#someone reads the absolute fuck out of ambrose
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I lowkey feel Ambrose's mind set and outcome could have been much different if he allowed himself to seek love from someone instead of shutting out every chance for love he has been offered and only seeing himself, his mind and body as materialistic value. Same goes with his family, I understand how little he must have felt but if he was more open with his acceptance for love and ability to show it back he'd realise how much he was valued and loved for every aspect of his existence. I can't help but sympathise with him. I feel I'm getting opinionated on his character but his death hurt me the most out of everyone's. I truly believed he had a real love for his family but his love was poisoned by envy and jealousy. I find the most upsetting part of his character is that if he got his way or not he'd still never be happy. If he got his way I feel the buzz of praise and control would wear off eventually and he'd realise it was all just performative. Yes, I know a kingdom can have a real love for their King but if you were to put them in a situation between picking a loved one or the King who would they pick? Maybe Ambrose, but that would be from loyalty, not love. Not REAL love. I'd give it a few months before he'd come down from the high and be left wondering why he hasn't been ticked off or put in a small wrestling match or debate quiz in a while. A few months before it wouldn't only be y/n who couldn't look him in the eye, but he couldn't look at her either. Her face a mosaic of their family blended into one.
I also can't avoid feeling sorrow for him because he really was just a boy who had yet to grow up. On the outside was a man but on the inside was just a boy. Kai is the one slagged the most for his childlike personality but it was always Ambrose that had it. His idea of masculinity was constantly being put on fire and constantly having to be rebuilt with fewer resources every time. It distracted him from the maturity and growth that comes with age. Keeping his feelings enclosed for so long must have spilt out and warped his mind and sadly that's what happens when our emotions bottle up and we feel we have no one to express that to. It's because of this I feel that at his breaking point, he'll go back into his childlike mentality and only then realise how dependent he was on his mom and dad. Only then will he realise he'll never get another hug from his mother or a well-needed lecture from his father. No brothers to seek advice from and mentally no sister to confide in. No family to lean on in times of dread like we all need. And he'd still keep this bottled up. He'd have no one to emotionally connect with on that level again. Maybe a wife but a wife will never be able to bring the love experienced from brothers. The type of love where you can kick and punch each other all you want but they'll still be there at the end of the day eating dinner with you and hold no grudge but love for you by the time the sun goes down. The cycle would only continue for him but this time he has no one to hurt. He got what he wanted and would be stuck in a lifetime of misery and fake smiles with the only thing filling his mind being guilt and sadness. I also believe this would make him realise the love he actually held for his brothers. Yes, I know Y/n was probably his favourite but sometimes when your glass of emotions fills too much it overflows and you are forced to sit there and analyse them even without realising or concentrating on it. That's when he'd find the real love he held for Kai and especially Elijah. The remorse he'd feel and the guilt of realising the love and compassion his older brother felt for him. He'd relive all the small moments. I think that another fault of Ambrose is he expects drastic acts of love that he forgets the real pieces of small everyday doings. He'd realise all the times Elijah probably noticed when a conversation was starting to get Ambrose agitated and would steer it away, all the times he probably realised during balls only he, Elijah was getting all the limelight and praise and would find a way to bring Ambrose's light of character into conversation. Sadly, his win would only make him lose as he'd realise all the real love he was once surrounded with, is now gone that he cold-bloodingly destroyed it. Never will the image of Elijah's lifeless eyes leave his brain or the images of his dead parents. He would only ever see Elijah's eyes before his death looking back to him in mirrors and his father's disappointment when he'd scrunch his brows or his mother's tears when he'd cry. Although he got his dream, he'd just as quickly want to reverse it. I think he'd either live a life of misery and guilt which would reflect onto his people, or end it himself.
I could say Ambrose is probably my favourite character in this story. His feelings are just so universally experienced and we all have probably once felt like an Ambrose. Whether that be with siblings, parents or friends. A lot of us have felt unwanted once and Ambrose embodies that and how its sadness can turn to envy.
As much as he has done bad I seriously just can't help but want to cry for him. He really is just a scared boy under his facade.
The saddest part, even with all the death and horror, I believe his family would still find a way to forgive him. If reincarnation existed in another universe and his loving family could be put in a room together one more time for just one day, I do believe that day would end in one big crying hug of guilt from all sides, and especially at the core of that hug, love.
I went a bit on but I just love his character so much and believe that none of this was his real dream and he never really got to find his real dream in the end. As much as he can be painted to be a monster I don't think his family could ever see that no matter what because the truth is deep down I don't believe he was. His story and life were sad and it's upsetting because he could have had a beautiful life if he stopped looking at how he was perceived by others and took a bit of inspiration and help from his siblings to find his true self. As much as we want to do stuff on our own i don't think he could find himself on his own and do believe with the accepted help from his siblings he could have found that :(
I just realised how long this is... I could have kept it to myself but wanted to kinda voice my opinion on his character because I find him the most interesting and complex!
wow, i’m honestly speechless right now. this is the first time someone has analyzed and truly broke down one of my characters before and it’s honestly sorta eye opening.
it’s always so strange to me how a fictional character i made up in my head can cause such emotional and personal understanding within someone. that they have the capability to reach the readers in ways that cause them to feel sad or empathetic for them.
ambrose personally is one of my favorite characters too. he was so much fun to write at the beginning and with time, the more deeper and complex his character became, i felt an overwhelming sadness when i was reminded of his evitable faith
i had ambrose’s plot line planned out from the first page and never intended for myself to get so attached to him, much less for readers to do the same
in my eyes, he’s extremely relatable. especially for people who grew up as a middle child and often feel overshadowed by their siblings or just in general
i agree that whether he got his way or not, he’d never be satisfied. the rose colored glasses would eventually fall and he’d see the world as it really is and come to terms with all he did to get to where he is
i believe that yn knew this too and that’s why she took it into her own hands to end that misery for him. she knew he was too far gone and that no matter what, he’d never be happy
#eldia#someone reads the absolute fuck out of ambrose#please please please send me more analysis of characters i’m so invested now
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Other Adamandi details that fuck me up
•Repeated lines about becoming one within A Little More in Love, this will come back to bite both of them in the ass
•Beatrix stating that students love the prize section and that if you can’t get permission ask for forgiveness. Vincent is obsessive over getting noticed, is very happy about being called out for murder on the front page, Portia is explicitly told not to say anything about Vincent’s murders, and later on Beatrix ends up on fighting Vincent while trying to apologize to them.
•Vincent’s slow progression into becoming Ambrose. First it’s the cardigan, then calling Beatrix Ms. Reporter, his tie is tied when he shows Quincy the article which he had never done up until that point, putting Ambrose’s jacket on, skinning his face and wearing it, and Ambrose’s ghost speaking in sync with them.
•Portia cuts one of Beatrix’s strings and Beatrix proceeds to forget about how many Phaethon nominees are left alive and let’s it slip to Portia
•Beatrix being a space cadet throughout the entire show, not even sure if that was intentional, just find it funny. Spacing out during I Me Myself and not hearing what Portia said, not noticing Portia trying to cut a string off till the scissors are in front of their face, being forgetful and needing the strings or they’ll fuck up. Their mind is not in the building lol
•Beatrix keeping their reporter hat in The Other Side Of Failure but swapping out the Ardess jacket for a regular green one. She was able to find a middle ground between being a reporter and not being obsessive over it.
•The choreography in Word To The Wise keeping Vincent out of sync with the ensemble, visually showing his separation from the group.
•Vincent losing respect for Beatrix as he becomes more like Ambrose, going from being friends and calling them by their name to calling them Ms. Reporter and being self obsessed in the same way Ambrose was. In their initial interactions Vincent and Beatrix were having an actual conversation, making jokes, being friendly. At the end Vincent is talking over her the same way Ambrose did during his interview.
•The visual story telling in how the red strings clash against blue strings on Beatrix’s gloves, and that whenever the lie it’s associated with gets brought up she starts fiddling with the string nervously.
•Quincy freaking out about someone being on Studdon hall when they can’t find Vincent after it being repeatedly implied that they were going to jump off when they met Vincent, making their mind go to the worst case scenario and rushing to the top.
•The fact you can see some of the saints in the wings of the theater before they fully come on stage.
•Saint Jude being silent, Quincy not being able to hear him and not hear any hope for hopeless causes.
•The absolute fuckery that is Vincent giving Ambrose hope for life then killing him, damn just rubbing salt in that wound.
•Vincent not having a part in Me Myself and I initially due to not being selfish like the others, then taking over Ambrose’s part when they kill him, the start of them becoming like Ambrose.
•Read All About it implying that Ardess has a suicide problem among its students and that’s why everyone’s so confused why it’s being made note of in the paper, and explaining why Quincy never seeked help for depression, Ardess having a very disapproving view on mental health struggles. It also explains why Beatrix was able to get help in the past for their issues, they would’ve been in high school during their mental health scare.
•Beatrix’s ghost writing coming back towards the end when they’re able to use Portia’s position as apart of Local News to ghost write an article under Portia’s name, their access to the records of previous winners combing it with Portia’s position. They succeed via working together, a stark contrast to Ardess’ mentality of doing it all on your own.
•The visual story telling of Beatrix having the key to the Prize Section around their neck, a constant reminder for the audience that they’re the only person who can get into it.
•Vincent’s time traveling Ronald Reagan patch. I like to think that they met one time and Vincent hated this random twenty something so much that he made the patch and sewed it on out of pure spite.
•The trolly car problem coming up in the beginning, later on each character being in some sort of trolly car problem. Vincent chooses to let more people die for selfish reasons, Quincy can’t make the self sacrificing choice in stopping Vincent, Beatrix justifies letting Vincent continue the killings with the fact they can help more people by winning and getting a higher position sacrificing the few for the sake of the many, and Portia believing that no matter what good could come out of Beatrix potentially winning that Vincent killing people is still wrong.
•Beatrix’s constant moral dilemma within the show, repeatedly second guessing herself, and the ways they do mental gymnastics to keep themself going. They are so good at lying and creating stories that they create one in their own mind to justify their actions, this being made note of during their section of Me Myself and I.
•Beatrix shown to respect their grandmother a lot, and complimenting Portia by saying that their grandmother would like her, and Portia in the end helping Beatrix realign their moral compass because she has her priorities straight.
•Something I find funny, Beatrix always being quick on their feet for a lie to keep their plan steady but their mental processing slows to that of a floppy disk when romance gets brought up cause she’s been so married to her work that they haven’t even processed that they like girls yet lol
•Vincent being able to relate to Ambrose due to both being trans, Vincent allowing themself to be non traditionally masculine, while Ambrose is obsessed with the idea of it.
•Beatrix being the one to announce Ambrose’s suicide, presumably having been the one to ghost write the article, but not actually singing with the ensemble cause they know/suspect that Vincent was the killer.
•The admin interacting with Beatrix directly to give them things to read out, a visual show that they’re being manipulated by the admin.
•Ambrose’s makeup in the second act being a visualization of Vincent having made him geometric, later on cutting the lines to slice Ambrose’s face off. Originally may have been for Ambrose to chisel the points to smoothness, instead used for Vincent’s own motivations.
•The mis-en-scène having marble sculptures placed atop the center archway as foreshadowing to Ambrose’s fate.
•The repeated eye motifs in the background to emphasize the feeling of constant watching, that no matter where someone is or what they’re doing, they’re always being watched.
•The drawings on the chalk boards having some nice details, it’s fun trying to figure out who would’ve drawn each of them within the context of the story. A lot of them probably were Vincent, the saint was most likely Quincy, and that one about pulling strings feels like Beatrix being petty.
•Towards the end of Oh, Ms Reporter! Vincent says he wants to douse it in gasoline, later creating an entire fucking pyre
•Beatrix smoking when they’re at their worst, changing their personality for Ardess, tricking Vincent, trying to convince Portia to let the murders go. They’re also smoking with Vincent, symbolically passing on their worst attributes to him and poisoning them.
•Beatrix putting their cigarette out on their desk during Ghost Writer when they reveal that they want to do good and that’s what they’ve been using to justify their actions, along with putting it out when they’re questioning if they should trick Vincent. The cigarette goes out when her better attributes start showing.
•The fun bit of costume design used to achieved Beatrix’s strings and Quincy’s bandages, both using gloves to prevent them from falling off. It’s so simple but cleaver.
•Repeated halo imagery used for Quincy and their steady descent into religious fanaticism.
•Ambrose handing Vincent a table leg to swing at Beatrix during their fight, making sure that the blow would be fatal, unlike how a scalpel swing would just maim.
•Beatrix worrying that Vincent might kill someone or die in an awful fight during Me Myself and I, Vincent does both.
•The show of how each of the main trio’s morality shift through the show with how, in the end, Vincent and Quincy still want the prize while Beatrix rejects it outright.
•Quincy repeatedly using sunlight as a metaphor for happiness, but Portia and Beatrix being the ones who get to wake up next to each other under sunlight, while Vincent and Quincy lose that.
•Vincent not having any jacket when their ghost comes on stage during The Other Side of Failure, returning to how they started the show, finding peace even if it’s just the memory Quincy has of him. The good parts of Vincent, not tainted by Ardess. Quincy and Vincent’s relationship is at its best during that moment, neither having their Ardess jackets.
•Vincent throws away the wax Quincy is holding during The Other Side of Failure, just like how the real Vincent would’ve wanted it.
#adamandi#beatrix valeria campbell#vincent aurelius lin#quincy cynthius martin#ambrose bassford#portia harper
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Hii I really like your writing, anyway can I maybe get some head cannons for the Sinclair brothers and Otis (if that’s not gonna be too much) with a boyfriend who writes short horror stories and stuff? Thank youuuuu <3
Of course you can sweet anon! These are some of my first headcannons ever so i hope you enjoy!
Bo Sinclair:
-Bo thinks it's cool don't get me wrong, But he's a busy guy so don't expect him to go out of his way.
-He thinks of it like Vincent's wax figures, It's your art.
-If you need a proof reader for anything expect to be pointed in the direction of Vincent or even Lester (Probably not lol), Bo finished school but he isn't the smartest when it comes to grammar.
-Make him the main character, He'll be absolutely honored despite him trying to cover up his blush.
-If one of your stories every gets published, He will be SO proud of you!
-"That's my boy, People are finally startin' to recognize how talented ya' are."
Vincent Sinclair:
-Proud Vincent is proud.
-He wants to hear ALL about your stories, what's your inspiration?, Who are your main characters?, anything and everything he can ask he asks.
-Be prepared to be stationed in a chair next to him to read him your stories while he works on sculptures.
-He will for sure proofread, edit and help you with whatever you need, English was one of his best subjects in school. Writing was one of his main mediums before wax.
-He will do everything in his power to help you get published, Going as far to convince Bo to get some kind of internet connection to help you go digital.
Lester Sinclair:
-Our sweet baby boy, Bless his heart
-Lester doesn't really understand how someone can sit still and write stories for that long, but if it makes you happy he's all for it!
-Lester will try his best to help you with editing and all, but this sweet boy can't really spell well himself so don't be surprised if you get your story back with various misspellings.
-Lester loves to sit and listen to your stories! (As long as your the one who reads, Lester can read, but has the tendency to get hung up on the bigger words)
-"That there is the best story I've ever heard!"
-Lester will totally jump through hoops to get you whatever you need in his cabin, Internet? A room specifically for writing? done and done, whatever you need Lester is on it.
-If your books ever had hardcopies that have been published, don't be surprised if you find out Lester has been trying to sneak them into the Ambrose local library much to Bo's annoyance.
-"Dammit Lester! Stop tryin' to fuck up the book order"
Otis Driftwood:
-Otis thinks is rad as hell, I mean c'mon, Otis is a story teller and a half and ADORES anything spooky.
-If he likes your stories well enough, Don't be surprised if he tells them to stranded soon to be victims over dinner after he's recounted the classic tale of Dr. Satan.
-You don't have to worry about getting your books published, Otis will do that for you! He loves leatherworking and will totally make you the best book covers and bind the pages together. (Leather may or may not be human, Heh)
-Also do not be surprised if Otis reads them to the family sometimes, He will have weekly book clubs just for your stories.
-This is another boy your gonna wanna make the main character, Otis would LOVE to read a book about HIMSELF of all people. He would see it as arguably his greatest accomplishment.
#otis driftwood#otis driftwood x reader#house of 1000 corpses#slasher fandom#slasher x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#lester sinclair#lester sinclair x reader#house of wax 2005#house of wax
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Can I be petty for a second?
So, I finished reading The Darkness Outside Us, and as I was looking for some video essays on it, I found one where someone didn't like a specific scene of the book, so here are my two cents about it.
The scene this video references is the one right after Ambrose and Kodiak have sex for the first time and they talk about top and bottom dynamics, and how they got into the ship thinking they were tops (because that's the only role they ever played), but now they're okay with the idea of being verse.
In this video the person says this scene is contraproductive, not normbreaking and fetishization. They're disappointed that both of them are tops and that Ambrose, which is the smaller, softer one, was the first one to bottom, saying that it falls into a norm. And honestly? I don't see a problem with that. The whole deal of having the freedom to express your sexuality is so that you can decide if you want to have vanilla sex or not, and if you end up falling into an unharmful stereotype, that's okay as long as it's safe and both you and your partner are okay with it.
