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reidsnose · 3 years

Text

happy campers

overview: the bau goes on a team building camping trip but reader and spencer spend most of their time together

genre: fluff

a/n: ive been kicking myself for not posting in forever but i think this one is pretty cute! please lmk what yall think :)

masterlist

the stuffy, eight person suv finally rolled to a stop, the overgrown children that call themselves the bau tumbling out as quickly and gracelessly as possible. Morgan and Reid nearing the end of a 2 and a half minute long slap fight that you happened to be caught directly in the middle of. you looked at jj, pleading to make them stop with her mom powers.

"boys behave or ill ground you both," she sighed, going to help out with taking things out of the trunk.

they immediately stopped, muttering under their breath that the other one started it. but before they could start again, Spencer caught a glance at you. you were taking a deep breath, smiling contently, very clearly happy to get some fresh, forest air. despite being in direct sunlight, your smile was far brighter than anything he'd seen in his whole life.

before he knew it he was being snapped out of his daze and asked to help set up the tents. he was really hoping to have a chance to share a tent with you, like you sometimes had done on cases when hotel rooms were scarce. but he knew that almost everyone wanted a spot in your tent because you're that much fun to be around. Penelope would win, obviously, and he would be paired up with morgan again.

he let out a sigh as he finished up pitching one of the tents, pulling the corner and nailing it into the ground. as he did so, something caught his eye: a pink, round, fat little worm crawled out of the dirt.

his attention was now fully on the worm, ecstatic to see it because he had been reading up on worms for a while. he called morgan and hotch over since they were the closest to him, rambling excitedly all hes learned about them so far. he looked up and could see the disinterest behind their polite smiles. his own smile faltered for a second, until he saw you finishing up pitching a tent.

"im gonna go show y/n. shes gonna love this!" spencer giggled, already walking towards you.

"hey kid i dont know if she-" morgan began.

"reid she might not-" hotch started as well.

but he had already reached you, sticking out his hand and revealing the worm. hotch and morgan looked at each other worriedly, concerned that the tiniest rejection from you, even about something as small as a worm, would tear his heart to pieces.

their faces changed from worry to confusion as they watched a wide grin crack on your face.

"oh! a worm!" you exclaimed gleefully.

they observed as you put your hand out and Spencer dropped the worm in your hand. you watched it wriggle around and would occasionally look up and nod along with his rambling, asking questions and listening intently. hotch and morgan were speechless, knowing full well if they offered a girl they liked a worm, she would not have the same reaction.

you and Spencer started walking back over to the tent, where hotch and morgan tried their best to seem busy. you two were laughing, something about putting the worm back where he found it so it gets home safely. if there was ever any doubt that you and Spencer would be the perfect couple, its completely disintegrated now.

you and Spencer were typically joined at the hip, but after the worm encounter, you two were especially inseparable.

the girls went down by the lake to tan while you and Spencer tried to build a hut out of random sticks and logs you found around the forest. and while the guys were fishing on that same lake, Spencer and you were rock skipping, and he was explaining to you the physics behind it. and you were both scaring away any potential fish for rossi, hotch, and morgan to catch. so you two were banished back into the forest for the time being. when the rest of the team came back, you and him were up in a tree, eating some of the snacks they'd packed, talking and laughing and subconsciously leaning into one another. you didn't need to be a profiler to see the signs. you two were head over heels already, even if you guys didn't know it yet.

after a bonfire full of roasted marshmallows and scary stories, laughs and giggles. it was a wonderful, but tiring night and before you knew it you were getting ready for bed, sharing highlights of the day back and fourth with Penelope.

"i'm picking up on a bit of a pattern," she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

you wracked your brain, "what pattern?"

"all of your highlights included a certain adorkable genius."

"what? no we just...he's my best friend so we-cause its fun and i just-" you stammered, feeling your face heat up with every passing second.

"relax my love, i was just teasing," she chuckled, turning over to go to sleep.

"yeah i know. goodnight pen."

"goodnight lovely," she sighed, "but give some thought to lover boy."

you chuckled lightly before whispering to yourself, "trust me i have."

you woke up and checked the time, it was 4:47am but you just could not fall asleep. you crawled out of the tent, grabbing your blanket when you felt the cool morning air rush at you. you didn't want to wake anyone, so you made your way over to the little hill that the suv was parked on, stealing the keys from hotch's bag and crossing to the other side that faced east. the sun would be rising soon, it would be nice to watch; you draped your blanket across your shoulders. you heard footsteps coming from behind you, your blood running cold, immediately assuming the worst.

you turned around and were met with Spencer's sleepy smile. his hair stuck up in all directions and he looked perfectly adorable. you had to resist your urge to give in and kiss him right then and there.

"you scared me!" you whispered, trying to stifle a smile.

"im sorry," he giggled, "why are you up?"

"im not sure i just couldnt fall back asleep. why are you up?" you echoed.

"morgan keeps farting."

you and him let out hearty laughs, quickly covering your mouths as to not wake up the rest of the team.

you faced the car for a second, legs growing tired from standing.

"look how pretty the fogged up windows look," you observed, facing back and fourth between the colorful sky and the muggy version reflecting on the suv. you pressed your hand against the window, leaving a print, "so cold!" you chuckled.

spencer put his hand next your handprint, quickly recoiling, "you werent lying," he laughed, shivering a little.

you looked at the two handprints, his comically larger than yours and you couldnt help but smile to yourself.

"do you want some blanket?" you asked, opening your arms.

"i think im too tall," he frowned, "maybe if i crouch?"

"how about," you dangled the keys infront of your face before opening the trunk of the suv, "front row seats to the sunrise and some blanket."

"that sounds perfect," he smiled, begging his body not to redden his cheeks.

you two crawled into the trunk, draping the blanket across both of your shoulders, being pulled together by the small piece of fabric. you two were completely cuddled together, getting maximum warmth from the blanket and each other's body heat. a comfortable silence floated between you, faint bird songs and the others breathing filling it with peace. you felt your eyelids droop, despite the breathtaking rebirth of the sun happing in front of you. spencer was just so comfortable.

he felt the same way, his head falling to rest on top of yours as sleep pulled at his eyes. he yawned lightly, pulling you closer and breathing you in. you smiled. perfectly content.

about an hour later, hotch woke up, searching frantically for his keys. he ran up to check if the suv was still there, only to be met with your sleeping figures in the open trunk, wrapped up tightly in a blanket, smiles on both of your faces despite being asleep. hotch was good at predicting things, he saw scenarios play out fully before they truly began.

he snapped a picture, knowing it would be put to good use in a few years, he smelled a wedding.

spencer and you spent the drive home smiling like a couple of idiots, grins growing wider each time the sun hit the window just right, revealing your handprints.

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

october 16

🍁 Mafia — Marauders

content warnings: violence, murder, daddy kink, slapping, dp

“Don’t go,” you whined, wrapping your body around James, trying to keep him from following Sirius and Remus out of bed.

You buried your face in his strong chest, sedated by his warm, familiar scent. Normally, he’d wrap an arm around you, but now he was trying to pry you off of him so he could accompany Sirius and Remus to a deal.

