#Lester Lies Down

[rozmorris]

Write what you know? Why the true test of authenticity is the effect on the reader – interview with James Ladd Thomas

Authenticity is a troublesome concept in the arts at the moment. There are things we’re ‘allowed’ to write, things we’re not ‘allowed’ to write. While this raises valuable debates, authors have always written about characters, places and situations outside their personal circumstances and experience, and made works that are honest and truthful. That’s our craft, isn’t it? My interviewee today is…

[rollforjackass]

hellblazer + this uquiz

[everything-is-as-it-was]

The fact that Phil was pressing his finger to his ear where there is Clearly Not a headset of any kind is really funny to me

[talentforlying]

priest: i don't, ah, quite know what to say to you. if you are in such terrible danger, why are you taking it all so calmly? constantine: hmh! i dunno, father. i had a bloke beaten to a pulp earlier this evening. that sound calm to you? priest: you did what...? constantine: i must've been off me bleedin' rocker. i've never done anything like it before in me life, y'know?

constantine: but there's header gets his guts blown out, and george is stickin' his head in the noose, and helen gets ... jesus, then friggin' sarah bites me head off — ! everything's coming to bits in me hands and it's so easy to just see red and now, shit, they could've killed the tosser for all i know! and now i'm just like the bastards i've hated all me life! kill him! fire him! close them down! piss all over him! screw you, i can do whatever i want! i so much as blink and you're dead, pal! i'm in charge!! ...

constantine: 'scuse me, father. i'm always like this when i don't get me own way. — hellblazer #81, "rake at the gates of hell pt. 4"

babygirl you are just....so, sooooo offputting. (and grieving, and guilty, and terrified, but yeah: offputting.)

anyway, it's issues like this one that remind me why i kind of hesitate over some of the retcons in the recent spurrier runs, like the one with him now having opened dream's pouch of sand and stolen some before they even met. because like, it's easy enough to look at john constantine now — with 70 years of worst possible choices and unresolved trauma crystallizing underneath his skin to cover up all the soft, hopeful bits where he's used to getting hit — and assign him arbiter of ill intentions, magus of wasted potential, saint of shit choices, but man . . . he was new to this, once. he was still new to this 80 issues in.

80 issues in, and he's not used to losing friends yet; he even has time enough between catastrophes to grieve each individual one. still has enough left to live for at this stage to necessitate running and hiding, instead of bodily throwing himself at the problem like he learns to later, or sitting apathetically by to do nothing except smoke and watch the world fall apart when he finally gives up. fuck, he still apologizes.

and you're telling me this guy, this soppy wet cat motherfucker hiding from the devil in a church basement, so guilty over not knowing what happened to the guy that he paid people (paid chas, so chas could pay people) to attack that the bottle he's holding in this scene isn't even his second or third........this guy's past, more innocent self lied right to the face of DREAM OF THE ENDLESS and got away with it?

hm. i just don't know about all that.

[loveandmurders]

Hey I love your writing I know your busy at the moment but do you think you could do something like Missing piece but with Sinclair Daughter!reader where reader got taken by csp or something and they come back with their adopted family.

Hello love! Thank you so much for this request <3 I had so much fun writing for this that I did a little series in which you are Bo's daughter and you got taken away by your mother and then by social care.

I really hope that you'll enjoy it! <3

THE SUN OF AMBROSE (Part I)

Warnings: ANGST and more ANGST, no proof reading, mute!reader, mentions of suicide, death and violence, quick mentions of domestic violence, difficult childhood, sadness, despair and anger

“Are you alright, hon? What are you thinking about?” your adoptive mother asked you.

You were sitting on the porch, looking into the distance. She sat next to you as you shrugged.

“Are you not cold?” she asked you again and you shook your head. She kissed the top of your head before getting up.

“Don’t stay here for too long, ok? You need to get some rest too” she hummed and you nodded. You waited for her to come back inside before laying down on the ground, looking at the sky. 

You were silent now, almost completely mute.