I don't see people getting disappointed with straight romance because the woman didn't peg her partner to prove she's not lesser than him, so why are we expecting a queer author to make a statement out of queer sex? Ambrose and Kodiak entered the ship as two fuckboys who always topped, but as soon as they fall in love, have sex and open up to each other they both say that they're okay with bottoming sometimes, even Kodiak says so! You know, the super masculine guy who came from a very conservative place that would make fun of him for wanting to bottom? Yeah, even him is comfortable enough to explore new things with his boyfriend, so how can you say that this scene is not normbreaking?
And what if the softer one was exclusively a bottom and the muscular one was exclusively a top? Queer people don't need to make a revolutionary take on sex every time they fuck, existing in a queer relationship is already a political statement by itself!
I would have a problem with this scene if Kodiak or Ambrose made fun of/humiliated each other for wanting to bottom, but that never happens, they actually are very supportive and happy to discover these things together in the future.
The youtuber also say this scene is fetishization because it's only purpose it's to ease the mind of people who think they're entitled to know who is the top and bottom of the relationship, and though I agree this is disgusting behavior, I don't think this was the purpose of this scene. Through the whole book we see Ambrose talking about how horny he is for Kodiak, because he's a teenager, so it's no surprise for them to be open about their sexual history with each other after falling in love and realizing they're in danger. They use intimacy as a way to ground each other in this stressful situation.
The purpose is to show how comfortable they are to build intimacy, to communicate their needs and try to build a dynamic that works for them. It's about growth, love, and most of all, it's supposed to be funny. From Federation's stupid "donating" and "welcoming" terminology, to them turning their aftercare into a political debate about the power dynamics and heteronormativity of sex roles, to the "two tops go to space" joke, to Kodiak saying they should make a schedule so they could fuck five times a day: It was so fucking stupid and funny, and I absolutely loved it!
But honestly, that's just my personal take, so no hate to the youtuber or anyone who disagrees, you do you, babes!
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May I request some Bo content? With a female S/O who is usually very chipper and warm suddenly having a very bad day and shutting down and lashing out? Like the S/O is usually all over town helping out with chores and bringing the boys meals while they work, but something throws them through a loop and they end up not doing any if the things they usually do and Bo doesn’t notice at first?
Hi, Bobbie!!🥺🌸 hhhh you absolutely can have some Bo content, oml??? I can’t get enough of the Sinclairs hhhhhh🥺🙏 This was really fun to write and I had a lot of fun with the concept! Thank you for requesting; it went in a slightly different direction than what you asked for but I hope you enjoy it anyway!!💗
Also, I worked on this piece pretty solidly for an entire day and it got to the point where I couldn’t see the forest for the trees, so a massive thank you to @arianatheangelworld for reading this over for me to tell me if I got the characterisation of Bo right, and to check for plot inconsistencies. With her approval and keen eye, this piece is finally ready to be shared with a wider audience hasdfghjkl this is one of my favourite pieces as a conflict-averse person (you can thank trauma for that lmfao); it was fun to write!💜
TW; SWEARING, reader’s a bit of an asshole (you’re not responsible for your feelings but you are responsible for how you deal with them and reader is not very mature in this piece - we all have those days, and that’s okay so long as you apologise after and learn from it!) & picks a fight with Bo, Bo gives as good as he gets, Bo’s a bit manipulative, ARGUING BETWEEN BO AND READER (a wrench is thrown but NOT AT THE READER), CRYING (reader), Bo stepping up when he realises what’s happening (FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF because I’m soft for the Sinclairs and I’m not sorry), ELEMENTS OF AN UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP (it’s Bo, duh), there are MENTIONS OF FOOD (not sure if this one needs to be on a trigger list, but I’m putting it on here just in case), one sentence about a dead person being in Hell from a religious/monotheistic perspective (it doesn’t bother me any because I'm a firm atheist, but I realised that it could negatively affect someone else so for that reason I'm putting it on the list), implications of Stockholm Syndrome BUT THAT WASN'T MY INTENTION WHILE WRITING IT!!! It's just an afterthought to put it on here before I post it in case it upsets someone.
My trigger lists are always so long omg I'm sorry I just never want to upset anyone so I probably go overboard??? Would appreciate feedback on this!!!💖
As always, GN!reader, no coded language (to the best of my knowledge; please correct me if you see something I haven’t noticed!), “you” and Y/N used.
Word count: 4,101 (another short one😩)
BO STOP BEING SO PRETTY OMGGGG🥺🥺🥺😍😍😍
It was just one of those days in which nothing was going right and everything that could be going wrong was, and everything was pissing you off. Ambrose and every fucking thing in it was out to get you, it seemed, and just as you usually did when you were having a bad day, you shut off from everyone and just barely restrained yourself from lashing out at anyone who even breathed in the same area as you. You just kept yourself to yourself, not doing anything the way you usually did. You knew that no one would ever let you not maintain your duties and responsibilities, such as they were. Only once had you not followed through on them, and you had discovered quite quickly that Vincent wasn't above using scare tactics, such as looming over you in such a way that you knew you had no choice but to comply if you wanted him to step out of your personal space.
It was a subtle reminder that you would either end up back in Bo’s disgusting chair, or dumped at Vincent’s stairs if you got too comfortable in their town. That had been in the very early days of your initially forced residency in the ghost town of Ambrose (but, oh, how alive was she on the surface until one dared to scratch at the polished and carefully cultivated veneer). Months had passed since then, and scare tactics from the brothers were no longer used. You could be trusted to do the things you usually did, and indeed did you usually enjoy them. You adored helping the brothers, you loved doing things for them, knowing all the while that they cherished you just as much and, in their own ways, they did things for you as well.
Bo had been, of course, the hardest brother to form a connection with. He was brash, rude, abrupt, an absolute asshole and you loved him for that, among a great deal of other things. As your relationship had gone from captor and the captive to a tepid friendship and then further had the two of you warmed up to each other into the intense romantic bond which you now greatly enjoyed, Bo had stopped being quite so rude. Indeed, his displays of love and affection were quiet but copious, as if he was trying to make up for how he had treated you before he had even known your name. Once you had learned to read Bo’s love language (one of which was asking you to spend time with him in the garage; he loved having you around, though he didn’t tell you in as many words), you came to understand that he was as much of an asshole as he was full of love. Aching was he to both give and to receive love in kind; starved of it and of a gentle touch for thirty some years.
Once Vincent had seen you and Bo interact, he, too, had made more of a concerted effort to take care of you and to do things for you. He had sculpted you and Bo, once, and gifted it to you by leaving it on your bedside table. There had been no note, no signature or anything to denote that it came from Vincent, but you knew all the same. You knew every detail of his particular form of craftsmanship. You had thanked him profusely, both in words and by making him his favourite meal the next day for dinner, prepared just as he liked it. Lester had been the easiest to form a friendship with, and indeed was he the one you went to when things with Bo were too much for you, or when you itched to see different sights but you didn’t want to leave Ambrose. On those days did you go with him to work, wanting to spend time with him. It always gave you a sick thrill to leave Ambrose, but you would always choose again and again and again to return. Where else could you go, would you go, when home contained the one you loved the very most?
Ambrose was your home, Bo was your home, and you loved doing your part to help run the town, to help Vincent with his supplies and wax stock, to help Lester with his job, to maintain your own hobbies because you existed as your own person and you were not wholly defined by anyone else. You had thrown yourself into the life Bo had set out for you (and, oh, how you had fought him on it, until one day you had caught yourself excited to face the next day), and you cherished every moment you got to spend with any of the brothers, but especially with Bo. You were warm towards all three of them, and they were equally so with you. It was the way of things, and you didn’t want it, you didn’t want them, any other way. But today, oh... something bad had happened, it had thrown you for such a loop that you could no longer tell what way was up and what way was down, and you were steaming; pissed off, irritated, and emotionally shutting off. The chores would be done, but you wouldn’t be focusing on them. Food would be made, but it would be a heartless chore with little thought beyond making sure you didn’t poison anyone and that it tasted good. Your hobbies would be left unattended in favour of helping Bo in the garage, in favour of helping Vincent with anything he needed, in favour of riding with Lester for a bit to keep him company. You sighed, pissed off that you didn’t have a choice. You just wanted to hole up in your bedroom and lay there, left to rot as you stared up at the ceiling. But you couldn’t. There were things to do, people to see, and a life to live despite the fact that you were not having a good time of it.
The world could fucking burn for all you cared today.
To begin with, Bo didn’t notice that anything was amiss. How could he, when he was elbows deep in the hood of his truck, swearing under his breath about who knew what? You had done very little of what was on your to-do list for the day; you had made meals for everyone including yourself and made the relevant ‘deliveries’; taking Vincent’s down to him first because he was the closest (he hadn’t let you go until you had promised him that you had your own food, too; his form of affection towards you was a tough kind of love which you knew he used on Bo as well, which was partly why you adored it so much), then Lester’s, and then you had taken yours and Bo’s down to the garage so that you could have a lunch date together. You had packed a clean towel with soap and a flask of hot water because you knew Bo wasn’t going to wash his hands. It never failed to turn your stomach when he ate with dirty hands, grease stains left behind on the bread he had yet to eat. His constitution was one of iron and you almost envied how strong his immune system must have been after a lifetime of exposure to various things which would make the average person sick. Almost. The only other thing you had really done this day was to clean up the kitchen after you had made the food and delivered Vincent’s and Lester’s. Everything else hadn’t even been thought about. You wanted, more than anything, to not do a damned thing.
It was only when you made more noise than was strictly necessary when delivering his lunch that Bo straightened up, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. His baseball cap physically shielded his eyes from you but you could sense his gaze and your mind’s eye supplied the look you knew you would be seeing if he wasn’t wearing his hat. “Lunch.” Your tone was flat, and Bo’s entire stance changed. He stiffened, and you began to see the side of Bo you only saw when there were tourists in town. Quickly were you walking on thin fucking ice, and, help you, but it thrilled you as much as it made you want to run away. But, you were looking for a fight... if you carried on this way, you would get one, too. One of the things you loved about Bo was that he always gave as good as he got and then some, no matter what it was.
He fixed you with a level gaze and then, “Wanna try that in a different tone, darlin’?” A warning - your first and your only. Bo would never give you an out twice in a row. With Bo, once was more than enough. He always took things and ran with ‘em... his cruel, brutal upbringing and later life had taught him to never question anything, to just take them as they came from one moment to the next. Bo craved that which he had lacked in his life before you, and security was one of them. Seeing you like this had thrown Bo off edge, just as something had clearly done the same to you, and Bo didn’t know what to do when you were like this. Vincent was good at calming people down after a lifetime of living with Bo, but Vincent was presumably holed up in the basement, so asking his twin to do some de-escalation was out of the question. A warning, first, had been suitable... He would have to follow your lead on the rest of it. What could Bo do to help you the way you always helped him? He had to figure it out, quickly, because his sunshine was behind some clouds and he didn’t know how to make it rain, so that the sun would come back out. Wait... As quickly as Bo had lost his footing, he found it again, a predator was he. You wanted a fight? He’d give you one. And then he would bring you back home to him. It was sly, manipulative of him, but an outlet was what you needed, and Bo was great at that. He threw tantrums every fuckin’ day. You were entitled to one too, he figured, especially if something bad had happened. But what?
“No,” You shrugged, settling down to get your own food. “Eat if you want. I brought some hot water, soap and a clean towel for you to wash your hands.” The inflection in your voice on this last three words brought a sneer to Bo’s face but he turned away from you, recognising all the signs in you that he saw in himself every damn day. You were angry and Bo wondered what the fuck had happened to you. He hadn’t seen you much this day, so busy had he been, but now that you were with him, it was clear that something was up. He hadn’t seen you like this often, usually so happy and warm with him that it made his heart ache were you, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation. If you wanted a fuckin’ fight, though, he’d give you one. Anythin’ for his darlin’, even when they were being rude. Idly, Bo wondered if this was how you felt when he was being an ass, but he shook that thought off. It didn’t fuckin’ matter, anyway. He had already tried pushing you away, but you had stuck to him like glue. Bo loved it as much as he hated it, which created such a passion within him that it left the both of you breathless even during the best of days together.
“Okay,” Bo shrugged you off, acting like he wasn’t getting as pissed off as he was also growing concerned, “I’ll eat wit’ ya’ in a minute. Let me clean myself first. I’m too dirty to have lunch wit’ ya, is that it?“ He grabbed the flask, soap and towel from the counter where you had set them next to his lunch, and the look he gave you told you everything on his mind. When he came back from washing his hands, leaving everything on the sink for you to clean up later, he made his way back to his truck, “Hey, uh, pass me that wrench, would’ya?” and got busy again, fiddling with... whatever he was doing. He looked up at you around the hood, watching you. Analysing you. He was getting mighty pissed off with you, but he was trying to hold his temper down. He knew he had a nasty one... it was turning out that you did, as well. We’re a match made in Hell, momma. Maybe we’ll see you down there some day. I know you ain’t gone up.
You rolled your eyes before you could stop yourself, which made Bo’s jaw tick in irritation. You did as he asked, again, almost slapping the tool into the outstretched palm of his hand before you went back to what you were doing. God, but today you really hated the way you did what he asked of you, even and especially when you didn’t want to. You just loved him so much and it came through in everything. Christ, you were even pissing yourself off. You waited for the thank you that you knew wasn’t going to come - Bo had always said such things with his actions, but today it just fucked you off even more instead of making you smile - so you sarcastically said, “Thanks, Y/N. You’re welcome.” The first two words were spoken in a lower octave, mocking Bo’s own voice. Your poor imitation made you smirk as you found it funny in some sick way, but for all of his careful planning, Bo exploded as his temper flared up in an instant; the wrench hitting the wall farthest from you as he launched the tool. It made a thunderous noise, so much so that you almost wanted to put your hands over your ears. A part of you enjoyed the audible chaos. You wanted more, even as you recognised that Bo, in his rage, would still never hurt you. It calmed you down as much as it pissed you off.
“What is the matter wit’ you?” Bo yelled, finally losing his already short patience with you and this entire fucking ridiculous situation. You were usually so warm and happy, the only real fucking light in Ambrose. Anger was a secondary emotion which usually disguised pain and or fear, and Bo was feeling the latter. Did you want to leave Ambrose, leave him? So when faced with an uncomfortable emotion, Bo, too, lashed out, and you realised even in the haze of irritation and sadness that if this carried on, you and Bo were going to devolve into a screaming match. Good. That was what you wanted. Wasn’t much else to do around Ambrose.
“Fuck if I know. I don’t want to do any of this shit.” You threw the to do list at Bo, as if to make a point that it was too much of a demand on you this day, but even with your sharp aim did the paper only flutter pathetically to the floor. If this had been any other situation, you would have laughed at the absurdity of it all. You were fighting off laughter as it was - a panic response. You’d finally managed to piss Bo off, and in a sick way, that had been what you had wanted. Bo gave as good as he got, and it never failed to send a cold chill of anticipation up your back. You loved riling him up; it was the hottest fucking thing and the most dangerous, but it was too late now.
“So this bullshit attitude of yours is all because ya’ don’t wanna pull ya’ weight ‘round here, that it? S’not like ya’ fuckin’ do that anyway.” Bo’s tone was biting, his baby blues like ice, his tongue cutting into you like a blade. You thought you would have preferred an actual knife... it would have hurt you much less than the venom radiating off of Bo.
You scoffed, “Fuck off, Bo! You know as well as I do that I always do things around the town, helping you out and making sure everyone eats and every fucking other thing. I pull my own weight just fine. That’s not even the fucking issue here, I just - “ You felt stinging behind your eyes and nose, and your hands flew to your face, hiding yourself from Bo and distancing yourself from the situation. You wanted to leave, to let yourself and Bo simmer in the tense situation you had created just by letting yourself lash out (and, oh, how you knew better than that), but more than that, oh, more than that, you wanted to stay. You wanted Bo to see you in your rage and in your upset, and you wanted him to help you. Fuck knew if you knew how to help you. You were beyond yourself and you needed Bo. You needed him. It was this realisation which brought your hands away from your face, catching a look of fondness,slight amusement (he did love a good fight, especially when he was in the thick of it) and concern on Bo’s face which vanished as quickly as you had seen it. It was something he hadn’t meant for you to see. It was almost funny in its own way, how much the two of you danced around each other, even in a committed relationship. All the fight left you in a single moment as you had finally, finally burned yourself out. You didn’t have any more energy to give to your emotions this day. You sighed, and the sound was so weighted in all that was unsaid that it only upset you more, and tears fell hot and fast down your face as you broke right in front of Bo. The one you loved the very most.
"I'm sorry, I - " Your voice was barely audible even with the great acoustics which the garage afforded. You dropped to your knees, everything you were feeling from what had happened to cause this in the first place as well as your lack of sleep from the night before was just too much to take. Your body couldn't hold you up anymore and you sunk to the floor, sobbing without a care for the way you had deliberately wound Bo up just to vent your emotions, for the way you had neglected your duties this day, for the way you had just broken in front of the man who loved you, it was true, but he was not the best one when it came to handling emotions. You cried, your tears hot, fast, heavy as they crashed around you. Oh, but it hurt and as a part of you enjoyed it - the sweet release of emotions - a part of you was only more upset and it created a cycle from which you could not escape by yourself. When you hit the very bottom, the only way to go was up, but what if there was more underneath? Even in your rapidly worsening state, you were wise enough to know that you couldn't handle yourself anymore.