“Puppy, let him up,” Sirius scolded, pulling you off of the man.

“M’coming too,” you sighed, switching to cling to Sirius.

“No, back to bed,” Remus ordered.

They were getting up in the middle of the night to go to a meeting, insisting you had to stay in bed, protected by their private security stationed outside the doors and windows of your massive bedroom suite.

“Daddy, please. I’ll sit in the car and be good!” You begged, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I don’t want to have to worry about you-”

“Rem, we’re going to be late,” James spoke lowly, suggesting that it might be easier to just take you along then leave you to your mischief at home with their bodyguards.

“Alright. Come on, let’s get your trainers on,” Sirius sighed, kneeling down to slide the shoes on your feet and tie the laces.

Remus grasped your chin, making you look up at him. You jutted your lower lip out, pulling the sleeves of your pink sweats over your hands.

“If we let you come, you must obey everything we say. Understand me?” Remus’ deep voice thundered through you.

“Yes, daddy,” you nodded.

“What happens if you disobey?” James prompted as a further reminder.

“I get spanked and I don’t get to cum.”

Remus let go of you, praying that you actually behaved and wouldn’t make them regret letting you join.

“Wait!” You gasped before leaving the room, reaching for a stuffed bear that James had given you. Remus’ gaze was hard, but James quietly handed you the comfort item, hushing you before you broke into pathetic, insomnia-fueled whining.

“Come on, puppy,” Sirius said, anxious from having you join them. He preferred to keep you far away from their work, far from the violence and danger and drugs.

He climbed in the backseat with you, letting you snuggle under his arm while Remus drove into the city, James riding shotgun. Sleepiness caught up with you, your body remembering it was nearly four in the morning. Sirius’ inked hand came up to cradle your head, keeping you from being jostled by the uneven road.

The boys talked quietly, keeping their voices low so they didn’t disturb you. Sirius gently woke you up when you arrived at the destination, helping you out of the car and keeping your hand in his.

“Don’t speak to anyone. Don’t disrupt the meeting, just keep quiet,” James instructed, and you held the bear tight to your chest. Your other hand was wrapped in Sirius’s, the one not holding his gun.

Sirius glanced down at you when you yawned softly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. They went into a large office, and you were pulled sideways onto Sirius’s lap, letting you lay on his chest with an arm around you.

The discussion soon turned into muffled sounds as you drifted off into sleep, dozing in and out on his lap.

“What’s she got? A stuffed animal? What is she, a toddler?” A man mocked you, catching your attention.

Your sleep-bleary mind couldn’t react any way other than breaking down into tears, overly tired and emotionally wounded.

“S-Siri-” you stuttered out.

“Shh, puppy, it’s okay,” Sirius tried to pacify you, turning your face into his chest and stroking a tattooed hand through your hair.

A shot rang off from James’ gun, with almost no hesitation about avenging his innocent lover who’d been mocked by the disrespectful guard. Sirius didn’t allow you to look up, keeping his hand firmly placed on your head.

“Come on, puppy,” he lifted you and carried you back to the car.

Another round of sobs hit you, and Sirius couldn’t wipe your tears away faster than they fell. He softly urged you to tell him what you were so beside yourself about, but it wasn’t until all three of them were doting on you that you’d relaxed enough to speak coherently.

“I-I’m sorry… I don’t want you to b-be mad, I didn’t try to dis-rupt your meeting!” You stammered through sharp breaths.

“We aren’t upset with you. It’s not your fault, you were perfect, so well behaved,” Remus soothed, his voice much softer than before.

You struggled to calm yourself down, even after being assured you weren’t in trouble. Your knuckles were white from gripping your bear, and your cheeks and neck were tearstained.

“Switch with me, Padfoot,” James said affectionately.

He took the tattooed man’s place, undoing your seatbelt and maneuvering you onto his lap. James gently pressed kisses to your cheeks, nudging you with the tip of his nose.

“Look at the pretty lights,” he whispered, watch them glitter by as Remus flew down the interstate in his luxury vehicle.

He hummed softly, rubbing your back as you watched the lights, eventually relaxing.

“Daddy?” You called to Remus.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can we get some French fries on the way home?” You asked pitifully, rubbing your eyes and hoping he’d go for it.

James held back a laugh, and Sirius grinned, nodding at Remus. He went through a drive through, ordering French fries for his baby in a luxury car, notorious in the city for being a gang leader.

He handed you a box of French fries, and James opened his mouth, letting you feed him one. You ate them calmly, asking James to hold your bear. He obliged you, and as soon as the snack was finished, you were drifting back off to sleep on his lap.

James quietly kissed your cheek, carrying you back inside. The sun still had not risen in the sky, darkness surrounding your peaceful home. The guards fell silent as James carried your sleeping form back upstairs, laying you gently in bed.

You woke up in your empty room, none of the boys around you. The events of the morning slowly returned to your memory, and you went to the shower to wash them away. Your wet hair fell over your shoulders, and you wrapped a fluffy towel around your body, walking to their office.

“Good morning, puppy,” Sirius smirked, and you walked to him, giving the man a kiss. He pulled on the towel, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you completely naked before the three.

Sirius pressed open-mouthed kisses along your breasts, your waist being squeezed in his tattooed hands. James’ hands groped the globes of your ass before dipping down to run his fingers through your slit.

“Already nice and wet for us, huh, puppy?” James teased, circling your dripping hole with his fingertips.

“She knows she has to take care of the boss first,” Remus’ voice broke through the haze that was beginning to cloud your mind.

“You heard daddy,” Sirius slapped your ass, leaving a handprint on the smooth skin.

You knelt between his spread legs, opening your mouth obediently, gently lapping at the swollen tip of his cock before he pushed it down your throat. Your low whine vibrated around him as Remus began to fuck your throat, both hands on your head, helping guide your movements.

“Shh, baby,” he hushed when you choked on his massive size.

“Be a good girl and swallow, yeah?” James encouraged, wiping the strained tears that streaked down your pretty cheeks.

You felt Remus’ cock twitch before he spilled down your throat as you frantically swallowed, trying to suck down all of his load.

“There you go, puppy. Such a good little cumslut.”

You preened under his praise, leaning back against James as you caught your breath. His hand wrapped around your throat as his mouth worked to mark your collarbones.

“Let’s get her to the couch, I can’t wait to tear up our sweet little puppy,” Sirius said, helping you onto the couch in their office.

“God, your cunt is fucking soaked. Are you this horny from sucking off daddy?” James pushed apart your lips with his fingers, letting Sirius toy with your clit that was swollen and throbbing.

You jerked forward, closer to James, who wrapped your hand around his swelling cock. You stroked him a few times before helping him align with your pussy, sinking down onto him as he stretched you out.

“James!” You gasped, clinging to his body as he dragged along your channel, thrusting his hips up into yours.

You whimpered when you felt Sirius grip your ass, spreading you apart and rubbing his cock against your tight hole. He hushed your soft whimpers, unable to protest as James fucked perfectly into your g-spot.

“Stretch her ass out, Pads. She can take it, even if she squeals,” Remus smirked, earning a wounded look from you.

Your expensively manicured nails dug into James’ back as Sirius pushed into your ass, tearing a scream from your lips.