You hadn’t always been like that though. When you were a young child, you were chatting around all the time. You were babbling to Lester about the nicest insects you saw or about what art project you started with Vincent. You were also happily asking questions to your dad about absolutely anything because you were certain that Bo had to know everything. You were telling all your little secrets to Vincent because you trusted him with them and your feelings. You were laughing around with your mother as she was cracking jokes for you. You were happy, you were solar. You were “the sun of Ambrose” as your uncles and father would call you. 

The Sinclairs couldn’t imagine a day without you; your presence was making everything so much better. You were too young to realise what your family was doing with the tourists, but you knew it was bad because your parents didn't want you out of the house when people were coming in. And Vincent needed to authorise you into the basement before you could come down. Your father always told you he would explain everything to you when you were a big girl, and you accepted this answer because Bo never lied to you before. You were aware that everytime people were coming in, there were new sculptures in the House of Wax though. 

But you were happy and loved; and when you are a child, it really all that matters. You couldn’t wait to be a grown up so you could help your dad with his business, but other than that, everything was perfect for you.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

Things had changed so much. You didn’t live in Ambrose and you often wondered if the House of Wax was still doing good, if your family was still doing good. You wondered if they missed you like you missed them. A hole inside your chest was constantly making you feel sick, but you couldn't do anything about it. No one could do anything about it.

You missed the nickname of “the sun of Ambrose” quite a lot too. The little necklace around your neck, in the form of a sun, was there to give you some comfort.This jewel has been a gift from your parents when you were 7 years old. And you have never removed it since then. 

And you wouldn’t now because it was the only thing left from your previous life. You weren’t even called a Sinclair anymore. It was as if everything had been a dream and you woke up pretty roughly when you were 9.

You didn’t truly remember everything that happened. You just knew that everything was going alright, you were safe in your family’s arms, you were loved, you were happy. And the next morning, your mother was gently waking you up.

She told you she needed you to come with her, that she had planned a secret birthday gift for your father and you were part of it. Didn’t your father call you “the best thing life ever gifted him” after all?

However, you needed to stay quiet, so no one would notice you were both leaving the house, so early on this Sunday morning. You obeyed your mother, no matter how hard it was for you to stay fully quiet, but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise for Bo. You were softly giggling behind your hand, innocent of what was truly happening. You left the house with your mother. She settled you in her car and drove away. You were getting curious as you were going away from Ambrose. You used to leave Ambrose only to go to Lester’s place or to go look for road kills with your uncle, but you never went so far away. Your mother wasn’t answering your questions either. You started to get upset with her and you wanted to come back home. It wasn’t fun anymore. 

At some point, she stopped in front of a big building and asked you to stay there. You obeyed again because you used to trust the adults in your life, fidgeting with your fingers and the rime of your cute little dress. You saw your mother entering the building and you felt uneasy. You weren’t too sure what kind of gift it was, but you wanted to come home very quickly. You hoped your mother let at least know Vincent or Lester where you were. A little voice inside your head told you that they couldn’t know, otherwise you wouldn’t be there. But you left the house very easily, so they had to know, right? Or maybe Vincent and Bo were too exhausted from the hunt of the day before, and Lester wasn’t home, to notice you were gone with your mother.

You jumped when you heard a gunshot and screams coming from inside the building. You knew those sounds quite well, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like usual. You weren’t at home, you weren’t safe. You looked for your mother’s phone but you didn’t find it. You started to worry so you got out of the car and started to look around. You didn’t know what to do. Fear took possession of you when people you didn’t know ran to you. You were so terrified you didn’t fly away. You wouldn’t have been able to go far anyway, not under the burning sun, not with your cute little shoes and cute little dress. You silently prayed for your father to come get you soon.

You didn’t remember much of this moment, all happened in a quick blurr. You just remembered how terrifying it was that there were so many people checking on you and asking you questions. You told them you wanted your dad and your mom and you started to cry. No one listened to you and your dad never came to get you.

It was the last time you ever used your voice, after that, you grew mute. You cried even more when they took you away from the car and brought you inside the building. You were in an unfamiliar world, full of people who had no love for you. You were alone and powerless in the middle of adults who weren’t always nice to you. You were living your worst nightmare, without any hope to wake up anytime soon.