You. Needed. Bo.
He had always been able to do for you things which no one else could.
"I'm sorry, I just - "
Boots slowly, carefully, came into your view, and Bo ducked down so that he could look at you fully. He balanced on the balls of his feet, his cap dangling lightly from a finger on his right hand as he watched you. His blue eyes had melted from the ice you had just seen into a warm pool of blue which only made you cry harder. You watched his eyes widen in surprise, worry, and then Bo cleared his throat, "Ya' gotta breathe, darlin'. Take a deep breath now, you're all right. Ain't gonna' hurt'cha." His left hand reached out for your shoulder but then he hesitated, as if he didn't know if you wanted to be touched or not. He wasn't wary of you but of the situation. Either way, it broke your heart to realise that you had done this. Whatever this was.
"Bo, please." More tears slipped down your cheeks as Bo's hand continued to hover in the air between you, but something in your voice made Bo snap. Somehow, somehow, he managed to grab you and pull you into his lap, sitting with his legs outstretched in front of him with you plopped right in the middle. His arms and legs alike locked around you, the safest cage you had ever been in, and he rocked you back and forth slowly.
"Shush, darlin', you're all right. Bo's got'cha. You're all right." Bo pressed kisses all over the side of your face, his lips trembling and his shoulder shaking with worry, concern, adrenaline, rage. He continued to whisper sweet nothings and feather kisses all over the side of your face which he could reach, doing everything he could to soothe you. He knew not what the matter was, he knew not what had happened to you, but he recognised all the signs of a break in you - he felt them in himself every single day - and he didn't want for you to go through it alone.
At some point, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself into Bo, wanting to sink into him. Today could just get fucked. You had Bo now, and he was all you wanted. "I'm sorry, Bo. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Bo listened in a solemn silence to your repetitive apologies. He recognised that perhaps you were going to relapse into tears again, and he didn't want to have to deal with that. Not because he didn't love you, because he did, but because you had only just begun to calm down and he didn't want to tip you over the edge again. Especially if you were the one throwing yourself over. "Hey, hey. No more tears, darlin'. No more. Y're all right." Arms tightened around you, lips pursed against the curve of your cheek. "Now, you wanna tell me sumthin'?"
The literal floodgates had opened, and so too did the verbal ones as you told Bo everything. Everything that had happened to upset you so, everything you had been feeling, everything you had been thinking... You told Bo everything. His trembling grew as did his rage, but he took slow, measured breaths, doing his best to hold his temper in place as he listened to you. If it killed him, Bo would solve your problems. If it was something to actively work on, he would support you. If it was a person, he would enlist his brothers' help to lure them to Ambrose so he could kill 'em and chuck 'em in the roadkill pit; they didn't deserve to be immortalised because they had done this to you. His brothers would both agree. Whatever it was, Bo would do whatever it took to help you, consequences be damned.
"Shit, darlin'," Bo sounded breathless when you were finished, and you burrowed into him, wanting to disappear from the world and into Bo. He would protect you, keep you safe and secure. It was all you wanted. "I wondered why ya' started actin' all crazy like that. Figured you wanted a fight for the helluv'it, but - " Bo shook his head. He'd never been good at words. That was more Vincent's forte, which was ironic given how he was mute.
"I'm sorry, I - "
Bo's arms flexed around you and he shook his head again, one hand moving so that he could cup one of your cheeks. "No more o'that, Y/N. It's done, forgotten. Don't matter no more. I ain't mad. I was," Bo chuckled wryly, "I was pissed as all hell, but I can't be knowin' what I know now." His other hand came up so that the calloused pads of his thumbs could wipe all of your tears away, and he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead to signify that he was there, that he loved you, that you would be okay.
Bo would make sure of it.
#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair imagine#bo sinclair comfort#house of wax#house of wax imagine#house of wax x reader#slashers#slasher fic#slasher x reader#slasher community
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Sinclair Brother's with a Writer S/O
Bo Sinclair:
*Gaston of the Slashers...There's no pictures. How can you read this? 🤨*
If you're busy writing when he's busy working in the garage then that's fine. But you cannot be writing when he's not busy without him bitching about you being on that damned typewriter too much. (No internet in ambrose so he got out one of his Dad's old typewriters for you.)
Gets you plenty of paper and ink when he goes out of town. He loves seeing you go from sulking and trying to write things down by hand to absolutely beaming when he comes home and hands it over to you... You owe him a kiss for the effort though.
He doesn't read for pleasure. Ever. He hated it as a kid, he hates it now. So, he truly doesn't understand why you stay up all hours to write; especially if you're not a published author. If it ain't making no damn money then what's the point????
HOWEVER he is very controlling and pushy. He has to know everything. Including what you're writing about. (Secretly, he is just extremely curious about what goes on in his honey's mind but he can't be too mushy about it)
Is confused when you get bashful and refuse to let him read even one page. "Come on, darlin! Jus lemme read it. It's goin t' waste jus sittin there."
He stole a finished page from your stack and shoved you away with one hand as he read it aloud. At first, he just smirked, ready to make fun of it or call it cute just to annoy you until he read a few paragraphs. His face fell and he was genuinely surprised at himself getting suckered into the story; trailing off to read the rest silently. Plays it off as if it's 'okay to decent. Needs work.'....You know better as he subtly picks up the next page to read it when he thinks you're not looking.
Will pluck a finished page right out of the typewriter as your busy typing the next one. He drinks a beer in the living room and slowly reads it as you go. (He's not the fastest reader so it's plenty of time for him to catch up)
Will absolutely NEVER, EVER let you live it down if you write a smut scene and he finds out. He is smirking, leaning over you, turned on from what he just read and looking to use it for inspiration. "Shit, babydoll. If ya wanted me t' do all that; ya could've jus asked."
He doesn't overly hype you up in private. In fact, he makes fun of you and calls you a bookworm or fuckin nerd or anything else he would call the kids with A's in Highschool but he doesn't hesitate to let OTHER people know you're a writer he's proud of. Tourist mentions any book they instantly hear; "Oh yeah? S'no better than what mine writes. My babydolls got real talent. Fucking gifted."
If he's in a sour mood, the tapping of your keys has him bristling. But it's become a familiar sound. Whenever you're not feeling well or depressed and he doesn't hear that typewriter clicking; he finds himself missing it.
He is envious. Both you and his brother being creative types with talent while he doesn't have any of it. His insecurities just can't help making him feel like the lesser brother and now his partner is better at something than he is too. It doesn't help his Dad was a doctor so you knowing so many subjects as well as typing late at night on his Dad's typewriter reminds him of the Dad he was never good enough for that would just type away instead of talking to him. It's all just a giant spit in his face. (You reassure him all the time that tinkering and fixing things is a talent but he huffs that it's 'jus' work'. )
You wrote him a letter describing everything you admire about him after a particular bad day where he let it slip out how annoyed he was having two 'gifted assholes' in the house...
He definitely read it in his garage and teared up. Absolutely shocked and touched in an unfamiliar way at having someone go into so much detail about him...Good things! Not comparing him to Vincent; just highlighting things about himself he had never had anyone praise him for. Pocketing it in his locked drawer to read on days he needed the reminder that no matter what he thought about himself from his parents; you thought differently...You were still a a cute lil nerd he teased but you were HIS cute nerd.
Lester Sinclair:
He can't read very well. Books weren't read often at home by his parents even though his Dad was a doctor. Lester and Bo were shoved aside in favor of Vincent. Bo got attention in a negative way as the black sheep, Vincent had to be perfect at everything as the golden child or else while Lester was kind of just...There. He barely passed schooling. He didn't hate reading like Bo, just wasn't very good at it. (May even have dyslexia but 70's hick schools just called it being dumb so he just grew up thinking he wasn't smart enough to read. :c )
He watches you writing with a pen and paper as you ride in his truck. He seriously considers saving up any money he gets from roadkill pelts to buy you a decent typewriter to have at your house on the outskirts of Ambrose. He didn't much like being involved in the whole wax town thing but he didn't stop it or care to either. He secretly was glad to have you and him in a house in the woods; just the two of you.
You almost think he's not interested in your writing when you noticed he never asks to read it. It comes out one day that he can't read it. Words here and there but nothing to truly enjoy the experience.
Despite your shyness over someone you personally know reading your own work; you decide to offer to read it to him.
He absolutely loves it. He just smiles and leans against you as you read aloud to him. It quickly becomes a peaceful bonding time for you both.
"Hey, how's bout you read me another?" He nudged you with a smirk as he drove down the road and you curled up beside him to read aloud. "Don't you wanna listen to the radio instead?" He shook his head. "Nah. not as good as yer writing."
He is your biggest fan, bugging the ever loving shit out of you for an update. He has to know what happens next! He needs to! Does the dog die? Does the kid die? WHAT HAPPENS?
Encourages you to publish but you wave it off. Not only would Bo probably not like the extra publicity to Ambrose but it wasn't the reason you wrote. You write because you enjoy it.
You offer to help him with reading like his mom and dad should have. It's never wonderful but you smile proudly when he made a full paragraph without stopping.
Vincent Sinclair:
Unlike his twin, he fully understands when you get in the zone and write for hours. He does the same thing with his sculptures. He doesn't take it personally if he's finished while you're still writing.
He bugged Bo to find their Dad's typewriter. Bo bitched the entire time but finally found it after you complained of your hand hurting from pen and paper.
Unlike his brothers, Vincent was taught to read and write and was given the extra mile to make sure he would be the families pride and joy. It wasn't his fault and came with having to be obedient at all times least his punishments be even worse than his brothers. They expected Bo to rage but not Vincent. They would yell at Bo but if Vincent showed any disagreement...It was like the whole unit was going to fall apart. He reclused himself because of it and took up his creative pursuits as a way to distract himself.
If he finds you passed out over the typewriter, he will pick you up and haul you to bed. He starts tapping on your shoulder to let you know you've been at it too long and to take a break.
Doesn't pressure to read your work even though he really wants to. You almost feel insecure of another creative reading and possibly judging your work but you realize it's Vincent and he wouldn't judge you.
He spends his time reading your finished work one afternoon. You find it neatly organized on your desk and a typed out page he wrote describing how much he enjoyed it and how talented you were.
He will sit and watch you pace the room and describe plot ideas out loud. He just nods in agreement as you pretty much just rant to yourself to connect the dots while he watches.
Subtly puts a manuscript of your work in the gas station for tourist to read. Just because he truly thinks you're way to hard on yourself and others would love your writing.
He hangs up poems and letters you write him all over his wall.
#bo sinclair#Not only am i a writer and i have fam with dyslexia but I have been both the GC and BS of a toxic family#so this was very self indulgent for sure#vincent sinclair#lester sinclair#bo sinclair imagine#sinclair brothers#how 2005#HoW#HoW hc#how imagine#how hc#how headcanon#house of wax 2005#HoW imagine
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I think their group chat is a known thing to you, they have one with just the brothers and then one with you and them in case someone wonders into Ambrose or its dinner time and people aren't home yet.
Vinny would probably be the first to do the picture method when his brothers ask about where you went.
"They were supposed to come down to the shop like 10 minutes ago, does anyone know where they are?"
Followed up with a picture of you under Vincent's desk giving him head and no other context. Sure, it might surprise his brothers to get a picture like that but it's easier than having to explain why you're busy.
Then when his brothers adopt it, its a mixed bag on what kind of picture they're going to get. Sometimes it's you laying asleep in bed or drinking some water in the kitchen, Bo has sent pictures of the two of you while you're out on a drive and Lester has sent one or two of the two of you with Jonesy on a walk. Other times it's Bo with a POV shot of you getting dicked down in his back seat or Lester taking you against a tree while you went out with him.
Sometimes they have you pose for the pictures and other times they'll take it without you knowing, leaving you to be surprised to realize the brothers know you just got your shit rocked before meeting them. They've had a couple second long video of you riding Vincent, a bashful smile and a wave before it ends. Bo wouldn't be opposed to you taking a picture of him under your skirt, giving you head while you're on the bed of his truck. In those cases you're sure to not back log, only reading the mixed responses you get from the brothers immediately after before you set his phone down and push on the back of his head.
-💙
Absolutely it’s a known thing. There’s one for the four of you, and one for just the brothers.
Vincent is often taking photos and videos of you so I’m not surprised he’d be the first one to send them in the group chat. Needless to say, the picture of you going down on Vincent blows up the chat and suddenly the other two want a turn and they’d be quick to send their own experiences with you back to the chat—for bragging purposes and to make the others a little bit jealous.
So the chat log is a mix of candid pictures of you that are innocent, some are selfies of the two of you together, some are posed pictures (specifically when with Vincent), and then there’s a ton of NSFW content on there as well. Sometimes they scroll through when they’re in the mood and you’re not around.
Love the idea of pulling their tricks on them in the same chat, too. That picture of Bo between your legs would have a similar reaction. And now I want Bo to give me head fuck
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theres something that morganthe said that's always confused me. In the final fight against her: "Face me in all my forms and despair." Why does she have other forms of Balance, Ice, and Storm? Is there an in-lore or headcanon reason or is it just... something the devs picked just to make the fight more of a challenge worthy of being arc 2's ending?
I don’t believe there a confirmed canon explanation for this, though (to absolutely no ones surprise) I do have a very good guess to what these multiple forms might be!
To start let’s take a quick look at the forms themselves
First you have Ice, depicted in a deep blue and star patterns, then Balance, which is mainly void of any color or pattern, Death in Grey and lunar symbols, an finally Storm is purple and clad with solar pattern.
Which yea, at first glance- nothing particularly unusual stands out about this. Save for Balance, each “version” of Morganthe here is colored in accordance to their respective schools within the game, and... wait a minute though. Doesn’t this seem a little... familiar?
Oh yea, now I remember-
Y’all, Morganthe’s Memories share the exact same color scheme as those “forms” we see in the Shadow Palace. This, in my opinion, can not just be some wild coincidence and definitely has place within the game’s Lore about Morganthe herself.
If you’ve kept up with my theories (which if your reading this i assume you have lol), you know I’m very sold on the idea that Morganthe was put through the conversion table process, and was infused with shadow magic so that she could be puppetted and controlled by the one connected to the Shadows core- Old Cob himself. We’ve seen the dialogue that’s stated this a few times, so i won’t get into that here- however, that still begs a interesting question- HOW exactly does the “conversion” process work, especially for Morganthe?
I think it would be so fitting if Spider was actually able to alter/tamper Morganthe’s own memories to how he wanted her to act as Shadow Queen. He talks about how “reluctant” she was to continue working with the Arachna once she figured out they wanted to use her knowledge and ability with Shadow as a weapon. THIS was bad for Spider/The Arachna, because ultimately his plan was to use an outside force so great and terrible (shadow queen Morganthe) that it would eventually lead someone (the wizard) who he could more easily trick into freeing him and then beginning the events of Arc 3 since Morganthe ended up figuring out what his true intensions were.
So instead of emotionally manipulating her into doing what he wanted (like how he was able to do with the wizard), the only option left was to control her more literally- aka, the conversion tables.
However, I think Morganthe was an especially different case from how we see the Mantises and other Arachna being infused. We See Old Cob simply unweave the shadow tacked onto them with the use of crystals if I’m not mistaken. With Morganthe though, this girl is a fucking wizard prodigy who re-discovered the inner workings of Shadow Magic. I Would imagine that Cob probably had to take a more desperate approach to making sure he had her under his thumb to get what he wanted.
And, as we know, Shadow magic deals a lot with memories. I think that Spider was able to tamper with Morganthe most formative memories, cut out the parts that grounded her in reality (like her Memory in Avalon of wanting to resist what her brother was doing, and her displeasure over hurting people), and stitch in the parts that influenced rage and power (such as the hurt she felt over Ambrose banishing her) in order to create what we know as the Shadow Queen.
So in sum, the “forms” we see in the Shadow Palace are Morganthe’s Memories, though they are the ones altered by Spider- that’s why they appear as the Shadow Queen does because he made them into his image. The things we see in Radiance Reborn could very well be the “true” memories, the untampered scraps that Spider had tossed because they were of no use to him.
Now, as for the Balance “version” we see- I think that’s a Forth memory in the progress of being formed. The Blue, Violet and Grey versions we see are obviously Morganthe memories (tampered or not), and they all stand ground in in what are definitely the most prominent events in Morganthe life- all up UNTIL she actually becomes Shadow Queen.
Despite being controlled by Spider, her own shadow still exists within her, and she can still create these physical forms out of her memories. I think that Balance one- the one devoid of any particular color or pattern- would eventually become the memory that signified her time as Shadow Queen, like the three memories we’ve seen before.
The reason it might be depicted as balance is because the Memory has yet to concrete itself in something that represents the time that it symbolizes- the Blue Memory being Ice makes sense because Ice often symbolizes strength and foundation- The memory of Avalon is obviously set during Morganthe’s very early youth, where she was very impressionable. It could also attribute to her feelings of grief and loss- she might have wanted to remain “frozen” in a time before Malory's death.