“Fuck!”

“I don’t want to hear that nasty word out of your mouth,” Remus commanded, bringing his palm down on your cheek.

A pathetic whimper slipped from your lips as Sirius bottomed out, only giving you a moment to adjust before rocking his hips in the opposite rhythm of James, the men fucking you hard and fast between them.

Sirius’s tattooed hand squeezed your throat, keeping your back against his chest, slamming his hips against your ass as James’ hips bruised yours. Your head dropped back over Sirius’ heart, against the tattoo that read ‘puppy’.

“I’m going to get you off first, puppy, so you’re nice and sensitive when Siri and I pump your holes full of cum,” James grinned, patting your cheek that was still smarting from Remus’ correction.

Your eyes squeezed shut as he brought a small vibrator to your clit, forcing his cock into you even harder, making your core tense up as pressure built between your hips. The pain of Sirius stretching your ass was delicious. And you could feel both of them throbbing inside of you. Nerves sparked in your entire body, and you tried to squirm away, though it was impossible.

Your scream rang out, bouncing off of the walls as you gushed around them, squirting onto the leather couch and their thighs as you tremored from the intensity of your orgasm.

Your body felt like it was on fire as they continued thrusting into you, the overstimulation burning through your nerves. Sirius’ hand clamped over your mouth to silence your screams, burying himself fully in your ass before emptying his cum inside of you. Remus handed him a plug to keep it all in, and Sirius held you still while James finished in your pussy.

“What a mess you made,” James smirked, watching the thick white cream drip from your puffy pussy after he pulled out.

You couldn’t form any words, only a moan as Sirius pulled out of your ass, quickly pushing the plug in to keep his warm load inside of you.

“So good for us, baby.”

You accepted a kiss from each of them, too blissed out to even think. They’d fucked you completely dumb, leaving your head spinning and your body aching and full.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, then you can sit with me until I finish work, yeah?” Sirius offered, earning a small nod from you.

#grey's kinktober #grey’s kinktober #kinktober 2021 #marauders #marauders smut #mafia!marauders #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #marauders au #marauders era #marauders oneshot

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casualmaraudering · 4 years

Note

I saw your old post about “James Potter would kill for Remus” and it made me remember that their friendship is R E A L L Y underrated. Do you have any hcs involving them?

of course I do dear anon, I'm always up for some quality James & Remus friendship

Remus presses all of James's motherly buttons. the boy forgets to eat, drink, doesn't sleep right, he's just a mess, and it gives James an aneurysm every time

James is the one who wakes Remus early enough so Rem can still get some breakfast (cause, if he wakes up by himself, contrary to popular belief, Remus will get up five minutes before classes) - he's replaced by Sirius later cause Sirius is also an early riser, and he ends up sleeping in Rem's bed through all of 7th year, so it's just more convenient

James often will bring snacks too - Remus, if caught up in something, won't get up for hours, and he's not even aware of being hungry. James just periodically pushes snacks towards him and Remus eats them without realising

if it wasn't for James, Remus would accidentally fall asleep in his binder at least three times a week. sometimes he's just too tired/lazy to take his clothes off and James has to nudge him until he takes it off

they actually bond over both of them having a crush on Lily in fifth year. James isn't really that jealous - it's nice to have someone to talk to about it, since Sirius is really awkward about talking to girls (in mids of his gay awakening and all)

Remus is very sleepy the few days after the full, and his secretly favourite place to nap is James's bed. James has the softest pillows somehow

Remus teaches James (& Sirius) all about various Muggle trinkets, especially during the summer

often enough, actually, they'd hang out by themselves cause Sirius isn't allowed to visit over the summer before he ran away. so a lot of the times, James would visit the Lupins and go crazy about Mrs Lupin's car or even the microwave

the pride on James's face when he successfully brewed coffee 'the muggle way', you should have seen it

James's dad is a professional potioneer, ofc. James spends a lot of time in his lab, asking him about either potions about werewolves, or gender changes. "out of curiosity" he says, but I mean. he's not exactly subtle. I wouldn't be surprised if his parents knew everything there is to know about all of his friends

when James visited once, Remus took him to the fair that was in town. and that day he was the first, and only one of James's friends, to learn that James is terrified of clowns (it's not like James knew what clowns were before that). they agreed not to speak about it any more, and Remus just bought them far too much cotton candy and they fucked around doing nothing all day

Remus doesn't miss a Quidditch practice. He's not interested in the sport at all, but he knows James likes the reassurance of his friends being there.

similarly, Remus always lets James ramble about tactics. Remus doesn't understand shit, and James knows. James just likes to talk to Remus, and Remus likes the sound of James's voice as background noise

sometimes they'll sneak out of the dorms late at night and drink hot chocolate in the kitchens - usually a day or two before the full, when Remus can't sleep

James is convinced only Remus knows how to properly make tea. it doesn't taste quite as good when anyone else makes it

Remus pierced one of James's ears once at night in 6th year (totally not cause Lily mentioned boys look cute in earrings)

Lily used to think Remus talks about James a lot to try and get her to date him but nah. Remus just talks about James a lot

they bond over their mutual hate of raisins. sometimes there's full on battles in the dorms cause Sirius and Peter like them and James and Remus aggressively hate them

Remus looses most of his own shit but somehow he's aware of where James's glasses are at all times

James, unlike Sirius, knows when Remus can handle himself. Sirius is ready to throw hands whenever anyone offends Remus. James, on the other hand, lets Rem handle it. he only steps in when he sees someone's words Really hit him deep. then you're fucked

on the other hand, Remus has many fun hexes dedicated to people who like to talk shit about James. & no one ever suspects him cause he's a prefect

Remus really likes to steal James's sweatshirts cause they always smell a bit nicer than anyone else's laundry, for some reason

Remus bought James a salt lick for his birthday once. many people have licked it since then (Remus himself included)

#no one can resit a salt lick ok #remus lupin #james Potter #sirius black #the marauders #my tag #headcanon tag #ask tag #anon tag #trans remus #James and Remus deserve all the good things

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alchemist-shizun · 4 years

Text

Darkness falls in time

Read on Ao3!

Word Count: 2,699

Characters: Deceit, Remus (minorly) and a new boy. (Ophis is Deceit’s pet snake gifted by the other sides)

Pairing(s): Either none or open to interpretation

Warning(s): Major character death, suicide, self-harm implication, one mention of knife, relapse, sort of panic attack, poisoning, blood mentions, pet death.

Summary: Deceit was failing and he wasn’t able to admit it to himself. What the others weren’t aware of was that it wasn’t entirely his fault.

A/N: OH BOY Y'ALL this idea came from this post my dear friend Lance made, and I thought why not make a sequel to “As soon as the curtain is raised”? You don’t really have to read the other one to understand this one, just know that Deceit went too far with trying to be accepted and all the rest of the sides ultimately noticed and helped him. Please be mindful of the heavy topics of this fic and stay safe. Hope you enjoy! Is this my take on the orange side who knows maybe not oops

✾

❝ Close your eyes, scoop the wind, dissolve yourself, ring the bells.

No matter how many times the thunder hits, I will go beyond the darkness while singing. ❞

Relapsing.