You spent days, weeks, months being asked questions about yourself, your family and where you came from. From those interrogations, you understood quite a few things:

No one knew anything about you, not even that you existed. You were like a ghost. Y/N Sinclair wasn’t registered anywhere. Actually, officially, there were no more Sinclair in the region. They disappeared like Ambrose disappeared from the maps. But why would the world need to know about you, when Ambrose was already your world?

Your mother went into the social care centre, told them she brought with her her child who was in danger, because your father was a killer. She told them the Sinclairs were abusive and violent people. Then she killed herself with a gun she stole from Bo. You didn’t know if it was true that the Sinclairs were abusive to her, because you never saw them hurting her. Maybe they hid this dark side of them from you because you were their heir. You didn’t believe your father was a killer though, how could he be when he loved you so much?

Your father always told you to keep Ambrose a secret, no matter what. He knew you would go to college or to university at some point - even if he wasn’t too happy with the idea - so he needed to make sure you wouldn’t say anything. It was the only promise you ever made to him, so when people started to ask you questions, you knew you had to stay silent or you would put your family in danger. And you didn’t want anything to happen to your father and uncles, otherwise how could they come get you and save you from this hell?

You had never cried so much in your life before, and now it was the only thing making people stop asking you questions. They did physical tests to make sure your mutism was psychological, which it was. They truly believed you were so shocked by what happened in your life, that you couldn’t talk anymore. However, the fact you already knew ASL - thanks to Vincent - made them wonder. The fact you refused to say anything about the Sinclairs too. You were a mystery no one seemed able to solve, a mystery that didn’t want to be solved actually.

You were relieved when you realised that even the police couldn’t find Ambrose, and hence your family. You didn’t understand when the police told you you had been sequestrated by your father. Yes, you used to be homeschooled, but you were happy. And no one ever hurt you before. And your father always told you that the rest of the world was a threat and dangerous for you. You believed him and now you could see how right he was.

You didn’t even cry for your mother’s death, because she betrayed you, your father and the family. And your father told you that family was everything and that you were everything to him. You were proud to be his daughter, his heir, his legacy. 

Now, you were nothing.

You didn’t know if the Sinclairs knew what happened. But after several months, you guessed they had no idea where you were or they would have already got you back home. You would never know how Bo reacted when he saw his daughter gone, how he broke everything in Ambrose out of pure pain, how Vincent grew even more merciless to tourists, how Lester never asked himself anymore if it was alright to kill people. Killers without their sun only grew even more destructive.

Bo never stopped bringing gifts for you in your bedroom; a bedroom he never touched since your departure. Everything was like you left it, because he was still hoping all of this was a nightmare. Or maybe he was dead and this was hell and his personal punishment. If only he was truly dead, he thought more than once.

At some point, people stopped asking you questions, but you stayed silent, as if something died inside of you, or at least stayed in Ambrose. Talking was betraying your family, and you couldn’t be a traitor like your mother.

Life has been happy and easy. Now things were different. 

You moved from place to place, from family to family. You were lucky enough to never be abused, but there was no joy and no laughter in your life anymore. Life was rough and children growing up around you, even rougher. The worst were the adults of course, because they thought they knew everything about you when they knew nothing. They thought you were a traumatised little girl, they thought you were a lost darling whose mother found social care before killing herself in front of everyone. They thought you were broken.

Two years later, you finally got adopted. 

Everyone said you were so lucky to get adopted away so quickly and that you should be grateful that a couple decided to take you with them. You weren’t sure you were happy about it or not. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about your real parents. 

You never stopped wondering why your mother did what she did. If she wanted to kill herself, she could have done it without bringing you down with her. She might have believed she was saving you from hell. But “hell” was your home, and the only place you wanted to be. Hell was soft to you.

You wondered if your father found a new wife and got a new baby. You knew how important it was for him and your uncle Vincent to have an “heir”. Now you were gone, so they needed to replace you. You couldn’t replace them.

What if they never looked for you and that was why you never saw them again? What if you weren’t that important to them? What if the police found them? What if they got killed because of some tourists?

Those questions were driving you crazy at night and there was nothing you could do about them.

Your adoptive family was good to you though. 