Violet being Storm makes sense- Morganthe being banished, her wand/deck being taken from her, accidentally hurting her classmates, ending up homeless/an eventual pirate, and generally being scared of her powers than NO ONE seems to know hwo to help her control, probably leaves her with an extreme sense of anxiety and sadness, such easily represented by the power and energy of Storm Magic.
And then you have Grey, the memory that kicks off all the unspeakable stuff occurring for Morganthe in Khrysalis, and is obviously reprehensive of death magic. For me, I think this time, especially once she starts to refuse the Shadow Magi, is perhaps Morganthes lowest point. All she really wanted was to learn how to control astral magic, “find her true self”, and return home and prove she wasn’t some monster. But here she is, having been groomed and tricked by the Magi into re-discovering lost knowledge and wanting her to be their grand weapon in a war she wants no part in. Needles to say, this memory being rooted in Death fits.
So then, what would the fourth forming memory be? For me, I think Fire. The most uncontrollable element, and one obviously linked with rage and destruction, I think fits the time in Morganthe’s life were she was the Shadow Queen- even if Spider was partly controlling her the entire time, it was still her. (Also, as shadow queen she’s clad in a deep, scarlet red color with her usual black robes... just sayn’ lol)
Speaking of, I actually wanted this memory to be a focal point if Morganthe ever gets a redemption arc. While I think she could more easily accept thosr first three memories/shadows as a part of herself, i’d expect her to actually repulse the idea that this... “Scarlet” memory/shadow belongs with her. The biggest reason for this is that, if she “accepts” this part of her life, she’ll ultimately have to remain with the reality of what was done to her, the Spider had control of her, that she DID hurt and kill so many people... that’s scary, and I think could speak to a lot of trauma victims in the same what Arc 3 speaks so clearly to those with broken or divorces families.
Anywho, i’m really starting to ramble here, but TL;DR: Morganthe’s different forms at the end of Arc 2 could very well be related to her memories we see in Radiance Reborn, and also allude to the idea that Old Cob, when Morganthe went through the conversion table process, may have tampered with those initial Memories/Shadows, and created memories that would help fuel Morganthe’s power as shadow queen.
And yea, It’s very possible the devs simply picked Ice, Storm, Death, and Balance for game play purposes, and it doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but! What’s in the fun in that y’know? I think this, or something akin to it, is a lot more intriguing and gives a lot more depth to Morganthe’s character, as well as the story for Arc 2 :D
#wizard101#oki's theories#oki answers a thing#stormbreaker101#anywho i've had this theory since 2014 but idk if i've ever seen anyone talk about it which is crazy
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Don’t Wanna Lose You
I’m going through the Wayback Machine and bringing over some fics that I wrote when I was imaginingwwesuperstars!! Well, at least what they have archived…and has been edited since the original post…I hope you enjoy!!
Masterlist
**SMUT WARNING**
You sat in the bed of your hotel room, reading a book. Roman was in the shower so you decided that you were gonna wait it out. The way his match went tonight, you had planned to jump him because…just…damn. Then again, it’s not like you need a reason to jump his bones.
You heard the water turn off and the shower curtain open. You felt yourself getting giddy. It had been a little bit since you’ve had him all to yourself and you missed him. But you tried to play it cool, deciding to continue reading as he walked out of the bathroom. You looked up to see that he was dressed to go out.
“Where are you going?” You asked curiously as Roman sat on the edge of the bed, putting on his shoes.
“I was gonna go out with some of the guys for a drink.” Roman asked, never bothering to throw a glance your way.
“Ro, I thought we were gonna just stay in tonight.”
“We were but then my cousins texted me saying they were in town with Dean. Figured we could go see them.”
“No. I’m good.” You then went back to reading your book for real, with the roll of your eyes.
“What’s with the eye roll?”
“It’s nothing.” You replied irritably.
“You know what, I’m not in the mood for this tonight.”
“Fine. Then just go.”
“What is your problem, Y/N? You were fine literally moments ago.”
“Then maybe you should think about what was said those moments ago that made me like this.”
“What, so you’re mad about me going out with my cousins and Dean?” You shrugged your shoulders. “You got a problem with them all of a sudden?”
“My problem isn’t with them, Roman.”
“Then what is your problem?”
“You, okay?” You closed your book and dropped it on the nightstand next to you before crossing your arms in front of you. “You’re my problem. You’ve been neglecting me. You have been for some time now.”
“Neglecting you? The fuck you talking about?”
“When was the last time we went out together?”
“A few days ago.”
“Yeah…with Rollins and the New Day.”
“I remember you having a good time that night.”
“I won’t lie. I did. But this is the first time I’ve gotten to spend time with you in a while. Just us.”
“Oh come on.” Roman turned away from you, walking to the door. “That’s not true. You’re overreacting.”
“Am I? Think about it. When was the last time you and I have even done anything more than sleep in the same bed together? When we travel, it’s with others. We get to the arena, you have stuff to do or I have something to do. I haven’t really had time with you these past few months unless I’m sharing you with somebody else. Or you just leave me all together. I feel ignored a lot of the time, Roman. I mean, we haven’t even been here a whole 20 minutes before you talk about leaving again.” You voice got calmer as you kept going, Roman having stopped with his back to you. “All I’m asking is that—”
“Look. You are completely blowing this way out of proportion. I haven’t been ignoring you. Your problem is you want to spend all your time with me and I can’t do that.”
“I’m not asking to spend every waking moment together, Roman.”
“That’s not what it sounds like to me. Look, I’m not doing this tonight.” Roman scoffed as he opened the door and walking out, slamming the door behind him.
You sighed to yourself to keep the tears at bay before you punched the pillow right next to you.
=================================
“What’s the matter, uce? Something’s been bothering you all night.” Dean asked Roman.
“It’s nothing, man.” Roman replied, taking a drink from his mug.
“Come on. I know when something’s up. Talk to me. Is everything okay with Y/N?”
Roman looked at his watch. It was 12:30 in the morning and his cousins had already gone back to their rooms and to their wives.
“No.” Roman took another drink. “She says that I’m neglecting her.”
“Really?” Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. “She finally told you, huh?”
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew, Rome. I mean, you guys started dating a few years ago…she’s a sweet girl. You really think she and I wouldn’t become friends in the process?”
“She said that she feels like I’m ignoring her.”
“She’s not wrong.”
“She isn’t?”
“No. Think about these past few months. In reality it’s more than a few months, but really think about them, Rome. I’ve seen it too. You guys get to the arena, you go your separate ways. She’s gone for a kiss more than once but you just don’t see it and you blow her off. I mean, all the way up to earlier this year, every time someone invited you out you would at least turn down a few of them to spend time with your girl. But…you don’t do that anymore. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s put up with it for this long.”
“I’ve been feeling like I spend too much time with her.”
“You haven’t. You’ve been spending all you time away from her. I know moving in together has got you a little spun out, but you have been neglecting her, man. I mean…do you even love Y/N anymore?”
“Of course I do, man.”
“You have a funny way of showing it. If you keep treating her this way, you’re gonna lose her.”
It was like suddenly his life flashed before his eyes. He then saw the moments in his head the times you tried to kiss him, but he just walked away from you; he saw when you had gotten dressed up to go somewhere, but then he blew you off for his friends; he then saw how things unfolded between you two earlier tonight…how the hurt shone in your eyes but you still tried to remain strong.
Oh god…he was a fucking asshole.
Dean was right…moving you in had him a little spun out but he didn’t think it would be that bad. It shouldn’t have been that bad in the first place because you guys have been together for 3 years. He didn’t even realize what he was doing to you. He really was trying to take time for himself to sort his feelings and in turn, he was hurting you in the process. That was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.
“I gotta go.” Roman said, getting up.
“Go make it right, brother.” Dean replied, patting him on the shoulder as he got up himself to head back to his room.
=================================
You were sitting on the balcony, looking up at the stars as you relaxed in a pool chair the hotel had out there. You couldn’t help but think if this relationship was gonna work out for you anymore…not if Roman continued to act the way he did. But then again, you’ve been dealing with it long enough. Maybe it was time for you guys to call it. You knew you would have to start moving out the moment you got home. Renting a storage space wouldn’t be too bad until you could find your own place.
You heard the sliding glass door open, breaking out of your thoughts.
“Roman, we need to talk.” You started when you saw him.
Roman immediately helped you to your feet and pulled you into his arms. You were shocked for a moment, your arms at your sides.
“I was wrong, babygirl. So wrong.” Roman whispered into your ear. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it and I have nothing better to tell you than I’m sorry. There is no excuse for it. I promise you that I will do better. I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”
You stood there for a bit as you soaked in his words. Holy crap, he sees what he’s been doing? You felt Roman’s arms beginning to loosen up on you when you realize that you hadn’t hugged him back. Before Roman could pull away from you, you wrapped your arms around him. You heard Roman sigh as he kissed the side of your head and buried his face into your hair.
“What changed?” You asked, keeping Roman in your arms but pulling away to look him in the eyes.
“I talked to Ambrose. He made me see what I was doing. I’m stupid, Y/N. So stupid. Then I thought about what you said earlier.” Roman pushed some hair away from your face. “I knew it wouldn’t be long. I love you and I don’t know if I could handle losing you.”
You looked him the eyes for a moment. You were relieved to find the sincerity in them. You then rested you head on his chest and closed your eyes. You felt Roman kiss the top of your head.
“I love you too, Roman.” You finally said, breaking the moments silence between you two.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Roman mumbled before pulling away momentarily.
His thumb traced your jaw line before he leaned in a kissed you. The kiss was sweet and gentle, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair. He backed you towards the chair he pulled you from. His hands went to the back of your thighs and he lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist as he turned around and sat in the chair.You pulled Roman’s hair from his hair tie and ran your fingers through it. You then felt Roman’s fingers on both your shoulders, lowering the spaghetti straps of your top down. You rested your cheek on the top of Roman’s head as he placed gentle kisses on your shoulders. He then pulled your shirt down a little more, exposing your breasts to the cool night air.
“Y/N…” Roman panted as his forehead rested against your chest, his hands moving from your waist to cup your breasts. “I need to be inside you so bad.” He then went to kiss your right breast, swirling his tongue around the nipple.
“Here?” You asked breathlessly.
“Right here, babe. And we have to be quiet unless you want people to hear you.”
Roman helped you to your feet. You began to remove your shorts while he undid his jeans and pulled them down with his briefs. Sure enough, little Ro was standing at attention. He sat back down on the chair before you straddled him once more.You positioned him at your entrance before slowly sinking down on him. God, it had felt like forever since he’s been inside you…you missed him. Roman growled when he was fully sheathed inside you. You began a slow pace as you continued to adjust having him inside you. You were mindful to keep your sounds and noises to a quiet minimum.
Roman’s hands wandered to your back as you picked up your speed. His short fingernails gently grazed your spine and lower back, urging you on. It had been long enough that he wouldn’t last as long as he wanted to. But once he was good to go again, he was gonna pound you into that mattress later. Shit, the thought of that turned him on further, he felt himself getting closer and closer.
“Fuck, baby.” Roman mumbled, his jaw clenching before he continued. “I’m not gonna last long.”
You were glad to hear that because you weren’t either. You picked up the pace once more, riding him as your orgasm continued to build. You bit down on your lip, trying to hold back your moans. Roman’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. His face rest on your breasts as you rest yours on the top of his head. Your fingers tugged on his hair as you were about to cum.
“Roman…Roman…” You whimpered.
“Cum for me, Y/N…come on, baby.” He breathed, turning his head to bury it in between your breasts to muffle any noises he might make.
Your body quivered and shook as you let go. You used the top of Roman’s head to muffle your moans. You felt Roman’s warm seed fill you as he grunted into your breasts. You continued to ride him until you were sure he was finished.
You both remained in place for a moment as you worked to catch your breaths. You pulled away to look him in the eyes.
“I love you, Roman.” You told him, pushing some hair away from his face.“
I love you too.” Roman replied, pulling you down for a kiss. “I’m gonna change, okay? I promise.”
You smiled at him and kissed him again. The kiss deepened once more and you felt Roman start to get hard again while he was still inside you. Roman stood up and wrapped your legs around him for you as he walked back into the hotel room.
“Where are we going?” You asked with a knowing smile.
“The bed. I need to show you exactly how sorry I am.” He smiled back at you.
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Principle Decisions [22/27]
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Zelda Spellman/Lilith
Summary: “Oh no, I’m very intrigued about what you have planned with just the knife,” Lilith said, her eyes flashing. “I trust you, implicitly.”
N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.
Zelda placed her bag in the back of the car before she stepped back, closing the trunk. Just as she went to say her goodbyes, Hilda rushed from the veranda with a picnic basket and handed it to her. “I know it’s only a short trip, but there’s some coffee and sandwiches for you and Mary both,” she said, before giving a big smile.
Zelda rolled her eyes, but took the basket from her nonetheless and placed it on the backseat of the car. “Thank you, sister, but it will only be a few hours drive. We don’t need to stop along the way.”
“Never know,” Hilda said. “There may be some delays or a flat wheel, and you’ll be thankful for that warm bit of coffee.”
She meant well, and as much as Zelda wanted to argue, she bit her tongue and gave a short nod. Her sister was supportive, in her own way, and it was enough for her to hold back from making any snide comments.
From the veranda, wrapped up warmly in gloves, jacket and a scarf, Ambrose gave a nod of his head. They’d spoken a few days ago, and Ambrose had supplied his support, reminding her once again, that she should be choosing her own happiness.
Zelda softened and smiled at him, feeling her chest warm. All she needed now was to wait for Sabrina. She’d thought about doing it through phone and then had decided against it. It deserved to be in person, and right now, it didn’t hurt anyone that she and Lilith were off spending the weekend together.
“Right,” Hilda said, stepping back. “I trust you’ve got everything, but were there any errands here you needed me to run while you were gone?”
“No, Hilda. But thank you. I’ll return before it’s time to pick up Sabrina from the Walkers.”
“And if you don’t, I’ll pick her up. Don’t rush your trip, enjoy it. Lord knows that once classes start up again, you’ll both be busy little bees.”
That was undoubtedly true. Zelda smiled and gave a short nod and then offered a wave to Ambrose. Then she was climbing into the car.
As she drove off, she checked her rearview mirror and watched as Ambrose and Hilda both waved at her departure before returning inside, smiles on their faces.
It was cold. Freezing really. To prep for picking up Lilith, she placed the heaters on high and the seat warmer on for passenger side.
When Lilith climbed in, after setting her bag into the trunk, her eyebrows shot up as she looked to Zelda. “Seat warmers, you really did put out big money for the car.” And then she was leaning forward, pressing a kiss to Zelda’s lips before a protest could be argued.
Zelda sighed against her mouth, feeling the familiar flutter in her chest. Her and Lilith, Lilith and her. She pulled back, watching as Lilith bit her lip as she smiled at her. “What’s the first thing on your agenda?”
Currently, Zelda was thinking about pushing the car into park and then opening up Lilith’s house again to pin her to the nearest surface. But there was plenty of time for that later. “We arrive, check-in, and then there’s the hotel bar and restaurant. I thought tonight we could settle in.”
“Settle in,” Lilith teased. “I brought a few things. I hope you don’t mind my presumptions.”
“I brought a few things too,” Zelda said. “And I fully intended to be presumptuous.”
Lilith laughed and then she was settling in the seat, smiling at her. “I can’t wait. I have a feeling this weekend is going to be a lot of fun.”
Zelda pulled onto the road, flicking her car’s stereo to play a radio show for their first hour. It was mostly a conversation starter, and they both took to it quickly, discussing the hosts' opinions and then going off on their own tangents, getting into a disagreement over the semantics of some philosophies, and then diving into the depths of others.
It was refreshing to speak to someone who’s mind was as sharp as hers, who’d read as much as she had, but wasn't also comfortable to say that she didn’t know what Zelda was talking about. There was no pretence behind any of it. Lilith wasn’t afraid to tell her she was wrong, nor was she afraid to back down from an argument and agree.
Zelda adored her all the more for it.
���Did we pass the roadhouse?” Lilith asked, twisting in her seat to look at a passing road sign.
“A few miles back. Why?”
“It was a landmark that I used to measure how far away we were.”
“The GPS is right there,” she said, pointing to where her phone was. Lilith looked at it and then at her.
“It feels more real with the landmarks,” she said. “You get used to going, ‘ah, yes, the dog statue, we must only be an hour out, now’.”
Zelda rolled her eyes, shaking her head. She used GPS for any of her lengthy trips, even when they were for something as simple as a direct highway to the city. “We’re only two hours out. You can sleep if you want to.”
“Hmm. There’s definitely something that I want to,” Lilith said to her, turning her head to look at Zelda mischievously. “Two hours is a very long time, and I didn’t see you at all yesterday.”
No, Zelda had been busy preparing for the trip.
She flicked her eyes from the road to looking at Lilith, going to ask what she intended to do––and then watched as Lilith undid her pants and slid her hand underneath. Zelda flicked her eyes back to the road and sucked in a deep breath, focusing on the stretch of highway before them as she listened to Lilith sigh.
Two hours was a long way, she realised. The highway was long, and she couldn’t just pull off in the middle of nowhere.