Worsening. Deteriorating. Degenerating. Sickening. Weakening.

Failing.

Deceit was failing and he wasn’t able to admit it to himself, let alone the others.

Erosion, a natural, gradual and undetectable disaster now applied to all the improvement he had reached in such a long time.

Useless steps forward against an enormous jump meters back, as if startled by his own progress.

His fingers trailed over his left cheek, barely brushing the uneven path his scales left; normally when he did that, Ophis would appear between his hands in all his grace, reminding him how blindingly charming snake skin looked with his bright yellow pigment.

Were he able to move in that particular moment, he would’ve checked on him.

Instead, his eyes seemed to widen from the perpetual frowning gaze and fixate on the rug.

Just like one of those alluring energies that pulled you towards an unknown destination, Deceit was unconsciously being dragged back into the dark pit of his own tragic fall.

Urgings of all kinds piled up on top of each other, resulting in nothing but chaos as he moved his eyes regretfully to his hands.

Held up at chest level, he could barely make out the outline of those trembling sunny gloves that he would have been able to rip apart into shreds at any given moment.

It wasn’t himself. It was that again. Testing and trying him so that could seek delight in his decadence.

Deceit parted his lips and focused all of his strength in his throat, forcing out any sound that could have made sense.

Which didn’t happen immediately.

Instead, a choking sensation pervaded his body and he forgot how to breathe altogether.

Not even gasping for air, he waited until he was so devoid of oxygen that he sucked in a short breath in a tick.

« Rem, » he knew Remus was on the other end of the couch, busying himself with whichever object he had previously created.

« Dee? » the duke had been eyeing him from that exact spot for a good minute by then, preparing for an eventual need of assistance.

That was the case, indeed.

Remus studied his friend’s complexion: his focus completely on himself, the realization that he was not going to steady himself without help. Deceit kept staring at his hands, the unstoppable visible shaking setting dread in his insides, all while hunched over himself.

He watched him meet his eyes with a careful movement of his head.

« Stop me. »

That was the cue.

Stop me, or I won’t be able alone. Stop me, or I will rip off the skin from my face again. Stop me, or I will scream until my voice is soar and I will hate myself.

Stop me.

Or I will regret it.

Dark Creativity moved, impossibly cautious as he laced his fingers around Deceit’s wrists in a loose lock.

Frantic heartbeats coming from the trembling side were all that separated them.

Remus drew ghost lines on the other’s arm, so to give him some sense of grounding reality; he pulled both to each other’s feet, beginning their journey towards their usual destination during severe episodes of relapse: the Imagination.

Roman and Remus had found their hangout place to be an effective solution, as futile as it could sound.

Despite it being the literal embodiment of unreality, it helped Deceit visualize his damaging memories and destroy them altogether.

Once they left the room, a young petite snake shifted ever so slightly in his aquarium: Ophis was used to being a comfort pet for the troubled side, but was always kept aside when the most urgent relapsing struck.

It was crystal clear already that Deceit hadn’t been doing well.

Ophis was there so he reminded himself of a daily routine, so he would feed him and check on him constantly and set himself back on track with his tasks.

Yet, in the last few weeks the days in which Deceit would forget to give the tiny pet his food would increase, he would carry through the hours without allowing himself a break to pet him for a while, sinking deeper in his melancholy state instead.

If only Roman had also given Ophis the ability to notify them when things were going downhill.

Even if he had been able to, he wouldn’t have probably had enough strength to do it: it wasn’t like none other than Deceit cared about him, but lately events had been so shaky and everyone was rushing to get Deceit to calm down, ending up with innocently failing to remember Ophis would get ill.

And getting ill he did.

The worst case scenario: he represented the deterioration his owner’s mind was being subjugated to.

Which meant ultimately that was only little time left before the inevitable.

Because of that, that destroyer of psyche.

In another side of the Mindscape, Remus was still leading his friend toward a worn-looking door he crossed everyday; he’d recall memories here and there, making sure Deceit was focused on the present reality.

« Go on, then, » once inside the Imagination, they stopped in the middle of nothingness. « Relinquish it all. »

Deceit hadn’t found it difficult the first time he tried to bend the landscape to his will, it seemed his willpower to recall disastrous events outweighed Remus’s own creative flow.

He had his eyes closed out of habit, preparing himself to the blight he’d caused.

« Uh … why is it all dark? » the duke called at his side, looking around himself for any of his usual ferocious creatures.

A reminded that was still there.

« Please no, leave me alone. » Deceit muttered under his breath, looking towards the sky in defeat.

« What are- Do you want me to leave? »

He looked at his friend, who had misunderstood who his interlocutor was.

And nodded.

Facing that alone it was, then.

Remus raised an eyebrow, unconvinced and hesitant as he headed for the door.

« Just shout something lewd when you need me. »

Deceit let himself chuckle. « As per usual, will do. »

Then Remus left.

Then he started running.

Ophis watched as the duke made his entrance with no trophy: doom hovered upon them as the snake remembered that everytime Deceit was left alone in the Imagination, his condition would unfathomably worsen.

« He said I had to leave. » he mused whilst pacing towards the pet. « It’s not like I don’t trust him, but this whole ordeal is kinda suspicious. »

Ophis watched with half-lidded eyes as Dark Creativity brushed part of his skin.

« But what do you know? » he shrugged. « I don’t think there’s anything dangerous in the complete nothingness anyway. »

The snake was barely able to keep staring at the bright green and pitch black of his clothing.

« This little guy seems sleepy, huh? » Remus took a step back from the aquarium.

« I’ll leave you be, too. »

Deceit had started running.

In the deepness of the obscurity left by his mind’s amalgamation of perceiving and memories, now become the reality around him, he slowed only once a moonlit spot sparkled between what appeared to be leafless trees blackened by trauma.

He halted to look around himself multiple times.

« What do you want?! » the desperate called out at the sky, hands curled into fists as his arms were slightly raised. « Just tell me what you want and leave me alone, please! »

Low chuckling came thundering like an ancient deity upon preying a hopeless faithful mortal.

Deceit shook his head, holding it between his hands only to glance back at the dark clouds descending before him.

An anthropomorphic figure he recognized all too well distinguished itself from its smokey frame, two arms crossed over a chest, a finger tapping eagerly.

An open-mouthed mischievous grin embellished the ever-changing shape of that face.

Two eyes opened and a pair of orange, almost golden irises pierced through Deceit, as bright as the incandescent steel of a soon-to-be weapon.

His feet touched the ground, sizzling the grass until it disintegrated in grey ashen particles, becoming one with the trail of obsidian mist left behind every single inch of his outline.

He looked like he was about to fade away at any given moment.

Deceit had already been wearing a worn expression by the time he approached, leaving the air heavy around them, as if a bubble of destruction had just encaged them.

The figure widened its smile.

« Get out. » the side muttered, finding breathing an overbearing task all of a sudden. « Why are you finding this so funny? Just- get over yourself! »

He stepped forward until only a few inches separated them, chuckling again as fingers acuminated like a knife cupped Deceit’s face, cutting his cheeks with evanescent fog.