Not good like the Sinclairs used to be, of course, but they tried their best with you. They made sure you were doing good at school and that no one bullied you because of your past, or because you were mute. They learnt ASL for you. 

But they didn’t call you their sun and they didn’t talk about legacy. They didn’t praise you everyday, they didn’t have a limitless amount of patience with you, they didn’t allow you to be fully yourself.

They even forced you to stay calm. 

Sometimes, you could get angry, mad, or violent. Bo would have allowed you to get crazy so you would feel better. But in a normal world, you had to see a doctor and to take meds. But you didn’t want that, you didn’t want to believe you were simply so truly broken, you needed meds to be normal. You didn’t even want to be normal. And more than anything, you were tired of people talking about you in front of you without addressing you, you were tired of the other children whispering in your back, you were tired of people telling you what to do.

You were tired of being a prey when your father promised you you would be a huntress. You kept the anger for you and you let it burn you from the inside. You tried to play the role of the perfect and cute little angel so your parents would stop bringing you to the doctors and they would stop making sure you take your meds.

It worked. Of course, it worked, because you were a smart and dangerous girl. 

You were a Sinclair. And you would forever be one.

However, one day, the anger got too strong.

--

PART II

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Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21

[f1nalboys]

thinking about priest!sinclair brothers...

warning for priest fuckery (obviously), perverting the catholic faith (my bad), corrupting priests, being corrupted by priests, sacreligious shit, spiritual bdsm of sorts, and all the weird icky stuff that comes with me talking about fucking priests. you know. also warning bc i know fuck all about the actual ins and outs of priesthood so... dont be on my dick please <3

priest!lester is the priest you accidentally corrupt. youre in the confessional and youre spilling your sins and hes on the other side of the lattice biting at his lip trying not to imagine all the filthy things you talk about happening to him. you talk about your crush on a priest there, how you touch yourself to the thought of him sometimes, how you know its wrong but you just cant help but work yourself over to the thought of this holy man fucking you until it hurt and lester cums in his pants, his hand over his mouth to keep quiet. he had already been questioning his faith but now he knows hes in the right path; the two of you need each other. you need to be cleansed and he does too, and he knows that together you both will find the light and do just that even if there are some bumps along the way.

priest!vincent is the priest that you are corrupting without even meaning to. he knows what his supposed goal is but then he meets you and leading you to gods light is the last thing on his mind. he wants you. he wants to worship you, not God. he wants to get down on his knees in front of you, look up into your patient and kind eyes, and admit all his transgressions. he is willing to take whatever punishment you give him because he knows salvation lies inbetween your legs and if he holds on just a little longer, if he speaks to you softly, if his touches are soft and quick, you'd be willing to give him that. you'd be willing to allow him to touch you and to worship you and to treat you like a god if he asked sweetly. you might think hes attentive to the rest of the congregation but he isn't. he could close his eyes and pick you out from your scent alone and thats how he knows that he was meant to be your worshipper, your devotee.

priest!bo is the priest that knows hes corrupting you and he loves it. he knows youre a lost member of the flock, that when you came to his small and private office to ask him to speak to you that you were looking to be lead back into the light of gods embrace. he knows that. but he doesnt care. what he cares about is how sweet and innocent you look and how he wants to crush that under his boot. so he tells you that the only way for god to forgive you, really forgive you, is if you listen to every word bo tells you. even when its scary, even when its confusing, even when its innapropriate. when bo tells you to kneel in front of him hes doing it to set you on the right path. when he tells you to take his cock hes doing it to cleanse you from the inside out. when he tells you that you'll have to come back again and again and again until you begin to crave him when youre not there hes doing it because he knows its the only way for god to forgive you. and eventually, one faithful night, he'll get you to admit that you think of him as god and he'll smile, lean down with his hand tilting your head up, and he'll tell you that he is god and that youre the first member of his congregation.