She listened as Lilith sighed again, making a small noise before she drew in a long deep breath.
Zelda briefly glanced at her, catching a glimpse of Lilith with one hand deep in her pants, and the other grabbing at her chest, firmly squeezing it.
“Are you intentionally trying to tease me?” Zelda asked.
“Yes,” Lilith said, “Is it working?”
Zelda shifted in her seat, keeping her eyes forward. She passed a road sign informing her there was a truck stop up ahead. Good. She swallowed, listening to the quiet hum of the engine, of the wind passing around the bonnet and windscreen, as she tried to ignore Lilith masturbated in the passenger seat.
She knew that if she asked her to stop, Lilith would. She would clean her hands and move the topic to something that would distract them both. But Zelda couldn’t find herself asking her to stop. All she could do was listening as Lilith slowly, lazily masturbated.
And the only question Zelda wanted to ask was how wet are you. But she knew what the answer would be: find out for yourself.
Jesus Christ.
She saw the truck stop against the horizon, void of any other vehicle. She pulled up, probably faster than necessary, and then unbuckled her seatbelt, placing the car into park and looked at Lilith. “Get out of the car,” she said.
The surprise on Lilith’s face was worth it.
“Out!” Zelda snapped and watched as Lilith grinned at her, before climbing out of the car. It was was cold, but not as freezing as it’d been Greendale. Zelda left the car running, and stepped out, shutting the door behind her as she grabbed Lilith and pressed her against the front bonnet of the vehicle. She shoved at her shoulders, and Lilith obeyed, lying down against the heat of the hood, stomach first.
The bonnet was warm, and as Zelda pressed behind Lilith, she adjusted the woman’s hips. “I bet you think your self absolutely wicked for teasing me like that.”
“Oh, I do.”
“Mm. And what do we do to wicked girls?”
Lilith’s hips shifted, moving to press up against her. “I do so hope the answer is to punish them?”
“It is, indeed,” Zelda said. “Now, I think I’ll take a page out of your book.” She kept her hand pressed on Lilith’s shoulder. “Pull your pants down for me.”
Lilith wriggled, pressing her hips firmly against Zelda’s as she looked over her shoulder. “And if I don’t?”
“And if you don’t, whatever lovely fucking you believe will happen in that hotel will be done only to yourself as I get a good night’s rest.”
Lilith studied her, eyes flicking over Zelda as if considering challenging it before she thought better of it. Zelda watched as she reached up and pushed the pants down, dropping them to the ground, around her ankles along with a lovely pair of underwear.
“Thank you,” she said as she leant back to admire the bare ass before her. Should anyone drive past, they might suspect what was happening, but they certainly wouldn’t know, unless they were to pull off to the truck stop. Which meant that Zelda could punish Lilith as she saw fit. “It’s cold, and I don’t want to be out here any longer than I need to be, so I’m going to make this quick,” she said.
“How quick?” Lilith purred.
“Ten strikes?”
Lilith paused, and Zelda wondered, briefly if it was too much, if they should have negotiated better. She went to speak to say that they could do something else until she saw Lilith’s expression, hungry and waiting for her. Giving her absolute permission.
“What’s your safe word?” she asked Lilith.
“Morningstar,” Lilith responded.
Zelda grinned. And then she rose her hand and brought it down on Lilith’s bare ass. It felt good. The hit was hard and sure and Lilith tense, gasping. Zelda did it again, watching the woman’s face, her body’s reaction, and each time Lilith tensed and then relaxed, her breath coming out in hot pants against the bonnet.
She was enjoying it as much as Zelda. Each spank was firm, loud, and Zelda could feel her hand sting by the tenth one. She wanted more––knew that she could do more later––but was content with how her work looked; Lilith’s ass was reddened, and arousal was beginning to form.
It made her wonder if this feeling of pride and arousal was what Lilith had felt all that time ago in the office. And made her wonder if, during future drives on highways, Zelda would find herself going back to this memory of Lilith pressed over her bonnet.
She drew in a deep breath, and then, mindful of the cold, reached down and pulled Lilith’s pants back up. Underwear first and then the pants. The woman pushed up from the bonnet, turning around to face her and grinned. “You did well,” Lilith said, before leaning forward, “Now that I’ve been thoroughly punished. Perhaps there’s something else we could to warm up before we drive the next two hours.”
Zelda grinned. “I’m sure there is,” she agreed, and then took Lilith’s hand, tugging her into the backseat of the car. The moment the door shut and they were in the warmth of the car, neither of them waited.
They clashed together like they were short on time, biting and fucking as they both slid into the other’s pants, pulling the other person closer.
Zelda’s mouth bit down against Lilith’s shoulder as she stroked against her, grinding down against her thighs, and Lilith grasped at her hair, thrusting deeper inside of her.
They were fucking as if they were in competition, until at last, they both drew away, panting hard.
Somehow, she had ended up in Lilith’s lap, legs spread wide over the woman’s.
“Fuck,” Zelda whispered.
“Fuck indeed,” Lilith laughed.
Zelda inhaled and then leant forward kissing Lilith sweetly. “We should actually try and get to the hotel, or we’ll be starving by the time we arrive.” Though the picnic basket sat beside them as a reminder of Hilda’s love and care.
“I can drive if you want,” Lilith said. “And then you can be naughty in the passenger seat.”
“Mm, and distract the driver? I don’t think so. You can sit in the passenger seat and let me drive in peace. Keeping your hands to yourself.”
“Or else?”
“Or we go back to you fucking me and you…what did you do all those times when I wasn’t allowed to touch you?”
“Masturbate a lot before and after seeing you. I’m pretty sure I broke two vibrators in three months.”
Zelda laughed. “Tragic, I’m sure.”
“Well…there was that night that you came stumbling across my cottage in the woods,” Lilith said, as she drew her hands over Zelda’s shoulders, rocking her hips to shift her in her lap. “I was trying to be loud in hopes of drawing your attention.”
“I didn’t hear you,” Zelda advised.
“Therein lies the true tragedy.”
Zelda closed her eyes, feeling the pang settle in her at what she missed out on. How many times had she thought about what might have happened had she’d ascended those stairs and peered into the room to find Lilith’s fingertips deep between her thighs.
She’d thought about it, over and over, and had every plan on making Lilith masturbate for her to at least make up for it.
But that was for later.
Now, they needed to get into their hotel room as soon as possible. “We should head out,” she said, looking up at Lilith. “The sooner we arrive, the sooner I can fuck you like I promised.”
“Like you promised?” Lilith asked.
Zelda nodded, “I plan to make you clutch at sheets and bury that lovely cock you love so much, deep inside of you.”
Lilith visibly took a deep breath, her eyes flashing with excitement. “And here I thought you were asking me to bring that dildo for you,” she said. “Zelda Spellman, you need to drive us to the hotel right now.”
Zelda looked up at her, unimpressed as Lilith made no attempt to let go of her, hands holding her firmly in place.
And then a mischievous glint crossed over the woman’s face before she leant forward, kissing her as her hands moved to cup Zelda’s face. “Or,” she said, “You could find it now and fuck me here, in the backseat of your car.”
“You can wait,” Zelda said. “And if you’re patient, I’ll fuck you however you ask.”
Lilith gave her a sharp grin before she kissed her again, truly and deeply before allowing her to slide off from her lap. “As you wish,” she said. “But I’ll want to test your endurance.”
“We’ll see,” Zelda said. And then she climbed from the backseat into driver’s, pulling her seatbelt on, before Lilith followed in her stead, somehow making an elegant show of moving from the back into the passenger seat. Likely having had experience and natural lithe grace, which only made Zelda all the more curious to her past.
The remainder of the drive moved to soft discussions, dipping into light-hearted stories of their childhood and teen antics before discussing art. There, Lilith cheekily discussed art thefts and conspiracy theories, but when Zelda tried to pry into discussions of artists or their bodies of work, she remained vague––advising that she couldn't wait to show Zelda around the museum.
It left Zelda with a sense of anticipation for their upcoming tour through the art museums.
And yet, underneath all of their chatter, they were both aware of their desire for one another, and it seemed easy to feel it press between them as conversation passed as fluidly as caresses.
On their arrived, Zelda parked into the hotel lot and drew out their bags, taking the picnic basket with her as she felt the desire tug between them. Both of them looking to the small, weekend bag, knowing what was buried in its depths, though Zelda was confident that they both carried a lovely secret of two between them both.
She flicked her eyes up to Lilith’s and watched the woman grin at her knowingly. “Almost there,” Lilith teased.
Zelda scoffed, looking away from her as she continued forward, towards the entrance. The concierge desk stood to the immediate left, and after confirming her name and credit card, they were provided with their room keys and confirmation of their access to the gym and spa, should they so wish.
It was past midday but not quite evening and Zelda planned to enjoy the next few hours with Lilith, uncaring as to if they missed dinner.
She summoned the elevator, swiping the key and stepped into the elevator as Lilith stepped beside her. The door shut as she pressed their floor number and then Zelda was pressing beside Lilith, mindful that this was a public space, that anyone could summon the door as she pressed her hand again Lilith’s ass.
The woman was lucky she wasn’t wearing a skirt, if she had been, Zelda would have slid underneath it to feel Lilith shiver.
“I’m going to fuck you hard.”
“Promises,” Lilith teased, glancing to her.
Their room was spacious, there was a bed, a kitchenette, a bathroom with a sizeable shower, and a television mounted to the wall, before the bed.
“They probably have pay-per-view,” Lilith advised, as she set the bags down.
Zelda hummed at the thought, she wasn’t sure how she felt about watching porn, she’d never taken an interest in it.
“Get undressed,” Zelda said, as she set her bag down.
“So soon?” Lilith asked. “I haven’t even settled.”
“Get undressed, or I’ll find something else to occupy my time with.”
Lilith grinned at her, and then, very deliberately, began to undress in what could only be described as a striptease. It was slow and purposeful, with meaningful looks thrown Zelda’s way, and then Lilith was sitting on the bed, naked and ready. Good.
“Close your eyes,” she said, and Lilith obeyed, more likely out of curiosity than anything else. And then, Zelda unzipped her bag, watching to make sure Lilith didn’t move. She saw the woman peek curiously before closing her eyes once again as she caught Zelda’s glare.
Zelda walked up to her and settled before her, kissing over her shoulders and down her collar. Lilith exhaled, her head tilting forward and Zelda smiled as she gently drew her hands over Lilith’s back and then down, dipping into the curve of her waist and then the swell of her hips as she kissed over her shoulder.
Lifting a hand, she brushed Lilith’s hair over one shoulder and moved to kiss over her throat, nipping at it.
“The other day,” Zelda said, “You mentioned you used to engage in wax play. I used to be quite the expert.” And then she set on the bed a long, thin dagger. “But I was especially good with knives.”
Lilith turned to face her. “Knife play?” she asked softly.
Zelda nodded, biting her lip. “I have a lot of experience,” she assured. “Especially with wax if you’d prefer to keep it…relatively safe with me dripping wax onto you and then peeling it off with the knife. The edges are blunted for safety as well, but…it’s a favourite of mine.”
“Oh no, I’m very intrigued about what you have planned with just the knife,” Lilith said, her eyes flashing. “I trust you, implicitly.”
Zelda smiled and leant forward, kissing until she felt Lilith sigh against her mouth, before pulling away. I trust you. It was so little, so small, yet Zelda felt like the words were as impactful as I love you.
“What are your limits?” she asked.
Lilith hummed in thought as she seemed to consider it carefully, before answering, “Don’t stab me.”
Zelda rolled her eyes. “Honestly,” she said. “Is that really your hard limit.”
“Mm, with you, it just might be,” Lilith teased, and Zelda should remember who was in control. That she was trying to lead because Lilith had made some hints that she would enjoy Zelda taking control. Especially with the strap-on. But it was difficult to remember who should be in control when Lilith was pressing against her body and kissing her in such a way that had Zelda almost dizzy with desire.
She wanted Lilith inside of her. She ached to feel her.
Zelda withdrew, inhaling sharply as she watched as Lilith leant back against the bed, looking absolutely wicked.
“The dagger,” Zelda said.
Lilith looked over at it and then turned back to Zelda. “Tell me what you want to do with it.”
“I thought about cutting your clothes, but that seemed unfair to whatever clothing you brought.”
“Mm, I would have been most displeased. Perhaps my underwear I would have allowed…” she said, and Zelda filed that away for things to consider, “What else?”
Zelda took the dagger in hand, watching the light dance across it. “I like how it looks when you drag it over someone’s skin. You can press and cutbut you don’t have to. You can just…” and she showed on the back of her own, running the blade across the skin.
“Show me,” Lilith said, and then she reached for Zelda’s hand brandishing the dagger and brought the blade to her sternum. With her other hand, she took Zelda’s and lead her between her thighs. “What do you want to do to me, Zelda?” Lilith asked.
Zelda slid her fingers across Lilith’s sex, feeling the growing wetness as she stroked. Lilith’s hips matched hers.
And then Zelda dragged the blade down the sternum, between the rise and fall of her chest, until she pressed firmer and watched as Lilith’s breath held as if she was hesitating from pushing it into the blade.
“What are you going to do?” Lilith asked. She was still leading, and Zelda leant forward, kissing Lilith’s mouth.
“I think the question is…what are you going to do,” Zelda asked, and she slid her fingers away from Lilith, watching the woman’s expression shift from confusion to arousal. “I think you should put your hand to better use,” she said, and she pressed the blade firmly against Lilith, watching the breaths grow short and shallow as Lilith’s lips parted, her mouth tugging into a smile. “Go on, then. I’m not going to get you off, you’ll need to do that yourself.”
Lilith’s back straightened and then she slid her hand down between her thighs, her eyes holding hers. Zelda leant back to admire it and then brought the dagger down, using the flat of it to nudge against Lilith’s thighs.
“Wider, dear. I want to see the show.”
Lilith moaned, but she obeyed, her thighs spreading further apart and Zelda watched as the fingers worked deftly, focusing on stroking over and around the labia, And then, when Zelda could see how wet she was getting, Lilith slid three fingers inside of herself as if it were hardly difficult.
Zelda swallowed, watching the hips rock, listening as Lilith’s breath came in long, slow pants, a soft keen on the edges of it.
It wasn’t enough, she wanted to play harder. She lifted her dagger, pressing the tip to the hollow of Lilith’s throat and then slid it higher and higher, until the flat of the blade pressed underneath Lilith’s jaw and nudged her chin up until Lilith was tilting her head back, looking down at her as she masturbated.
“Much better,” Zelda purred and watched as arousal bled over Lilith’s face.
Holding the dagger steady, her eyes flicked down to where Lilith’s fingers worked, watching as she slid in and out of herself as her other hand worked her clit, stroking down and over it in a tease.
Zelda’s eyes fixed to Lilith’s, and with her empty hand, she reached to Lilith’s sex and slid over it with a single finger, around Lilith’s entrance, teasing to enter it and spread her wider. It would stretch her, and a part of her wanted to, just to hear what lovely sound Lilith would say.
Instead, she brought her fingertip to her mouth and licked the coated arousal from it.
God, she wanted her. It was hardy enough, and all she wanted now was to shove Lilith down on the ground and lick over the mess that had been caused.
She steadied herself, and continued to watch, focusing on how Lilith’s hips jolt––signalling how close she was getting to climax.
“Stop,” Zelda said, but she kept the blade steady, watching as Lilith stopped but didn’t move, her chest rising and falling with a heavy pant.
“Zelda,” Lilith purred, a request in the subtext of her voice.
“You must be quite used to delayed gratification around me by now,” Zelda teased. “What’s one more day?”
Lilith drew in a deep breath. “A day?” she asked.
“I think you can control yourself for a little bit longer,” and then she set the dagger aside and reached down, pulling Lilith’s hand away from her. Lilith’s expression shifted, frustrating passing over them, and then Zelda was undressing, ripping her clothes off quickly.
She shifted Lilith, getting her to on the mattress, lying flat. “Maybe if you’re very good,” she said, “I might return the favour.” And then she was shifting her hips above Lilith’s face, watching as the woman looked up at her, a hunger filling her eyes.
“Oh, it will be my pleasure,” she said.
Zelda realised her mistake the moment Lilith’s tongue touched over her. This was Lilith’s ruling position and whatever power she expected to hold over her by sitting here, on her face, was gone the moment the woman’s hands slid over her thighs, tugging her down, harder to grind over her tongue.
Lilith worked fast, and Zelda found herself doubled over on the mattress, her hands fisting into the sheets as she felt Lilith’s tongue slide over her in swirling patterns that had her dizzy. And then, just as Zelda found her hips rocking over the tongue, she felt the woman’s fingers sliding inside of her.
“God,” Zelda whined, inhaling long, deep breaths as she blinked up at the ceiling. She could regain control back over Lilith, grab at her hair and tug her into position, but if Zelda was honest, she didn’t mind at all the relinquished control. Not when her whole body seemed to hum.
Lilith was squirming so nicely under her that––
Zelda paused, shifting to look over her shoulder and notice why Lilith was squirming underneath her. The woman was fucking herself why she licked her out.
Pushing up and off Lilith’s face, she glared down at her. “Is this how you delay yourself?” she asked.