« Oh, angel, you know I can’t simply do that, »

« Don’t call me that. » the side lowered his eyebrows, squinting.

« There’s no fun in waiting around … Why not just strike at once every now and then? » a fabricated pitiful gaze met disgust. « You know how I am, after all. Who I am. »

« I’m tired of playing your idiotic games, » Deceit leaned in with venom on his tongue as he sputtered out his name. « Decay. »

Decay made a sound in the back of his throat. « And yet you seem to still fall for them. How peculiar. » he let his arms fall to his side, eyes lingering on the other’s face as the black vapour left his cheeks gradually. « Why? » taking a step backward, his voice grew louder. « Can you not resist me, angel? » a lopsided smile framed his last word.

« You know exactly the reason why. You’re doing dirty work you’re not supposed to out of spite. » Deceit referenced in his mind the countless times his conditions had kept decreasing to a point of no return, especially when he had started picking at his scales, months prior.

And Decay knew that.

Because he had been the cause of it all along.

« You know, sometimes I don’t understand. » as he paced around the side, anything he touched dissolved into the void of non-existence. « You’ve been rejected, and I was, too. »

That had happened a long time earlier.

Decay had strived for so long to become a side, but never succeeded as his sole purpose served as a mean of deterioration of Thomas’s mind. His actions had been purely destructive and they had to keep him at bay to protect the entirety of the Mindscape and Thomas’s brain itself.

His was one of those overwhelming powers not even he could control, or rather, he didn’t want to control them; destruction was something that needed to be slow and progressive, while Decay was not one for patience at all.

They made him let off steam by keeping him in the Imagination and having the two Creativities deal with him, letting him damage catastrophically anything they built.

Remus was the best at keeping up with him, but there were times in which both he and Roman came back from their encounter absolutely devastated, pushed over their limit.

It was then that Thomas was the most stressed out, so they all teamed up to make sure they would get some rest and a break.

But Decay would eventually come back, eager to unleash his energy even stronger than before, getting worse by the days.

None of them would have been able to stand a chance against him in the long run.

And now, tired of the monotone fights with Roman and Remus, he decided to strike his blow on Deceit, making only him pay for the grudges he held against all of the sides.

« So I wonder … » he stopped to rest an arm on Deceit’s shoulder, who believed for a moment it would fall right through him.

He felt his clothes almost burning, Decay’s eyes stabbing the side of his face, pleading to be taken into consideration.

« Why are you still in my way? »

Deceit bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the self-destructive urges such closeness with the other caused; were he to move, he would have fallen to his knees.

« Our circumstances differ for one detail: the only reason why I’ve been “rejected”, as you put it, is because of a misunderstanding between me and Thomas, which I will resolve in due time. »

« Yeah, that’s it. » Decay’s fingers dug in his skin. « Is that the line you learnt by heart to appease yourself? » it felt like Deceit’s own venom had started circulating in his thoughts instead of his blood. « Is that what you tell yourself everytime a hint of doubt crosses your mind? » the pitiful tone came back.

Decay chuckled and placed a hand on Deceit’s left cheek. « Oh, angel, » he carefully moved his head so the other looked at him. « It doesn’t work like that against me. »

All Deceit wanted was to push him away, yet he hurt all over, so all he could fathom to do was comply to that tedious monologue and refrain from punching that delicate face that was way too impending on himself.

« You of all people should know that lying isn’t necessary in this situation. So why do you keep trying? »

« Can we skip this futile blabber and get to the point already? »

« How long has it been since you started trying to convince yourself you might make it? »

Deceit shuddered. « Shut up. »

« They accepted Remus before they even considered you. »

« Shut up. » he curled his hands into fists at his sides. « I’m not falling for your trap again. »

« Oh, are you sure about that, angel? » Decay stepped aside to stare him down: he was met with a trembling body, as shaky as a winter’s leaf, eyes about to spill some tears and mind on the verge of a serious breakdown.

Decay was surprised he had endured his presence that long.

Two different coloured irises bored into intensely orange ones, between fear, determination and the will to wreak havoc.

« Yes, » Deceit turned, finally faced him, and focused his strength on lifting one of his arms to grip at Decay’s shoulder. He remembered they were in the Imagination, which permitted him to bend it to his own will, too.

« Want to know why? »

At once, Decay’s misty presence became a perfectly distinguishable body and, as he was too busy being astonished and looking at his solid self, Deceit opened the button on one of his gloves and brought his wrist to his teeth the moment Decay’s glance fell back on the side’s face.

Ophis felt it.

He knew when Deceit dipped his teeth in his veins and let the venom pour and infect his blood, he knew when Deceit squeezed his eyes shut like it was all an ineffable nightmare.

He knew when they were both about to die.

So Ophis let himself rest in his lonely aquarium, while Remus was sharing his doubts with Roman in the other living room, unknowing.

« Because, »

Decay’s disbelief didn’t falter as Deceit reached him, his feet slithering on the disintegrated grass.

The side portrayed a tight lipped sad smile, but with a hint of triumph.

« I’m taking you down with me. »

Deceit pulled Decay’s arm to his mouth, stabbing his skin open with his canines and crushing Decay’s own degeneration with the most catastrophic poison.

Black and purple painted their veins: wide eyes accused the snake-faced side, the same eyes that stared down at their owner’s newly acquainted body fading away into the wind the same way he had dissolved the grass around him before.

And when those same two eyes disappeared the way they came to be, for the last time, Deceit allowed himself to rest.

He fell to the ground and slipped into eternal slumber.

#purp's writings #deceit sanders #remus sanders #ts deceit #ts remus #imma give a name to the new character #ts decay #ts ophis #there the snake too #sanders sides #fanfiction #ts fanfic #angst #read the warnings #tw major character death #tw suicide #tw blood #pet death

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serenailith · 6 years

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Home

Since he was five years old, Steve has shared dreams with another boy. It's not a common thing - at least, as far as Steve knows. But as they grow up, Steve and Tony grow closer. They don't get time outside of the dreams, but Steve won't let that get in the way. All he cares about is the fact that Tony is Tony, the wonderful, eccentric, self-destructive, self-deprecating, stubborn, beautiful mess he's grown up with in his dreams. Tony is home.

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littlebitwolfstar · 7 years

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The Perfect Family: a wolfstar fanfic

Remus and Sirius sat alone in the Gryffindor common room one night after everyone else had gone to bed. Remus lied curled up with his head in Sirius’s lap dosing off in the heat of the fire. Sirius gently ran his fingers through the sleepy boy’s hair, looking absently into the flames.

“Hey Rem?” he said so quietly that is Remus didn’t have werewolf hearing, he would have missed it.

“Hmm?” Remus responded, still firmly held by sleep.

Sirius hesitated, his eyes flicking to Remus for just a second before they return the burning hearth in front of him. “Do you want kids?”

Remus sleepily shifted so he can look up at the other boy. “What?” confusion set in the wrinkles on his forehead.

“Kids. Do you want some?”

“What? To eat?” Remus joked in an attempt to cut through the tension.

“I’m serious Moony!” Sirius snapped with a little more anger in his tone than he intended.