[lains-reality]

hi :) i hope you’re having a wonderful day

you’re literally the only blogger i trust when it comes to non-duality, and your advice has been the one i’ve been most easily able to apply/understand. I hope this doesn’t come off as a vent, but it probably will just because this question is so complicated and problem riddled, and tbh idek if you’re actually going to respond, but yea. it’s like star wars you’re my obi wan kenobi! my last hope lol

basically i’ve put my life on hold and procrastinated everything i’ve needed to do. (TW: death?? health problems/sa?) I went through a really bad year, last year. the human character i identify with (non-dualistic terms, bc ik this character isn’t me?) was sa’d in the beginning of the year. really traumatic. i dropped out of school, i couldn’t go out of the house because i feared for my life. i became super paranoid. i reported it and filed charges, but the justice system is fucked so.

anyways, after because the amount of stress i was experiencing, i became very ill. my biological father wished death on me, and i believed it at the time, because my sibling wished for me to get raped, and then it happened. i can see now, how my belief may or may not have been the cause of what happened. i then got cancer. the doctors couldn’t figure it out for months, and even ridiculed me- saying how i relied on google.

i finally went to a specialist who was immediately concerned, and then confirmed my suspicions. i was sort of friends with a blogger on here who got into the void and manifested their dream life. they went into the void for me and affirmed that i no longer had cancer, and that i could tap/wake up in the void. the next day, the huge lump/tumor on my neck was gone. all of my ailments- trouble breathing, patchy and rough skin ceased. i literally told my mother what happened which made her start believing in the power of “manifestation”.

because of the paranoia, and then cancer- i didn’t go to school my last 2 years of school. i switched to online, but never felt the need to complete my classes because i knew i would get into the void. i’ve gotten into the void, both by waking up/tapping into it but i haven’t been able to change my awareness, or “manifest” bc i was just mumbo jumbing words or poetry. i didn’t apply to university, because i thought i’d enter the void before then and revise my school grades + make it so i got into the university of my choice.

now, i have a week left before i have to finish my classes- which i have 7 of them, and so many assignments. i have to move out in the middle of august because i lied to my parents and said i got into university, because i thought i would’ve already changed things with the void by now. my life was fucked, then i fucked my life. after discovering non-duality i gained hope that i would be able to turn things around by now, yet i haven’t. i don’t know what i’m doing wrong, because i was able to show myself the truth of reality (as lester levinson said).

i am really stressing because now everything is falling down on itself. i try to forget my problems, and don’t give them life by letting go, yet it’s so hard when teachers are bombarding me with messages how i have to finish the classes, or how i have to move out soon. i know this is probably ego driven, but i feel as if i can’t see a way through because of how attached i am to this. my health has also been abnormal, which makes me fear that the cancer has returned. what should i do?? im kinda freaking out.

anyways, i am so sorry if this came across trauma dumping/venting. i am just at a point where i do not even know where to begin to conceptualize this into understanding. this took a lot of courage to type, as im a bit afraid still- that people who hurt me from last year will see this (even though i know they won’t, but still). i totally understand if you wish not to post this or answer it, as it is very long and limiting. thank you though! i hope you have a wonderful week:)

this was quite difficult to answer as i've never been through so much turmoil all at once. i hope this answer helps and you'll continue taking care of yourself! (i'm sorry i linked way too much lol just don't read it all at once!)

firstly i want you to rest.

you've been through a lot and you've also been putting off a lot to get into the void. stopping life for manifestation is common it seems, its not healthy either. so much pressure is coming from time. you put all your expectations on a method, and i'm gonna guess that you also put so much onto your mind to get you into the void.

practically: your biological father sounds abusive and so does your sibling, i would be more careful around him. idk if your not around him anymore, it sounds like it? but you need to plan accordingly for your lie. are you gonna tell your parents or ?

theres a massive chance you'll just go crazy trying to figure out all these moving parts, so i suggest do what you can and leave the rest. do the minimum to keep you safe, then figure out the rest as it comes. do whatever you need to do, just remember to not take on too much at once.

ask for breaks on work at school for medical reasons, maybe think about jobs, etc. you see how much more could come into the picture? but this is all the body-mind can do. its easy to treat it as god, but its not god.