Lilith grinned, biting her lip as she refused to stop. “And what are you going to do about it?” she asked.
Oh, what a question. She could deny her, but she doubted that she would have the desired effect she was after. Instead, Zelda moved, shifting down. She had a most lovely idea, but it would have to wait. It wouldn’t work for now, and it wouldn’t be near as fun to do over dinner as it would be in the Art Museum.
No, she’d wait to have her revenge until tomorrow, but Lilith didn’t need to know that just yet. Shifting down, she kissed Lilith’s mouth, tasting the arousal on her lips and then continued to move down her body, kissing down her throat, and shoulder, her chest and belly, until she came between her legs.
And there she moved Lilith’s hands away and replaced it with her own fingers and mouth.
Lilith sighed, her body dropping back against the mattress before her hips lifted, back arching. There we go, Zelda thought. There was the control she was after.
She kissed and licked over Lilith’s sex, her fingers sliding inside of her and curling where she knew Lilith liked to feel pressure, and then, when her hips began to buck, thighs squeezing around her, Zelda sucked on her clit, stroking inside of Lilith until she felt the woman squeeze around her fingers.
Lilith came, panting with soft moans, and a sigh, before she was reaching down and tugging Zelda’s face back to hers.
It was lazy and messy. Open-mouthed kisses and tender stroking as they shifted on the bed, and somehow, it didn’t matter at all who was leading. They groped at one another, sliding inside of each other as they fucked in so many different positions, at one stage Zelda had to stop due to a leg cramp.
By the end, Zelda was wet and sticky, uncertain of where her own arousal began, and Lilith’s ended as they both ended up draped over the other’s body, her head pressed against Lilith’s calf, and Lilith’s head lying against her ankle.
She shifted, looking over her shoulder as Lilith’s eyes fell half-lidded, exhaustion pulling at her.
“Tired?” she asked, watching as Lilith hummed in agreement, her head resting heavily against her.
“What time is it?”
Zelda squinted, shifting to look over at the clock on the bedside table. “Nine,” she said, with a yawn, “but it’s been a long day. Hilda made us food, did you want some?”
Lilith hummed, nodding.
Shifting off her, she crawled across the bed and reached for picnic basket before bringing it to bed. There, she opened up to see that Hilda had set up the food in containers, packing ice blocks around it to ensure it remained cool. They ate quietly, enjoying the food, sipping at coffee though the buzz from the caffeine seemed to supply very little energy before Zelda turned to look Lilith.
“Shower,” she said.
“Shower,” Lilith agreed, though she pushed up from the mattress tiredly, following her into the bathroom. There, Zelda washed both Lilith and herself, cleaning them of the mess of body fluids. Although washing herself involved Lilith’s arms around her waist, head resting against her shoulder as she drifted off to sleep again.
“You didn’t even drive.”
“Mm, multiple orgasms.”
“Ohh?” Zelda teased. “Is that all it takes to wear you out?”
Lilith shifted against her before nodding against her back. “Better with giving than receiving,” she said softly. Zelda sighed, feeling the breath tickle against her.
“Well, better get you to bed then.”
Lilith only curled tighter against her, apparently content to stay in the shower a little longer, but Zelda wasn’t having it. It was a waste of water. Turning the taps off, she shifted them out of the shower and handed Lilith a towel before she drying herself off.
She returned to the bedroom, dressed in her pyjamas, noting that Lilith opted to remain undress as she resumed to settle on the bed. However, as Zelda settled beside her, Lilith made herself comfortable by shifting to lie on her chest.
Zelda hummed, looking down at her as Lilith’s eyes blinked tiredly as Zelda flicked on late-night television before she drifted asleep.
There’d been a time where Zelda had wondered what domestic bliss might look like with Lilith. She’d thought that, like in sex, Lilith would vie for control, only to occasionally permit it to be the other way around. But it seemed in both things, Zelda was wrong.
Lilith was content to have her head on Zelda’s chest, an arm around her waist and saw no reason to deviate from it. And in sex, Lilith was as excited to be led as she was lead––or in some cases, mutually work with Zelda to bring them both to new heights of ecstasy. The domineering side of the dominatrix could be brought present at any moment, but the more Zelda saw her, the more she found that Lilith wanted an equal.
And Zelda wanted that too.
It was fun to be bent over and spanked, as it was to be the one bending the person over and spanking them—but in love, she wanted an equal; someone who respected her opinion, who understood her commitments and didn’t ask for more than she could give.
Lilith was offering that. Had shown that and was continuing to provide it. What else could she possibly want?
Lifting a hand, she stroked Lilith’s hair and felt as the woman snuggled tighter against her, hands gripping the nightgown before she eased back into a deep sleep, her breaths long and slow.
Zelda peeked down at her, feeling warmth hum through her. Her home had always been at the Spellman Manor. She'd travelled the world, lived in other houses and apartments, but a sense of home had always felt like her childhood residence.
And yet…for the first time, she didn’t feel homesick.
Switching the television off, Zelda reached over to the bedside table, and flicked the lamp off, holding Lilith close, so the woman didn’t think she was leaving. And then she kissed the woman’s head as she pondered one question she'd asked herself before making any lifelong decision.
If this was for the rest of their life, would she be content?
She would. In the depths of her heart, she knew she would.
Zelda loved her, and if she looked closer, and thought about all the actions and words, Lilith had said. She might believe that Lilith loved her too.
Once Sabrina had agreed, Zelda promised herself she would tell Lilith how much she loved her. She hoped that Lilith would say them back, but honestly, so as long as she was open to the idea of Zelda loving her, then the rest could wait.
She brushed Lilith’s hair from her face, watching as the woman’s brow pressed before it eased again. It seemed easy to love her, so much so that she couldn’t help but taste the words and wonder what they sounded like out loud.
I love you, I love you.
I love you, Lilith.
They tasted sweet.
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SOULMATE [Vincent Sinclair]
okay i have a few things to say about this. one: i’m mad because i’m typing this for like the 100th time because i can’t handle tumblr. i’m a dumbass. two: i’m not american and therefore don’t know too much about the american school system. three: i don’t know much about foster care either (it’s only briefly mentioned but still). now the story itself is kinda cliché and i’m sorry for the unoriginality. basically the story is a soulmate!au (everytime you pass your soulmate a line appears on your wrist, the lines only disappear once you’ve “connected” with your soulmate) and the reader and vincent are highschool students. i believe this is obvious in the story, but as i said i’m a dumbass and i don’t want to confuse y’all so yeah. anyways, that being said i hope this is not too bad :) enjoy
You took a deep breath before you entered the room. Normally you weren‘t bothered by your art classes, you actually liked them, but school was school and you‘d rather be at home than be here. On top of that you were insanely tired today, you hadn‘t slept all night. It wasn‘t such a rare occasion that you didn‘t sleep but the reason that you were up all night was something that you were thinking about more and more as of lately. Soulmates. A wonderful thing. You had never actually questioned the concept of soulmates, you hadn’t cared too much about it either, but recently the thought of your soulmate plagued you more and more. You just couldn‘t find them. Normally that wouldn‘t be too much of a problem, you were 17 years old, a senior in highschool. You were young, your life had yet to start. Who on earth found their soulmate at such a young age? Well, most people didn‘t, for sure. But you were different. You didn‘t know anymore when it had started, one or two years ago, you didn‘t remember exactly. But ever since then, just before midnight, almost everyday, a little mark appeared on your wrist. Back then you didn‘t care too much but now you started to worry. You were close to graduating highschool. You‘d move away soon, you had applied for college and had been accepted. But that also meant you‘d move away, which had become a problem after you first started questioning your soulmate a couple of months ago. Last summer break there had barely appeared a single mark, but once school had started again, so did the regular appearing of the little fine lines. Your soulmate was another student from your highschool. The realization kept you up many nights and the more you thought about it the more problems you discovered. It could be anyone out of a little less than a thousand students. (You were pretty sure it wasn‘t a teacher.) You didn‘t actually talk much to any of those students. No one you had talked to had that much marks on their wrist, at least you hadn‘t noticed anyone who did. Worst of all, you didn‘t actually like anyone you had talked to. Sure, there were a couple of kids who seemed to be alright, but no more than that. Nevertheless you didn‘t want to possibly spend the rest of your days alone, so you panicked a little more with everyday closer to your high school diploma. And with that thought in mind you entered the class room.
You huffed quietly when the teacher announced that you may now decide who you want to team up with for the second last art project of your time as a highschool student. Good. Very good. Absolutely wonderful. Having to work with someone together on an art project was one thing, having to pick the partner yourself another. Everyone had already jumped up, teaming up with their best friend as fast as possbile, while you sat there, lost, letting your eyes wander around the room. Everyone was loudly discussing anything but the art project with their friend, except for Vincent. You didn‘t want to work on this with Vincent. Not because you didn‘t like him or because that would fuck up the project for you, but rather because he was a loner. You liked loners, but kept your distance figuring that they, or at least Vincent, preferred loneliness. Ever since he had transferred to your school he had spent each and every one of the breaks alone. Of course the bullying hadn‘t gone unnoticed by you, but he had never seemed too bothered by it. You stared at the floor as you realized how stupid that was. No one is not bothered by bullying. And Vincent wore a mask everyday, so of course no one would notice if he showed any reaction if it wasn‘t physical. You took another minute to think about that and about the fact that Vincent was actually very talented, before you made your way over to him. You stood at his table for a few seconds then, hoping he‘d react and when he didn‘t you cleared your throat. Only then he looked up and you smiled shyly. “Uh, hi. I thought we could...uh, I thought we could work on this together...if you‘d like to?“ He stared at you blankly and your cheeks slowly started heating up. “I mean, you’re good. Uh, I mean with art...and stuff.“ Wow. That was awkward. You nervously scratched your arm and only stopped when he nodded slowly. This could‘ve been worse.
Three weeks later you walked out of that same classroom, trying to stop yourself from smiling. Since you had approached Vincent you had spent quite some time together and he seemed to be slowly warming up to you. He didn‘t look away anymore when you made eye contact, he gave you at least a nod when he saw you in the school building aside from the breaks you spent together once in a while and today you even joked around a bit! He didn‘t talk much, until today he had barely said a word, but when he talked he was quite sassy! You had to suppress a giggle, thinking about the remarks he had made about this and that. A month ago you wouldn‘t have thought he would be so much fun to be around. You sighed heavily, thinking about that. A month closer to your highschool diploma. A month further from your soulmate. With exiting the school building you shrugged your shoulders. You‘ll probably die alone, but when the time would come you‘d know you at least had a friend back in highschool.
“Look Vinny, it’s soo cute!” You and Vincent had decided to go on a walk, the weather had been too tempting. When you had spotted the animal shelter he couldn’t resist your puppy eyes (pun not intended) and now here you were. Both watching a sleeping puppy. Its fur was white and black and you figured it was a mongrel. And you were absolutely in love with the little furball. He chuckled at your adoration for the pup. His eyes lingered on your frame just a little longer than neccessary. Lately he felt sad or rather melancholy when he was around you. At times he even wished he had never befriended you because soon you’d leave and he no longer would be a part of your life, but therefore more lonely than he had ever been before. You felt his eyes on you and looked up at him to gave him a little smile. Strange. This had happened more and more recently, he’d just look at you. Even stranger was that you catched yourself doing the same and you didn’t know why. It happened in that moment and in many more moments that day.
At the end of the day you were sitting on a little hill, not far away from Vincent’s hometown Ambrose. The foster home he -rather forcibly-lived in was apparently not to far away from the small town. Now you enjoyed the soft breeze of spring air and the golden light of the sun, which would soon be setting. The two of you hadn‘t talked about it, but you knew you were trying to make some more good memories before you left for college. You lost yourself in a train of thoughts when suddenly the image of the two you kissing popped up in your head. What the hell? You looked awkwardly at the ground, ripping a bit of grass out of it, trying to distract yourself with something. It didn‘t work. Now the thought was there and it wouldn‘t leave. You took a deep breath before you spoke up. “Have you ever had a girlfriend, Vince?“ He looked at you surprised, before shaking his head, eyes fixated on the floor, now finding the grass very interesting too. “Were you ever in love?“ Your eyes were glued to him, waiting for a reaction. You knew him well enough to interpret any little gesture at least fairly correct. But there wasn‘t much of a reaction, he was thinking, debating how to answer until he decided on a simple shrug. You chuckled. “So...you haven‘t found your soulmate then?“ He brushed his hand through his hair before shaking his head again. You heard him mumble a quiet ‘unfortunately‘, muffled by his mask, as he looked down again. “Me neither.“ Now was the perfect moment to finally talk about what had been on your mind for so long, to finally get rid of that burden you carried with you for months, years even. Who else would you tell about your worries? “I...I have the marks you know? A lot of them. I see my soulmate almost everyday, but I still haven’t found them. I‘m...I‘m scared.“ When you looked up from the green surrounding you your eyes met his immediately. He was staring at you intensely, in a way you couldn‘t read. “Is this supposed to be a staring contest? Vincent, I-“ He pulled his sweater up and there they were. His marks. They looked just like yours. Of course, everyone had those lines, but he had just as much as you. You reached out for his wrist, caressing the fine imprints. Your breathing was uneven, your heartbeat was fast and your mind was empty. It was as if someone else took control of your body when you pushed his mask up, carelessly letting it fall to the ground, and softly pressed your lips to his. And it was as if someone else took control of his body when he let you. Your thoughts were racing, with his lips on yours and a burning sensation far from pain on your wrist. You parted only when the sensation had stopped, still not understanding what just happened, not knowing how you felt but passively registering that everything was alright now, that everything would be alright from now on. You shot a quick look at your wrist, the lines now gone. A smile formed on your lips as the realization set in. And then he leaned his forehead against yours, with his eyes closed.
You sat there for hours and only left when the sun had long disappeared and the moon and stars were your only light besides each other. Yes, everything was alright now. Everything would be alright from now on.
#vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair imagine#house of wax#house of wax 2005#house of wax imagine#slasher#slasher x reader#slasher imagine#slasher content#slasher community#soulmate
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Ok, so like, we all know how important family is to the Sinclairs. They would kill and die for each other, I'm pretty sure. But like, what if your family treats you badly? How do you think they'd react to that? I smell some conflicted feelings especially since the brothers' family life wasn't great either. Please don't take this as a request, I'm just asking for your thoughts 😊
Okay I’m on this ask like a pig on shit because I have some THOUGHTS
TW TW TW FOR MENTIONS OF SUICIDAL INTENTIONS RE: CANONICAL EVENTS IN HOUSE OF WAX, canonical codependency (the beautiful twins mwah mwah), mentions of death (canon compliant), reader experiences an unspecified form of abuse from their family (I wrote this as vaguely as possible to hopefully cover most bases so anyone can read this and find comfort), talks of canon compliant abuse towards children (the Sinclairs).
IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE THIS PART (the suicidal intentions) BUT WOULD LIKE TO READ THE ASK THEN PLEASE SKIP THE FIRST PARAGRAPH (IMMEDIATELY UNDER THE GIF)! THE REST OF THE ANSWER IS UNAFFECTED BY THIS MENTION BUT PLEASE HEED THE OTHER WARNINGS.
AS ALWAYS, GN!READER, NO CODED LANGUAGE, “YOU” & Y/N USED - this is NOT a piece, this is just me rambling.
The Sinclairs DO kill for each other - we see it in canon, and they would DEFINITELY die for each other, too (one could argue Vincent had suicidal intentions when he stalked after Carly and Nick after Carly murdered Bo - 2 against 1 and already vulnerable due to the grief and rage, which made Vincent reckless, GOING TOTALLY AGAINST EVERYTHING WE KNOW OF HIM THUS FAR. He was gonna follow Bo to where he went because they were born together and sure as shit is brown, they’re gonna die together, too; they need each other, for the worse or the WORST).
The Sinclairs are an incredibly tight knit family; they haven’t survived this long by opening ranks, after all, and it was a surprise to everyone when they allowed you a chance to live and to carve yourself out a place in Ambrose. I absolutely REFUSE to believe that they don’t love each other fiercely, that they wouldn’t live and die for each other as aforementioned, and nothing anyone says is ever gonna change my mind. You’re never going to be as close to the Sinclairs as they are to each other; you’ll be close with them, yes. You’ll have hugs and cuddles, kisses if you want them, you’ll join film nights and watch the twins argue over pool, you’ll drink with Lester if you want to imbibe, you’ll do everything they do and you’ll do it with them, but there’s always gonna be some kind of disconnect between you and the twins (Lester is much easier to get along with; he’s so eager to please and so desperate for some kind of love and approval, for someone to join in him in his endlessly lonely life, that he throws himself head first into anything good which comes his way).
The twins understand each other on a level which you and Lester will never be able to reach, and that’s okay, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting you sometimes. You’re absolutely right to say that there’s gonna be conflicted feelings; all three Sinclairs were abused as children and all three were traumatised by their upbringing (while it SEEMS as though Bo received the brunt of the abuse, I’d put actual money on all three being abused in some kind of way - Bo is obvious, Vinny with his mask and Lester with the fact that he was most unlikely born in an attempt to have a “normal” child - that’s a very fucking WRONG reason to bring someone into the world and he would have felt it every fucking moment of his life. Children pick up on this kind of stuff, no matter how subtle an adult thinks they’re being). They all had terrible childhoods and these serve as a potential explanation BUT NOT JUSTIFICATION OR AN EXCUSE as to who they each become as adults, so when they find out that your family mistreats/neglects/abuses you, there are mixed reactions.