“And I’m Remus” The joke is always just too easy

Sirius sighed and started to get up. “Never mind, just forget I said anything. I’m just going to go to bed.” Remus grabbed Sirius by the arm and pulled him back down on the couch, using just enough force so he couldn’t try to escape again.

“No, wait. I’m sorry, Pads. Please don’t go” He smiled at the Animagus apologetically. “Why are you talking about children?”

Sirius’s expression softened but he turned his face away from the young werewolf. “It’s just something Evans said at dinner earlier.” Remus waited patiently for the boy to continue. After a long moment of silence though, he spoke up.

“What did she say?” Sirius stayed quite but clenched his fists. “Sirius,” Remus pushed, the concern growing in his tone.

All at one, all of pent up emotion Sirius had been holding in poured out of him and he started to ramble, “Well, James and I were messing around, you know, as brothers do, and I threw some mashed potatoes at James. He ducked, because he has those quidditch reflexes and all, and it hit Lily and Alice and Lily went all red and furious and she shouted ‘Sirius Black! Why are you so childish? I feel bad for your future children! They are doomed to be just like you!’” Sirius then went quiet, looking to his lap.

Remus just sat there in shock at the other boy’s outburst. He wasn’t sure what to say so he simply ran his hand through Sirius’s hair, who always seems to lean into the affection. “You will make an amazing father, Sirius” he said after some time.

Sirius looked up at him, eyes welling with unfallen tears. There was a child-like look of relief on his face at these words. “You mean it? I just want to have the happy family you didn’t get as a kid. I don’t want to mess that up for you with my dumb-,“ Remus cut him off with a deep kiss that Sirius was not at all expecting.

After a moment, they broke apart. Remus was smiling widely at Sirius. “What?”

“You silly mutt. Any family I have with you will be beyond perfect”

That devilish smile Remus was so used to spread across Sirius’s face and Remus couldn’t hold back. He pounced on top of the other boy showering him with kisses.

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trustmsfox · 6 years

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The First Six Months

Wow. My little dude is 6 months old. Half a year. 26 weeks. It feels like a bit of a landmark moment so I guess I should record some of the highs and lows that we have been through along the way. When I was pregnant people said things like "Having a baby eh? It's the hardest job you'll ever do" and "It's amazing but so tough." Personally I think those comments are misleading as it's not the hardness or the toughness of the last 6 months that has taken me aback, it's the INTENSITY. If you ask me, having a baby is one of the most intense things you can ever do (I've never climbed a really tall mountain, run a marathon or lived by myself in a foreign country, so I can't compare). It's a relentless, 24 hours a day, overwhelming, always-on, rollercoaster of ALL THE FEELS. I've never felt so many things, from one extreme to another, in such a short space of time. Allow me to elaborate... I'll keep it to the top 10 feels, in the interests of time.

1. Happy

Pure unadulterated joy; I'm not even sure those three words do this feeling justice. The first time I felt this was when my son was born. I may have been drugged up to the eyeballs (well, technically up to the armpits actually as I had an emergency C section) but that moment is burned into my brain and my retina forever. "He's coming out now" the doctor said, I looked at my husband and burst into tears. All those months of worrying and waiting and lugging around my giant distended body... our baby was finally here. There was a second's pause, which felt like an eternity, and then we heard a good healthy cry. I don't think I've ever heard a better sound. It actually brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. "It's a boy!" my husband said (we had decided to keep the sex a surprise) and I blubbed even harder. I would have been happy whether it was a boy or a girl, but the joy of finally finding out the secret our baby had been keeping all along was just magical. Then suddenly our brand new baby boy was placed on my chest and all I could think was "Oh my god he's massive!" I kissed his nose and felt like I had known him all my life. For that moment I will be eternally grateful, as I know not everyone feels like this when their child is born, for a variety of reasons (hormones are a bitch). Unfortunately I then realised I needed to throw up and spent the next 20 minutes doing that, whilst my husband did the fun stuff like cutting the cord and cuddling our brand new baby.

2. Anxious

So much anxiety, for so many reasons. It comes and goes like a shitty nit picky irritating Auntie who keeps "popping in" for a cuppa, uninvited. How much is he supposed to nap? Is he napping enough, too much, how do I get him to sleep??? If I go to Tesco will he wake up? Is he breathing? I know I just checked, but is he still breathing? Will the cat sleep on his head? Will I roll over and crush him in my sleep? Will I fall down the stairs carrying him? Is he still alive (nearly every time I drove for more than 5 minutes with him in the car)? Should I give him calpol? If I give him formula will he be ok? Did I sterilise those bottles already or shall I put them on again? If I drink this glass of wine will it go into my breast milk? What if a I find a spider in his cot? I haven't texted a bunch of people back - will they still be my friends? Will I ever lose this baby weight? I could go on, but I'm sure you get the idea. Most of this is totally irrational, but that's just how it goes when you're not getting regular good amounts of deep sleep or REM. It's a fucker.

3. Amazed

The "firsts" really are incredible, but for me the truly amazing thing is how quickly these new skills become normal and then you're onto something new. One minute you're pulling out all the stops to try and get a little smile, next minute you're tickling the b'jesus out of them and they are giggling so deliciously you think you might combust. One minute you're watching them struggle and kick and desperately try to roll over, the next minute you're thinking "Fuck, I need a stair gate, this kid is about to crawl!" One minute you're cursing that sodding creaky floorboard, as you gently place them back in their Moses basket and creep back into bed, the next minute they're in their own room and when you put them down for the night you actually miss them (I’m aware that’s utterly ridiculous but it happens every night!)

4. Helpless

I had this a lot and the feeling intensified particularly after my son developed THE SCREAM. I think THE SCREAM is probably worthy of its own blog post, so I won't go into all the detail, but suffice it to say my son is capable of an eardrum-bursting, blood-curdling, terrifying, horror movie scream that sounds like a piglet being tortured to death. At his 16 week jabs, when he really got into his stride with it, the nurse looked at me and said "I've never heard a baby make a sound like that", which made me feel a bit better as she makes babies cry for a living. My son has other cries, which I can just about cope with, but once he developed THE SCREAM it meant that all other cries could escalate into THE SCREAM at any given moment. I lived in permanent fear of it. Sometimes unfortunately I'd be in a position where I couldn't fix the problem. For instance, being late for a feed whilst being stuck in traffic in the car, or mis-timing a pushchair nap and having to run around trying to get ready to leave the house while listening to him wailing. I can't count the amount of times I felt trapped, helpless and overwhelmed when all I ever tried to do was anticipate his needs to avoid a screaming fit, got it wrong and he did it anyway. Then of course there were times when he just shouted at me for what seemed like no reason at all; they were equally as fun.

5. Exhausted

I once said to my husband "My soul is tired" and it quickly became a running joke because it sounded so melodramatic, but I still honestly think it's the only way I've ever come close to describing the exhaustion I have experienced. It's not like normal tiredness because there's never a Saturday lie in or an early night on the horizon to catch up. There is no catching up. You just have to adapt to running on 15% battery, unless of course you're gifted a sleepy baby, and even then I still think looking after them all day long is pretty goddamn knackering anyway.