"but i feel as if i can’t see a way through"

You fail to do the works of God, because you take the body to be God. - Ada B. [4dbarbie]

take a look at these meditations:

butter meditation

peace meditation

surrender meditation

un-identification exercise

crying meditation

i'd like you pick one of these exercises:

feel all the shit. feel bad. just do it. let all the bad feelings out. put on sad music and fucking cry. cry it all out.

let yourself rest, with no problems. if a thought or feeling comes in just let it, because its not a problem remember? :) just put on some calming music or visualise a calming place. and let yourself have some time with nothing. no conditions. no perfection. no obligations. no 'have to' 'should' 'must'. let that go for this time

feel as if you've died. feel as if you've been completely forgiven, feel as if there was a powerful white light that washed you away of all the crap. really feel as if the divine came down, hugged you and said 'i love you and forgive you'. its all over. finally its all done. you can rest. (i suggest kickstarting this with imagery or music, its hard to generate feeling such grace on you own. i saw a jesus holding a baby lamb picture that made me burst out in tears and realised that all i wanted was just to be, no obligations. i imagined waking up in a heaven, in a gaint flowerfield. do what you want)

one time i did the 1st and 3rd exercises (i made it up on the spot) and it was worth it. the next few days felt much better. its like an exercise in rebirth. let yourself be reborn.

some days you'll just do one or all 3. pick what ever feels right in what ever order. but i suggest that 'feel as if you've died' or 'no problems' comes last! the whole point is to let the painful emotion pass through and settle in a neutral or grateful place.

"after discovering non-duality i gained hope that i would be able to turn things around by now"

here's the problem, you went into a philosophy intending to manifest. yes,, (1) you can do that (2) its okay, AS LONG AS YOU DONT MISS THE POINT. the point being that there is no person! the character is a character, not you. manifestation is just another concept, you can use it as long as you understand that its not real. thats why i shared the BOOKS, you need to READ.

"i try to forget my problems, and don’t give them life by letting go"

don't force yourself to forget (don't say you're not forcing it, otherwise you never would of wrote "TRY"). just let them be. deal with it when it comes up. the mind'll want to make a bazillion plans and stress. if you can make plans without spiriling, then do it. if you can't, don't. there will probably be some things you need to plan and thats okay. but everything else, leave it.

you haven't actually let it go, you're here in my inbox. you do not need to force letting it go. you naturally let it go by realising who you are in relation to it all. if you think you're the body-mind then its impossible to let go, because its your life and it involves you and if you let it go to shit, you might die!! - says the mind. but if you're Self, then this is not you. all those stories mean nothing compared to Infinity, Absolute Perfection and Love!

the Self is who you truly are. Self is still underneath it all, it is all. its imagining itself being a human. the character is the wave, YOU are the ocean. ultimately this is about realising all the identities, images and roles that "you've" taken on and used as reference are not you. how can a story be you? how can the past be you? are you the past? are you currently living in the past? you can be if you keep bringing it into the now.

when you stop using the past as a reference point, how much more posibilities come up now?

this is because the mind only knows what it knows. it cannot know anything more than what it knows right now. it can't access infinite intelligence. that's why it'll try to project into the future, and make plans. but it doesn't truly know. all it does is give suggestions based off the past. it is a combination of identity based off feelings, thoughts and memories that is collected and turned into a habit.

the past, memories, feelings, thoughts, identifies, roles etc all pass through you. they all come up like waves and then leave on THEIR OWN. if you hold onto these (which the character wants to do, it thinks thats all it is) it'll be painful when they are threatened in some way. a simple remark of "oh you look xxx" can be so painful for some characters because they based their whole life on a singular identity that WILL go.

Most of you can't change because you are so desperate TO change... but there is nothing to want to change. Things just are. Don't work with changing self, just realize who self actually is. [4dbarbie]

this is not a forcing thing, its just a rememberance. its done out of love, passion, a desire to just be free! with no ties to whatever identity! its takes courage, not convincing or denial.

Disbelieving you are Vanessa and denial are not the same thing. Denial is when you deny reality to something you're already giving reality to. Disbelieving was meant as an experiment, you never thought yourselves to be anything but this body, what will happen if you did? What are changes in your psyche, do you feel more confident, do you feel like you could take on the world? Don't you love Vanessa now that you know that she always was a choice? Even if she wasn't the greatest, what's so wrong with her? She is just somebody, she just lives a life. Things are only so serious when you're identified with her, you get scared, you get hurt, you feel stuck. But when you know that she can't hinder you? That she was never you? Don't you just want to laugh and hug her? [4dbarbie]

are you sure you're reading books and posts? a lot of this is already answered. your case is just more to deal with, but the point is still the same: you are not the body and mind, see what would happen if you questioned them.

just KEEP IT SIMPLE!

i'd like to leave you with this.