Bo would initially be dismissive, scoffing in derision as he looks off into the distance, a faraway look in his blue eyes, one hand on his hips and his head shaking. His shoulders heave and you recognise all the signs; you see in him something you’ve seen in the mirror looking back at you more times than you care to admit to. But after the initial finding out, he’s watching you carefully and the evidence quickly builds as you and Bo see pieces of yourselves in the other, and he grows protective of you. Now, you’re not just being held in Ambrose, you’re not just someone they took a chance on; you’re somewhere in between a close friend and family. It depends on what kind of dynamic you imagine yourself having with Bo in this scenario but either way, he’s more protective and he’s more receptive to having open conversations with you. He won’t shrug you off if you want to talk about things and he’ll often invite you to sit down with him when he’s watching TV or to join him in the garage. You wonder what he’s doing, his behaviour and words at total odds with one another, but one night he says something he’ll rarely if ever repeat: “tell y’somethin’, darlin’. I’on know why yer family did all that shit t’ya’, it ain’t right. Y’c’n stay wit’ us, we’ll protect ya’, though I reckon y’ve learned how to do that yer’self, yeah?” Without waiting for a response, he’d nod to himself and fall into silence. It’s about as much as he can bring himself to say without ripping his own wounds wide open. You shuffle closer to him, sat together are you on the sofa, and an arm slings itself around your shoulders. If you happen to melt into his chest, then who is Bo to say anything? He does things in the dead of night he’d never want shared with the world (his brothers and you, to an extent), too.
Vincent had already clocked the signs that your family mistreats/neglects/abuses you long before you tell him yourself so his reaction isn’t anything much. That’s not to say that he doesn’t care, because he’s starting to/he does (depending on how long you’ve been in Ambrose; he’s the Sinclair you have to devote the most time and energy and effort into becoming friendly with. Bo and Lester are won over more easily than Vincent, though Lester is by far the easiest of the three to connect with), it’s just that Vincent didn’t really need to be told and the overwhelming air around him just screams, “yeah?”. It’s quite anticlimactic, really, you building up all this courage to tell Vin something and he’s just like, … and? He knows the signs; he’s the most aware and in touch with reality of the three brothers, he knows the reality of who they are and their situation in life and he knows the things none of them dare to voice because then it makes them real, and his reaction is definitely underwhelming but almost a relief because all you find is acceptance and non-judgement. Vin cares but he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. He’s just like, okay, you were mistreated/neglected/abused and so were we and you’re here with us for life so you may as well become a part of the family. He doesn’t say any of this to you because he knows - most especially depending on what kind of mistreatment etc. you face from your family - that actions speak louder than words. So he starts to invite you to pick the film on film nights, he starts to let you pick what’s for dinner, he starts to ask you to do things for him which you both know he could very very easily do himself but he’s giving you an olive branch to connect with him. Take it, please please take it, because you can only say no so many times before he stops bothering and once that branch is retracted, you’re never gonna get it back and you’ll forever be distant from Vin, and that’s gonna affect your relationships with the other two brothers as well.
And Lester… hm. I’ve been thinking of Lester while writing the twins’ sections and I’m struggling to place how he would react, but given how in canon he’s so desperate for connection with people and he just wants to tell jokes and share stories and the like, I feel like he’d react the ‘best’ out of the three Sinclairs. Not initially dismissive and then begrudgingly opening up to you like Bo, not underwhelming in his response to your bravery before extending an olive branch like Vincent, but genuinely genuinely feeling just a bit closer to you all the more for the fact that you have shared experiences with him. Two people in the exact same situation will have different thoughts, reactions and feelings to it because no two people are the same and the same experience shared by two people is actually two different experiences because everything is subjective, but Lester will still feel closer to you because there’s gonna be some understanding between the both of you and though it’s not… the healthiest of common grounds to have, it’s still common ground and Lester will most definitely jump on it and start inviting you everywhere with him; anything you want, anywhere you wanna go (within a twenty mile radius of Ambrose because he may have his own place, truck and job but Lester is STILL a Sinclair and he’s trapped in the situation just as much as his brothers are); he’ll do because he wants to make you happy. That makes HIM happy in turn and then as a result, the twins like you more because LESTER likes you and congrats you’re a Sinclair, even though you might not know it yet!
As for Jonesy, no matter what you’ve been through with your family, she doesn’t care so long as you give her ear scritches, more kissies than she can return, throw her some food when you’re making some (as long as she can eat it!), and let her lay on your lap whenever you’re sitting down. If you give her the love she deserves, she’ll give you the same in return x 10 and it makes the brothers MELT.
They adopt you into their family, is the point of this post, lmao.
#tw; suicidal thoughts#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair#lester sinclair x reader#house of wax#house of wax x reader#slasher fic#slasher community#slasher x reader
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Drunken Encounters
(part II)
note: this is a little more fluffy than i had anticipated, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless !
warnings: [ emetophobia, swearing, mentions of smut, mentions of s.a ]
word count: 1715
read part 1 here
When you woke up the next day, your head was spinning. You had to blink the black spots out of your eyes, and practically fought to sit up. You hadn’t felt this hungover in ages. You allotted yourself a little extra time to get out of bed, as you lay in limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness. Memories were all swirling together, from dancing to cliché 90s music, to the mortal girl you made out with in the bar, and finally ending up at the mortuary door. However, there was a deep seeded feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach- something you couldn’t quite place your finger on. Just then, your stomach lurched, and you had just enough time to lean over the bed and throw up into the bucket at your side. How did that bucket get there, you wondered? You brushed it off, figuring you’d have plenty of time to think when you fully regained consciousness , and made your way to the bathroom. Upon looking at yourself in mirror— seeing your smeared eyeshadow, smudged red lips and swollen, puffy eyes— you pieced together that you had had a rough night.
“My fucking head…” you groaned as you reached into the cabinet to take a few aspirin. “What happened?”
More of your senses were awakening, slowly, and you caught a whiff of yourself.
“Ugh, sweet Satan,” you muttered, swallowing back a bit of your own vomit as you turned the shower on.
You undressed, stepped in the shower, and allowed the steam and hot water to open up the rest of your blocked senses. The shower acted as a catalyst towards sobriety, and once you stepped out, you had enough sense to walk in a straight line and to get dressed.
You made yourself look presentable, at the very least, and decided it might be best to wander into the kitchen. You hadn’t thrown up in a while and thought maybe some food would help clear your head of its fog.
“Good afternoon, love,” Hilda called as she saw your head peek into the entryway. “We missed you at breakfast, but you’re just in time for pie.”
“Pie? I missed breakfast?”
“I’m afraid so, dear. It’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon..”
“Two o’clock? Why didn’t someone wake me? I mustn’t have set my alarm, I—“
“Slow down, Y/N.” It was Ambrose who spoke now, lifting his head out of the book he was reading. He was perched in a chair at the dinner table, feet perched up on it. “It’s Sunday. Plus, we heard you had quite the night last night. Auntie Zee told us to go easy on you,” he added, cheekily, before burying his nose back in his book.
“Ambrose,” Hilda chided lightly.
Your body stiffened when he mentioned Zelda, and some memories soon came flooding back, the familiar feeling of dread creeping upon you.
“And, ah…where is Zelda, at the moment?”
“She’s at the academy, love” Hilda informed, pulling a lovely looking pie out of the oven.
“Father Blackwood called her to a meeting. She said she’ll be back ‘round suppertime.”
“Oh…Well, I needed to talk to her about something.”
“Whatever it is can wait until after you’ve tried some of my pie, I’m sure. It looks positively delightful, doesn’t it?” she asked, giddily.
Her excitement caused you to smile slightly, and you couldn’t help but to indulge her. You grabbed a slice and sat down at the table with Ambrose. The taste of the pie was exquisite, and you were almost sure Hilda had enchanted it. Your worry had ceased to exist, by the time you had finished.
The rest of the day was spent doing menial chores for the family. You helped Hilda clean the kitchen, tidied up the mortuary, and even helped tend to the garden, for a short while. After having dinner, Hilda asked if you could help her tidy that up, as well. You agreed, always eager to please the family that took you in. As you were drying dishes, you heard the front door open. Your dread instantly came back, and your blood ran cold when you heard the sound of Zelda’s heels clicking against the wooden floor.
“Hilda, I do hope there are some leftovers. I’m absolutely famished,” Zelda began, taking a puff of her cigarette. “Oh, hello, Y/N.”
She regarded you with pleasantry, and it drove you mad. Throughout the day, you had managed to put together the missing pieces from your memory. You knew what you had told Zelda, and it almost felt as though she was mocking you.
“I can finish cleaning, Hilda,” you said, placing the drying towel down on the counter.
“Well, if you’re sure. Dr. Cee has been wanting to see me all week, so this will be absolutely lovely. Thank you so much.” She grinned at you and was already practically out the door, bouncing with excitement.
Once Hilda left, you placed a plate of warmed leftovers in front of Zelda and took a seat across from her.
“Thank you,” Zelda said, plainly.
Silence consumed the room as Zelda ate, and you were growing increasingly tense. However, you were not one to run away from a conflict— no matter how embarrassing it was— without talking about it, at the very least.
After a few more rounds of vexatious silence, you blurted, “Um, about last night. I’ve had all day to think about it, and I just wanted to apologize...”
She looked up at you, a straight expression on her face that was rather hard for you to read.
“I accept your apology,” she stated simply, and took another bite.
“That’s it?”
“Well, no, that’s not it. We have to take into consideration new means of exchange for your staying here. But I do appreciate the apology.”
Was she not getting it? You wondered, did she not understand that this wasn’t about your workload, or was she purposely trying to ignore it? You kept to yourself for a while longer, and this time, Zelda broke the silence.
“How was the rest of your night? You were in quite a lamentable state when I left you.”
“What? Oh, ah, I threw up for probably another hour after you left, though I can hardly remember. But, ugh, I couldn’t care less about that, Zee. Right now, I’m trying to talk about the other lamentable thing. What I said, about fucking you.”
Her eyes widened at your crudeness, and even you were taken back by your sudden urgency.
“Oh…” it clearly made her uncomfortable, as she averted her eyes when the subject was brought up. Zelda then took a deep breath and pushed her plate out of her way.
“The manner in which it was brought up was terribly embarrassing, and I despise feeling that way. But, there was some truth to it, I must admit.”
You blinked the surprise out of your eyes, staring at her in disbelief.
“Some truth to it?”
“Mm, yes...Perhaps I was so embarrassed because I found the idea rather pleasant, even though it felt wrong. Also, I thought you were mocking me, at first. I do find my eyes lingering on you, from time to time. And I was, perhaps, too indisposed to admit it.”
You were staring at her intently now, your teeth nervously gnawing on your bottom lip.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“What’s that?”
“That you want to fuck me too?”
Zelda let out a deep chuckle at your attempted humor.
“Perhaps put less crudely.. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m rather repentant that this matter was not discussed sooner. It’s foolish of me to deny it any longer. I do have feelings for you, too.”
You were shocked, your mouth left slightly agape. Zelda took your hands from across the table, giving them a gentle squeeze.
She continued, “I just thought it would be rather inappropriate to have relations with an employee-carnal or otherwise- but if you feel as though it could work, I could be so inclined as to take your opinion into consideration. And, besides, you are much more than an employee now.”
A smirk played on her lips, and you took this as an invitation to stand and walk over to her.
“May I?” You asked, looking down at her lap.
She hesitated, just momentarily before nodding and biting her lip. You straddled the older witch, cupping her face gently in your hands before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
“Well, my opinion is yes. If that wasn’t obvious already.” You giggled, and Zelda smiled tenderly. This is the most relaxed you had felt in weeks. As you leaned into her embrace, you smelt the intoxicating mix of cigarettes and rosemary upon her clothing. Zelda’s touch was warm and gentle, and you could have easily imagined yourself lying in her arms for the rest of the night.
“I never thought that it would end like this,” you murmured, against her lips after kissing her again.
She hummed in response, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears as she cupped your cheek in return.
“Nor did I, but I’m glad it is. Your lips are as soft as I had imagined.”
You blushed, letting out a soft giggle into her lips.
“You’ve imagined what my lips felt like before?”
“More often than I should like to admit.”
You moaned as she rested her hands on your thighs.
“Eager little witch,” she teased gently, which caused you to whine in response.
“You have no idea how long I’ve kept this to myself, Zee..”
“Well, you no longer have to.”
She pulled you in for another kiss, letting her tongue run over your bottom lip.
“Ambrose and Sabrina are still home,” you reminded.
“Right. And Satan knows how long Hilda will be gone,” Zelda added. “Shall we continue upstairs?”
You nodded altogether too eagerly, which caused Zelda to chuckle. You moved off of her lap and she stood, offering you her hand. You took it and together, walked up the stairs, to your bedroom to continue where you had left off. This could be the start of something that you had been wanting for as long as you had known her. Perhaps you could finally call her your Zelda.
tags: [ @hallospaceboyy ]
#caos#sabrina spellman#chilling adventures of sabrina#zelda spellman#zelda spellman x reader#hilda#hilda spellman#fic#caos fic#caos fandom#ambrose spellman
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Slashers with an eating disordered S/O
Request: Helloooo, can I make the request for Bubba, Jason, Brahms, the Sinclair bros (if you write about them) with an s / o who has an eating disorder? Sorry if I bother you :( Thank u so much, love ❤️
(Sensitive content ahead! I wasn't sure which disorder you wanted me to do, so I did different headcanons for different ones. I only have personal experience with Bulimia and OSFED, so let me know if my portrayal of any of the others is wrong or offensive. Sorry it's short.)
I use ED terminology and talk about behaviors, but not in detail. If this is triggering for you please don't read it. I want you guys to feel safe and heard, but I don't want to encourage any sort of behaviors.
PLEASE CALL THE NATIONAL EATING DISORDER ASSOCIATION(NEDA) HELPLINE IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE IS STRUGGLING +1-800-931-2237
Slashers can't love you if you're dead.
~•~
Bubba: S/O with BED(Binge Eating Disorder)
-He doesn't notice at first, let's be honest.
-He hasn't had much experience with EDs in his life, and he doesn't watch all that much TV. Even if he did, it's not like he'd get anything helpful from it.
-You'll have to be the one to tell him for him to do anything about it.
-When you first explain what's happening, he is really confused. So you just like to eat?
-You have to explain that, no, it's not like that. You can't really control your intake sometimes, and it can feel really scary.
-During a binge, you don't feel in control of your body or your brain. It's horrible.
-Bubba doesn't really understand, but he sees how upset you are and really tries to comfort you.
-If you're ready for recovery, he will do whatever he can to support you.
-If you feel an urge to binge, please go to him!!
-He'll try and fill the void with hugs, kisses, or anything else that might help. Absolutely anything. Especially if said anything involved you naked in your bed.
-He loves you no matter how you look, so don't worry if your ED effects your appearance. He doesn't care. Bubba loves you unconditionally.
-If he can't fill the void, he'll take you out around the house for a walk.
-Destractions can help, right?
-If that doesn't work, he won't stop you.
-If you feel guilty afterwards, Bubba will be your big, warm rock.
-He'll hold you until you stop crying, he'll listen to you vent, and he'll kiss all your fears away.
-If certain foods trigger you, he will ask that Drayton try and keep them from the house.
-This might mean that you have to tell Drayton.
-If you do, he won't really get it, but he's grown find of you and thinks of you as family, so he's willing to try so long as it isn't a staple or something that he is personally a big fan of.
-He's not an ass, just uneducated.
-Bubba tries his best to support you in bad days, even if all he can do is give you a huge bear hug.
-This big boy loves you with all of his big heart and all he wants is for you to be happy.
Jason S/O: with Bulimia Nervosa
-Like Bubba, Jason has never heard of eating disorders before.
-At most, he's heard some teens make jokes about them, but he didn't have the context for what they were saying and he didn't care as they were about three seconds from horny hell.
-He actually catches you doing behaviors, take your pick, but you lie to him.
-Of course you feel bad doing so, but you justify it.
-Eating disorders fuck with our sense of right and wrong, and they can really ruin relationships.
-You tell him that you have a stomach bug, or a vomiting disorder, or you were just extra hungry, or you have a fast metabolism.
-He believes you.
-He trusts you.
-He loves you.
-But he knows something isn't quite right.
-One night, though, he sees a teenager acting like you do.
-Jason watches as they eat some chips, and some cake, and some cookies, and some more cake. He watches as they dig through their friends trash when they aren't looking, and he sees you in them.
-Behaviors are hard to hide when you live with someone for so long.
-He watches as they go into the woods, away from the party, and take care of what they ate.
-He watches as one of their friends comes out and asks them about something called 'bulimia'.
-His heart aches.
-Jason isn't stupid, as much as some like to say he is.
-He confronts you about it.
-He comes into your cabin after disposing of the teens, tears streaming out from under his mask.
-Signing, he questions you about it.
-Please don't try to lie to him again. You'll break his heart.