6. Love

In one of my darkest times, on the phone to a counselling service, I was asked "How do you feel towards your baby?" I know I was being asked the red flag questions for post-natal depression but my answer came from the heart: "I love my son so much it terrifies me." I think that's a fairly good summation of how intense the feelings can be. Initially you love a little pink squawky thing, which is kind of like the love you have for a pet, because it’s cute. Then, as time goes on, it grows into love for an actual little person, who has their own personality and feelings and stuff. This kind of love is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced, because I love someone who is growing and changing every day, right in front of my eyes. It takes your breath away.

7. Overwhelmed

Every now and then I have these moments where this feeling bubbles up inside of me and I just hit a wall of overwhelmed-ness, if there is such a thing. It usually follows an episode of my little guy bawling his eyes out, or busting out THE SCREAM, but sometimes it just appears out of the blue, triggered by something really small that reminds me how co-dependent my son and I are right now. I am a super independent person, didn’t have a baby until well into my 30s and I’m basically running the show by myself day to day as we don’t have family nearby, so I think this is one of the things I struggle with the most. When you can’t take a shit in peace, when you can’t just get yourself a glass of water, when you can’t hang up the washing, when you can’t leave the house without seven tonnes of shit, when sometimes you can’t even leave the house, it can just feel so immensely overwhelming that you don’t know what to do with yourself. But then it passes, you get your act together and you get on with it, because that’s the way it is.

8. Relief

"He's asleep." These two words are the source of the most immeasurable amount of relief. Whether it’s naps or nighttime, there are weeks and weeks where the sleep is just so hard-won. The feeling of sheer relief when you see their little eyes flutter closed and their arms flop back behind their head is just unreal. For some moments, there might be some peace for both of you, and that is a thing to be enjoyed... while it lasts!

9. Unqualified

The responsibility of it all. Jesus Christ! This feeling is behind the moments I've had where I've just wanted to hand my son to a stranger, not because I didn’t love him or want him, but because I just didn’t know what he wanted and I desperately wanted someone else to tell me what to do. You can read all the books in the world, do an NCT course, talk to your friends with kids, but no one can tell you how your kid works. They don’t come with a manual and I’m still utterly astounded by how completely different they can be, right out of the proverbial box.

10. Smooshy

I don't really know how to describe this one, but it's like when you see a dog with big sad eyes, or a fluffy bunny, or a baby's chubby cheeks, and the cuteness of them bubbles up inside you and you want to bite them and squeeze them and you find yourself doing that baby voice and shouting "Yes you are!" You've all felt that at some point, right? Yes? It's not just me? Oh thank god. Anyway, yes, that. Sometimes when I look at my little boy, I just think he is so goddamn cute I just want to nibble his cheeks and kiss him from head to toe. Gah!!!!

So yeah, the first 6 months have been fairly rollercoaster-y, but much as the real lows have been lonely dark horrible places, the highs have been higher than I ever could imagined. They’ve been these incredible eye-popping, heart-busting, breath-stealing, stomachs-fluttering moments that I will treasure for as long as I live. If the lows were the price I paid for the highs, then they were worth it a million times over.

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friendlylocalwhumper · 5 years

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part 1 | part 2

The pain is what wakes him, in the middle of the night. Lux gives a sleep-laden whine as Emory drapes an arm over him, and then the discomfort of new pressure becomes sudden agony. The sleepy groan that was starting turns into a raw whimper as the warlock wakes and scrambles to remember where he is. Just home, still home, in bed - but his ribs feel like they’re being broken all over again.

“Ple-ease,” He begs softly into the dark room. Weight shifts beside him and he realizes, as the arm lying over his chest cinches around it, that Emory is trying to hug him in his sleep.

“Em, w-wake up.” He’s being quiet, nervous about waking Emory up and making him feel bad, but it’s too quiet. His boyfriend cuddles closer with an unconscious sigh and hugs tighter. His hand, tucked around the side, digs in at just the wrong spot, and Lux yells in pain - not an angry-sounding yell, but one that’s airy and rough from the pain of forcing it out of a battered ribcage.

“Wha-?” Emory jolts awake, hands fumbling as he pushes himself up and away from the one beside him. “Lux?”

Low pained sounds huff out of Lux as he raises a shaking hand to hold it over his own chest protectively.

“Are you okay? What - did I hurt you?”

“Mmhmm,” Lux answers tremulously, unable to admit it in words. “Nnnnh…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, honey, I was asleep… are you okay? Did I - nothing, nothing cracked, right?”

“‘s alright, I-I’m okay, it’s okay.” He can’t manage even a hint of a shaky smile, but Lux tries to assure Emory that he understands. “‘s okay-“ Lux's eyes go wide and he chokes out a startled whimper, turning his head away with a sharp flinch, as Emory reaches for his face. Gonna get hit, gonna get hit, he thinks, eyes squeezed shut tight. All sense and awareness evaporated at the sight of the hand approaching, with the pain he’s in, and the suffocating doom-feeling of knowing he disobeyed the Hunter today.

“I’m not gonna hit you,” Emory says, tone gentle and aching.

“S-sorry,” Lux rasps. His eyes open and then flutter before squeezing shut tight again against a new wave of pain. A dull, ominous crack from within his chest is followed by a real scream this time.

The punishment isn’t over. Lux lets out a weak sob as the next rib is fractured by the Hunter’s magic. The first four ribs were snapped earlier, after Emory helped him limp into their bedroom (his hip, though healed, still ached from the recent trauma of being shoved out of place). A punishment from the Hunter. Lux had buried his face into Emory’s shoulder to stifle his sounds, unwilling to worry Alex. Poor Alex was lying out there on the floor, coughing up blood and crumpling to the floor when he tried to stand.

Now, the punishment has started up again. Emory flinches right along with Lux each time the next rib cracks.

“I hate that sound,” Emory comments as he holds Lux’s hand. “I, I can’t stand it.”

Lux gives a short jerking nod. “M-me too. ‘s okay if, if you don’t wanna h-hear i-it… g-, go ou-, go out to the - to the -“ Another ribs snaps, eliciting a raw and broken sound. “To, to the couch, ‘m okay, don’t h-have to… to stay…”

Another crack, another feeble scream, and then warmth at his cheek. Lux tips his head to lean into it, into the hand, and keens when a kiss is pressed to his other cheek. His eyes are closed against the onslaught of pain from the magic breaking his bones; his brows draw together at the soft, loving gesture. Another kiss is pressed to his forehead.

“I’ll stay with you, I’m right here. Keep breathing, Curls.”

Lux complies, forcing himself to draw a deep breath. His ribs crackle and creak, but the pain only spikes a bit.

“You really can’t heal them? Not even after a few days, when it’s stopped?”

“N-no, he, he’ll be a-angry… ‘s my punishment, ca-an’t heal it. ‘ll just break ‘em again.”

“How long do they take to heal?”

Another crack, not quite as loud but seemingly no less painful. Lux whines.

“Don’t rem-member… weeks? Mmmh, months, maybe? Nnnh, just gotta, gotta heal slow. No m-magic. Nnnnhh-!” A double break - crack, crack - steals his breath.

“Can’t someone help? Taryn, Anders? Protect you with magic?”

