the time Phantom Menace rolls around, we can include: several more wars, 6 months to a year on the run across war-torn Mandalore trying to keep a teenage Satine alive, taking responsibility for the death of Qui-Gon’s Love Interest – and that’s just what’s off the top of my head.

Y’know what’s interesting? During Attack of the Clones, what I see is a man just barely holding his shit together. That scene in Dex’s Diner breaks me, because all I can think of is my time doing food service while going through my own PTSD and depression – and I recognize that empty smile he has for Dex. I know it’s all interpretation, but I can’t help but think he’s faking that smile. That sure, he means it: he’s happy to see a friend, he wants to reassure him, but that doesn’t change the hollow inside that he knows if he lets go and falls into it, he will never climb out.

The war provided an alternative focus. It gave him clear, concrete goals: beat back enemies here and here, keep as many of these people alive as possible, here are resources and here are the end goals. He could legitimately bond with brothers in arms who could grok black humor, who wouldn’t look askance at someone covering long-standing grief and discomfort with banter and flirting, “who winked and witticized his way out of death and imprisonment a million times, who always found something to laugh about or make fun of even in the most difficult situations” – regardless of how inappropriate or relevant that might be to the circumstances.

Sometimes, that laughter is all that keeps you from breaking from all the pain.

Yes, people heal. Yes, he had 20 years to work through that trauma and injury. He’d also be doing it alone, with a legacy of stoicism and philosophies about releasing his emotions into the Force. The last major friendships he had ended in betrayal or in death, and people he depended on tended to either die or betray him.

That’s not something you blithely overcome to play pranks on the locals while watching over the kid of your best friend what you almost killed as he was trying to kill you, like he killed most everyone else you knew and loved. There is so much trauma and pain he’s had to see over the last 20 plus years, and Tatooine is the first time he ever gets to breathe and react.

If you want to write trickster archtype Obi-Wan, I applaud you. Without any sarcasm or mockery: you do you.

Meanwhile, I’ll be writing traumatized Old Ben.

(Many thanks to @morgynleri and @elegantmess-southernbelle who provided brilliant points and conversation, though I suspect I phrased it with much less grace and coherency than they did)

#star wars #meta #reviving from the purge #Norcumi has Opinions again #thinky thoughts #obi wan #character analysis #ptsd #trauma #depression #mbti #myers briggs

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