-He doesn't know how to help you, but he tries his hardest.
-He doesn't bring in foods he's seen you get triggered by, and he makes sure to support you emotionally, too.
-Eating disorders aren't about the food, or your appearance.
-They're emotional.
-It's about fulfilling a need you don't otherwise have met.
-And Jason will do everything in his power to meet your needs.
-He'll ask you to go to a therapist, or at least a support group. Please go.
-If you died, it would destroy him.
-Keep the both of you alive.
-Recovery isn't linear, and he won't hold slip ups against you. Just be honest with him and go to him before or after an episode. He'll understand.
-He'll stay up all night holding you if it means keeping you safe.
-Or if he feels like it.
-Jason loves and accepts you wholly.
Brahms: S/O with ARFID(Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder)
-Brahms notices IMMEDIATELY.
-The first meal he watches you prepare for yourself, which was, naturally, your first meal in the house, he sees how distressed you get at the food selection.
-His parents being high society, he isn't all together unfamiliar with the concept of eating disorders, but he definitely thinks you have Anorexia at first.
-This leads him to putting out extra food for you, and getting frustrated when you don't eat it.
-He understands a little bit about them but doesn't fully get why you can't just eat.
-He sees you standing in the kitchen, looking panicked or scared, staring into the cupboard, and his heart breaks.
-Brahms feels a little bad, because he knows you're only in there because you're getting food for him, and he sees how well you stick to the rules outside of meal times.
-Once you get the first grocery delivery, though, he calms down a bit.
-You order a lot of your safe foods, or drinks, and he sees that you don't have a problem eating some foods.
-Once you start eating a little more regularly he gets more relaxed. Even though he knows that only eating a small variety of foods isn't healthy, he's just pleased to see you eating at all.
-Brahms is inherently curious, though, and he does a bit of research.
-He has an iPhone in the walls with him. You can't tell me otherwise.
-When he figures out that you likely have ARFID, he changes his approach.
-Brahms actually comes out of the walls for the first time during either a meal time panic attack, or if something you ate makes you ill.
-He read that nausea and involuntary vomiting are common symptoms of ARFID.
-He rubs your back, and tries to calm you down.
-Doesn't really work at first, as he's a tall ass dude that just walked out of your walls, but he tries to explain.
-And, you couldn't have been living there for months without noticing someone was there with you. Only an idiot would think that the doll was haunted and get scared when a big man comes out of the wall to comfort or save you.
-You grow close really quickly, and he makes you feel seen in a way you haven't really before.
-He sets you up with a dietician and a psychologist who you can video chat with, but he picks carefully as he doesn't want you getting too attached.
-It's Brahms.
-He helps you with challenge foods, actively participates in recovery spaces online, and he gives you space if you need it.
-He may be a little brat sometimes, but he can usually tell the time and place.
-If you struggle being around food that isn't safe, and that affects your ability to feed him on time, he doesn't hold it against you. So long as he does get fed. A hungry boy isn't a happy boy.
-Brahms is the most educated slasher out of this bunch and he works hard to make you feel safe and loved.
Bo Sinclair: S/O with Anorexia Nervosa
-Bo is a bit of a jerk sometimes.
-That's just a fact about him.
-But he's a jerk who genuinely loves you. And he knows something is wrong.
-Ambrose is a small town, to say the least, so he knows basically where you are and what you're doing at all times.
-Or rather, what you're not doing.
-He sees you're not eating enough. He's not blind.
-At first he brushes it off as just you being silly, or being on a diet, or whatever.
-Until he catches you one day, sitting alone at the table, holding a cookie in your hand, and just crying.
-You stared at it, and he heard your stomach growl.
-You were crying so hard.
-It nearly broke him on the spot.
-Course, he wouldn't let you know that.
-He reacted by basically just not doing anything for several weeks. Just observing your behaviors and your reactions to food.
-One dinner, though, when you had a 'stomach ache', he called you out on it.
-There was a pretty big fight, a lot of tears on your part, and a lot of fear on his.
-You had to calm him down, first, but when you did you tried your best to explain.
-You couldn't just eat. It wasn't that simple.
-For the first time in your relationship, he asked you in depth about your feelings. Bo wants an answer as to why you're doing this to yourself.
-What he really wants to know, though, is how could you do this to him.
-Sure, he's not the most available guy.
-At all.
-But you should know he loves you.
-From then on, he tries his best to encourage you to try fear foods, and he does what he can to be there for you during it.
-He convinces you to see a dietician in the next town over.
-Bo drives you every week without fail.
-He knows you won't get better immediately, but he won't stop trying to help you until you do.
Vincent Sinclair: S/O with OSFED(Otherwise Specified Feeding/Eating Disorder)
-Another slasher who knows nothing about eating disorders.
-This is another one you'd have to tell him about, as the symptoms of OSFED can vary wildly from person to person, and he has only heard of Anorexia from tv or tourists.
-From his world experience, there's no way you could have an eating disorder.
-He might see somethings off when meal times come around.
-Table behaviors can be pretty hard to hide.
-But he won't confront you about it.
-When he thinks something might be up, he'll make an effort to be more affectionate or loving, thinking maybe you're just dieting or feeling insecure.
-You tell him after one particularly hard day.
-You go down into his work shop in tears.
-He sees you standing in the doorway, crying and shaking, and walks over to give you a hug.
-Burying your face in his chest, you tried to calm down.
-The smell of the wax and the feeling of his hand rubbing your hair in comfort helped sooth you, and you pulled away from him.
-He kept his hands on your shoulders and looked into your face.
-His first worry was that you had maybe gotten hurt, or Bo had said something to you that was upsetting.
-You broke down and explained everything.
-You explained your compulsions with food/your fears and restrictive behaviors/your shame eating/your occasional binging and purging/poor self image.
-You tried to express how hard it was to deal with this and how tired you were.
-You just had a really bad day with it today.
-Vincent doesn't really react. He's kind of in shock.
-You take his lack of acknowledgement as judgement, and start to apologise for being sick, and for telling him you were.
-He puts a hand over your mouth and presses a kiss to your forehead.
-From that point on, anytime anyone made any comments about your appearance or your food, he shut that shit down.
-He made an extra effort to reassure you physically and to comfort you during hard meals.
-If you slip up, or if you need extra help, he completely understands.
-He will do anything for you.
-Theres a lot of hard nights, days, and everything in between, but Vincent is your rock. He holds you steady during the turbulence of recovery, and he's never gonna let go.
#i wasnt sure if you wnated lester too#it was taking so long already im sorry ;-;#ill add him if you want#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair#ed tw#slasher community#slasher headcanons#ed cw#recovery#jason voorhees#bubba sawyer#brahms heelshire
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( dylan minnette, cis male, he/him ) have you heard about KELLAN RICCI? they’re a 21 year old INTERN in the NEWS team. i don’t know what their last job was, all i know is that they’re originally from BOSTON, MA. carol in hr said that they’re kinda IMPULSIVE and SARCASTIC but jessica in marketing insists that they are HONEST and DILIGENT. at the end of the day, no one is worthy of the instant hype here. i just hope they get to achieve their dream of being A JOURNALIST one day. According to the latest Vibez quiz, their Disney soulmate is PRINCE ERIC.
heyyyyy nicole again and this is kellan!! (this is a sideblog to brady so kellan will not follow u back, don’t take it personally xoxoxo). his STATS PAGE with lots more stuff is here.
again, im unfortunately not really here here for opening, so i might not see tumblr messages immediately. you can add me on discord ( john ambrose mcclaren#1627 ) and hmu there to plot and everything!! or ill get back to u here later. i put some very basic connections ideas at the bottom of brady’s intro that apply to kellan too but id love to just plot based on our muses specifically! so yay ok here we go:
background
kellan is the oldest of three children, born to nico and vanessa ricci in boston, MA. nico is a nurse and vanessa is a veterinarian, so they both work a lot and have since kellan was young. it’s not a big deal, though; they’re good parents and do a lot for kellan and his 2 younger sisters.
all around the riccis are a pretty typical family. growing up, his parents always made sure to have Family Time™ when they weren’t working and the five of them could all be together. they’re really open and kellan always knew that he could tell them stuff if he needed to. but you know, as far as being a kid goes, he never had much he wanted to tell. they trusted him, though, and it’s not like they were home often enough to see what he was doing anyway.
as for his 2 younger sisters — one is close in age to him (this is a wanted connection so check that out !!). they grew up as very normal siblings, close one minute and hating each other the next, but now that they’re older, ofc kellan loves her and definitely feels closer to her than to his parents. then there’s their 14-year-old sister (obvs npc). kellan of course has the inherent desire to protect and be there for both of his sisters at all times.
when he reached a certain age, kellan thinks he probably just...got bored. so he started to act out a little. not much at first, just skipping a class here and there or going out way too late with his friends, but it escalated a bit as time went on. by the time kellan was in high school, he was def a bit of a delinquent. he and his friends would shoplift just for fun, or fuck with people purely for entertainment. he’s mostly grown out of that (especially after a certain incident in college where kellan very narrowly avoided legal trouble), but he still likes to cause a lil trouble. get a lil crazy. be a lil silly. maybe he still likes to light stuff on fire, idk, ask him not me.
fun facts and info!!
contrary to the fact that he is Dumb, he has always loved reading and writing. he has plans of becoming a journalist so he’s also working a lot on photography (to get good shots for articles), and often has a camera around his neck to practice that.
he initially started as an intern in the entertainment team, but he didn’t end up moving up in that department, so he transferred over to the news team and is interning all over again. a lil salty abt that, don’t txt.
he kind of gives off sk8r boi vibes, but he absolutely does not know how to skate. he owns a skateboard though. and sometimes he’ll carry it and never ride it. mind ya business.
his hair is absolutely always dyed fun colors (thank you dylan minnette for ur service), so it’ll probably fall out before he turns 30. currently it’s blue!
he is wildly bisexual. very much happy and open about that.
he’s def very ~in touch with his feelings~ so he and his homies say real men cry and that’s that on that.
he’s super romantic, but it all depends on the other person. he’ll do a lot to make someone he loves smile but won’t go all out if that isn’t their jam ya know? he’s good at reading people (and also just straight up asking, and that’s on healthy communication).
he knows when to tone things down and keep certain things private, but for the most part he really enjoys saying his piece/just being heard. so the journalism thing makes sense, really. like, listen to ME specifically talk about this thing. but of course that mindset has and will likely continue to get him into some shit lol. being too showy can get u in trouble. keep ya MOUTH shut, ricci.
omg beep beep ricci
i can’t think of toooo much else to add right now? i believe that is the essence of him and as i figure out more i will speak on it.
some aesthetics i think of for him (while i work on his pinterest board): worn out converse, laying on the roof at midnight staring at the stars, dogs wearing sunglasses, asking for nudes via nintendo DS pictochat, one of those spinning colorful disco ball lights.
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can we get a “do not despair” post for spellwood too?? feeling pretty sad after part 3 and would really like to hear how they could turn it around
Sure! Strap in - this is gonna take some turns. And if Spellwood/Blackwood ain’t your thing, just leave m8 - it’s not for you.
Right. So.
Honestly, at this point - the only thing keeping anything about this ship afloat in canon is their history. We know they have one, but we don’t know much about it. I had really hoped, since they had cast an actor to play young!Faustus, that meant we’d be getting a backstory. But apparently, all we were getting was a 20 second scene that reveals very little.
However, it does reveal something.
1. The book Faustus had was clearly referencing old world Gods & goddesses and it would seem - his interest/study of the mystical (i.e. eldritch terrors) dated back to when he was a boy. Along with pretty much everything else about him, I would very much like to know WHY he had the desire to study that. Why was he so desperately searching for power at such a young age? And why was he looking for it beyond the religion he was born into, which gave him the gift of magick and promised limitless power to the “worthy” already? In essence - Faustus, WHO HURT YOU. Considering his view of women, I’m gonna guess whoever hurt him was one. Maybe his mother? Maybe both of his parents? Idk, but the little shit definitely got fucked over somewhere in his youth by someone he probably trusted. Said it before and I’ll say it again - he practically screams ‘child abuse victim’ (a la Draco Malfoy, if you need a reference) and I’ll stand by that until I’m proven wrong.
(I was also really struck by the line “that boy knows nothing of true Hell” which Faustus says to Lucifer after Nick beats him in the witch’s cell. What hell has Faustus been through himself in order to say that?)
2. That scene also showed us Zelda & Faustus studied together and were familiar enough with each other to notice a change in attitude (“why are you in such a snit?”) and snipe back & forth from what appears to be a very young age. Which seems to suggest they spent a fair amount of time together at (and possibly before) the Academy. Not a shocking or new revelation really, except it kind of confirms their relationship wasn’t a whirlwind romance and that Faustus asking for Edward’s permission to marry Zelda wasn’t on a whim.
The main questions I have following that scene are if that excerpt he ripped from the book was actually about Hecate and her power. If so, is her power more vast than we even understood by the end of part 3 (i.e. can even she defeat eldritch terrors)? And could the reason Faustus got so upset reading it be that it said only women can call on Hecate, thus thwarting his search for an absolute escape?
Something confirmed about interacting with mystical entities is that they can/will drive you mad. Ambrose says this after Sabrina returns from her quest and finds everyone dead - “Blackwood was driven mad and feral by his insane worship of those eldritch terrors he prays to.”
And if mysticism can drive you mad - and he’s studied/sought these things out since he was a boy - it stands to reason that he’s been slowly feeding and incubating that madness until it finally fucking snapped.
(Side note - an Acheron configuration, which will also drive you mad, is an arcane device from ancient magick, too. So maybe Edward studied these things with Faustus at one point together? Curious.)
We saw him experience a big and sudden shift in part 2 - where his faith in the Church of Night waned with every challenge to his authority by Sabrina. Things had been going along fine the 15 years or so of him being high priest, that maybe he was finally starting to trust his faith in the Lord Satan, until Sabrina showed up and started meddling with the order he’d established. And THEN - in a last ditch effort to take back control and become anti pope, she interferes again and Satan himself doesn’t even seem to care how heretical she’s been.
So back to the eldritch terrors he goes - setting a contingency and pledging his loyalties to them in exchange for protection and power. But they also want an offering (“oh, they like offerings, yes they do”). Proof of loyalty by blood. Solution - poison the coven. Here’s your offering - an entire building’s worth of souls. Bing, bang, boom - “we’ll hide you in this cozy time rift at Loch Ness and siphon every last bit of sanity out of you while you’re there. Oh gosh, they’ve found you and taken our gift egg from you. Well, we can’t have a repeat of that, so while you go pursue it - make sure you get rid of any ties to this reality that you may have. Anything that would hold you back from the glory we’re promising you. Destroy them all, if necessary. The twins can stay ‘cause you’ve raised them to be insane, too, okay off you go!”
But what’s this got to do with Spellwood? Well. The two go hand in hand, the way I see it and here’s where the very small bit of hope for them as a couple (very small) lies.
It’s apparent that, at least somewhere in their history together, Faustus wanted Zelda. She seems to be the only thing about the Spellmans he could ever tolerate and why? Well, perhaps because he cared for her, perhaps they found a common ground in feeling inferior their whole lives (hurt/comfort is kind of their jam), and/or perhaps he just found her attractive (understandable). And if he didn’t have any affection left for her by the time part 2 rolled around, I do not know why he’d continue to pursue her after she cut their physical relationship off. Zelda was going to gain power by marrying the high priest, but there was nothing in it for him beyond... having her as his wife. Which perhaps he truly had wanted since they were young together.
But then he realized it would be more complicated than he thought when Sabrina really amped up her interference with presenting Edward’s manifesto and accusing him of murdering her parents (still never explicitly confirmed, btw) (also still very curious about when he said ‘you haven’t even read mine’ to her at the wedding - makes me wonder if what was in it wasn’t as egregious as the Church of Judas tenants wound up being). And so - he put Zelda under the Caligari spell to keep her from helping her family while he destroyed them once and for all. Except her. ‘Cause he wanted her. Not until he found out she had betrayed him in hiding Leticia did he seek any type of ‘vengeance’ towards her directly. Then, though he was far from sane before, he went well and truly mental after that.
So I see it like this - if he was driven mad and used by the eldritch terrors, he didn’t really have a grasp on reality nor would he have understood what he was doing. He wouldn’t remember any earthly affection he might have for someone because his mind would be corrupted by other worldly things. Thus - a conscience, remorse, and reparation might be possible if they’re able to restore some humanity back to him.
It’s a long shot... by a lot, but in the same way Sabrina told Nick he couldn’t have known what he was doing while under the influence of the Dark Lord’s essence (which we can certainly open a healthy dialogue about taking responsibility for your actions no matter what you’re going through/under the influence of *clears throat*) - so, too, could be the case for Faustus.
If proven as such - and they can additionally confirm some backstory that, at one point, he and Zelda did truly care for each other - it might be possible to salvage the dumpster fire that is their current predicament. If done carefully and with a fuckton of explanation. That’s a lot of built up character history to waste.
(At the very least, just give me an explanation, RAS. I am BEGGING you.)
*slow exhale* Okay, I’m tired. And wow, that’s a whole novel. Okay. Right. Thanks for your question, hope this helped. Bye!
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