“Wa-ants to pun-nish me, he’d, he’d break them worse for g-, getting in th-the way. I, I, I don’t w-, don’t want an-nyone else to get h-hurt.”

Emory runs a hand along Lux’s arm - the one that wasn’t shattered and twisted and healed all in one day. He listens to Lux’s hesitant, ragged breathing, hitching in anticipation of the next rib to break. He thinks about the big, angry, powerful man that has always kept Lux in line with the threat of punishment and the brute strength to enforce his promises of coming pain. How Lux has survived this long, being the favorite of someone so sadistic.

The Hunter knows that Lux is a good listener, patient and attentive and earnest. He doesn’t have to reinforce lessons with pain, he didn’t have to break Lux to make him sweet. Even now, Lux wants to obey, wants to be sweet so no one gets angry with him - this punishment, these broken ribs, it’s not necessary. Just a show of power. It’s better than the mangled arm and the disjointed hip, though. Healing those injuries, even if this is the punishment, was worth it. Lux can walk, can move without giving a violent shudder and nearly passing out.

“Thank you for protecting me,” Emory mutters, suddenly overwhelmed by how much Lux has suffered today just to keep him completely unharmed. He wonders if Lux did that much for Colten, if that little kid heard screams like the ones forced out of Lux today. He wonders how many times you can hear yourself screaming before you lose your mind, how many times you can beg before you give up on people entirely.

It seems that the punishment is over for now; no more breaking bones. Lux sinks down in relief. “I know it was hard to w-watch. It’s a lot… I, I’d understand if you can’t take it.” He pauses, wheezes, winces as his ribs shift. “If you wanna - ‘f you want me to leave.”

“No! No, come on, Lux, I just, I’ve never… I’m not used to it. He’s… scary. I get how he affects you the way that he does.”

“Really scary,” Lux agrees. “Mmmnh… before I woke up, when you were, were tied up… did he hurt you? Or scare you? He m-, must’ve said something.”

Emory sits up, taking his time as he gathers his answer.

Lux is in the bedroom. He should be waking up from his nap soon - Emory can hear shuffling in there. From where he kneels on the floor, wrists bound in rope, he stares at the man standing beside the bedroom door, waiting to attack. The Hunter is going to scare Lux so bad, do everything that Lux hates - grab him, lean close, pin him down. Emory knows the Hunter has done it before; the man has put in a great deal of time learning how to scare Lux.

The door opens. Lux walks out, looking down as he tugs idly at the sleeves of his unzipped hoodie, not paying attention, not on guard, relaxed and feeling safe - the Hunter strikes, quick and efficient, grabbing Lux from behind and locking him in a chokehold. The sound of sneakers scuffing against the floorboards and Lux’s strangled, confused sounds make Emory’s heart hurt. He tries to rise up on his knees, to speak despite the gag between his teeth, as Lux makes eye contact with him, teeth gritted together in fear, brows furrowed, fingers curling around the arm crushing his throat. Emory watches Lux’s body give weak, fading spasms before it falls limp, arms falling to his sides and head lolling forward.

No, before that. Before Lux got there.

The silent struggle of being accosted as he got home, tied up and shoved to his knees on his own living room floor. The man towering over him with a smile, laying a hand on Emory’s shoulder as if holding him in place is a satisfying mark of ownership in itself.

“What do you-“ Emory frowns as the Hunter presses a finger to his own lips to gesture for him to be quiet. “What do you want?”

“Interesting first question. Not the most original. You know who I am, then?”

Feeling incensed and defiant, Emory calls on a vague memory of how Lux’s friends describe this man. “You’re the mindfucker,” He answers with clear hatred. And then, hoping to maybe elicit sympathy for his boyfriend, not yet harmed - “The one who gave Lux those nightmares. Scars.”

The Hunter beams. “Yes. Some of the nightmares, most of the scars. He’s a sweet boy.”

“Hey,” Emory growls, rising where he kneels. “You don’t talk about him like that.”

“Oh?” The man above him cocks his head to the side in mild intrigue. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. Not here. Not in our house. He’s not your - not your sweet boy. He’s a man, one who survived whatever your sick ass did to him, and he deserves respect. You’re not taking his dignity away with your creepy ownership kink or whatever.”

Emory almost regrets his outburst at the glint in the man’s eyes. Why is that fury contained? Does the Hunter need him alive? Unharmed, even? Emory was hoping to maybe catch a beating, draw some attention away from Lux, or even get Lux’s attention se he could try to get away.

“You wouldn’t understand,” The Hunter decides finally, glancing toward the door behind which Lux is temporarily safe. “He’s strong, yes. That’s why he’s survived so long, after all I’ve done to him. He’s the longest lasting little warlock I’ve kept. And always, always broken. You’ve seen it, I’m sure. The flinches, the flash of fear in his eyes, the stuttering. Always so sorry, so hesitant. Like he’s half afraid that he’ll be hit at any moment. It’s addictive to watch.”

“...Sick fuck,” Emory mutters, though his voice wavers, his wrists twisting in the ropes behind him. This guy is every bit as scary as Lux makes him sound.

The Hunter tuts in annoyance and summons a strip of cloth with a flick of his fingers; the cloth wraps itself around Emory’s head and wedges it between his teeth to serve as a gag.

A faint, squeaky yawn can be heard from the bedroom. The Hunter smiles again, sending a chill down Emory’s spine. Lux is awake.

“He didn’t hurt me,” Emory answers slowly. “Just… talked about you. In that awful way where it sounds like you’re his or something. Pissed me off.”

“You got a-angry with him?”

Angry, not pissed off. Word choice like that matters here - Lux needs him calm. “Yeah, angry with him. I told him off.”

“R-really?”

“Uh-huh. Did you ever do that?”

Lux hesitates before he nods slightly. “Used to.”

“Would you ever do it again?”

The warlock glances at Emory. He’s so tempted to say no, never, would get punished, ‘m not that bad - but something about knowing Emory was brave makes him want to give himself a bit more credit.

“Maybe,” He supposes. “If, if he was hurting someone who shouldn’t be hurt. I’d maybe f-fight, struggle… s-say things. It, it kinda hurts less, when you fight, ‘stead of just taking it. I li-, I liked being tough.”

“I bet you were real tough. I bet you still are! You just found a different way to get by, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Lux takes in a shaky sigh, holds it, and then lets it out slowly. “...Em, what if he breaks more ribs tomorrow? Or, or goes in my head? What if he keeps pun-nishing me?”

Leaning over - carefully, carefully - Emory meets Lux’s nervous eyes with all the determination he can find. “Then you’ll be tough.”

Something twinkles in Lux’s eye. “Can I cry if it hurts a lot, still?”

“Who said crying isn’t tough?”

“Wh-, what about, what about begging?”

“Do you do it on purpose? Do you choose to?”

“N-no.”

“Then it’s natural. Still tough.”

Lux’s eyebrows rise just a little. He can be tough - Emory says it, and it sounds true. Lux can be tough.

“Okay. I’ll be tough then.”

#whump #drabble #screaming #broken bones #protective #worry #lux #emory #mine #magic #punished #afraid #poor alex used up all his magic tryna fix lux's arm #hope he's okay!

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