Once a young woman came to Hafiz and said, “What is the sign of someone knowing God?” And Hafiz became very quiet and stood in silence for nearly a minute. Lovingly looking deep into the young woman's eyes, he then softly spoke: “My dear, they have dropped the knife. The person who knows God has dropped the cruel knife so often used upon their tender self and others.” [source]

some extra resources

eft - health fear

eft - afraid to feel

we cannot practice letting go

heart of an emotion

i want to wake up with everything

hafiz - love's victory (PLEASE WATCH IT)

trust yourself

"You think you're doing it all for nothing, that's why you don't do it. But is freedom from pain really nothing? At least you are, for once in your life, sighing from relief from all this never-ending sense of doing."

health anon

apply

"All the process requires is letting go of thinking you are Vanessa."

behaviour

letting thoughts and emotions pass

challenge yourself

stories

everything brings you back to your Self

you've been through a lot and i'm glad you still are full of love! otherwise you never would've tried in the first place to change anything. use that love, take any anger and turn it into love for freedom! for Self! i know you can do it!!

also: the feeling of bad health coming back is a sign to me. you've put so much on hold: your healing from the sa, the healing from your family, the lying, LIFE in general. you can't keep doing that. turn inwards. the fear won't consume you.

[sadlynojellybeans]

So I am re-reading TOA and i have decided to write some things i noticed now that I know what is going to happen next.

THE HIDDEN ORACLE

Meg was about do develop a crush on Percy, and Apollo noticed. It was immediatly curbed by Percy mentioning his girlfriend. He did not even notice XD

Apollo actually got out of the three legged death race unscathed O.o Scared to death but unharmed

Lester is being surprisingly not pathetic??? I mean, he can't remember shit and has the constutution of a limp noodle, but he has not fainted in several chapters!!! Maybe it's because Camp Half Blood is a relatively safe space for them...

THE FORESHADOWING IN CHAPTER 26 IS DEVASTATING - he gets confirmation it is the emperors behind everything and he thinks "i would have rather tangled with Tartarus or Ouranos or Primordial Chaos" APOLLO PLEASE

Speaking of foreshadowing, Rhea?!??!? "Find your center. Enlightenment has to come from within" HELLO??!?!??

Apollo mentioning he caused an earthquake that wiped out most of Sparta and that he never liked the Spartans much??? What about HYACINTHUS???????

"I busted out some footwork the Nine Muses and I had been working on" please I want so bad to see Apollo dance. Especially Apollo as Lester

Apollo being absolutely convinced that he will never have a proper partner is tragic. "It was not in my destiny" bro

The Germani appear and the absolute first thing Apollo does is move in front of Meg. "Instinctively". This is the same guy that at the beginning of the book was evaluating which demigods would be best to keep on hand to throw at quests. I can't. Just how much exactly did he repress his protective instincts through the years and centuries?

I find so fascinating that Apollo wants to strike Nero down immediately after meeting him. Like, yes. Apollo is a god. And he would not allow anyone to threaten what he cares about. Even after his trials, he might be kinder and more attentive to demigods, but I think that anybody who crosses him (really crosses him) will have to start praying for mercy.

If there is one thing I can say about TOA is that it is certainly expanding my musical horizons, with all the songs I have to check out on youtube just to have an idea of what Apollo is singing about.

He did not suck during the confrontation with Nero?! Burst of godly strength saved the day and his dignity

"Just because she had lied about being my friend did not mean I wasn't hers. She was in danger. I was not going to leave her" man. He cares so fucking much. No wonder he never let anybody get close to him in the last years.

Didn't they say a sonnet was worse than a limerick in the next book?

"BLESS HIS CONNIVING LITTLE HEART". "Children of Hermes cannot rap". "[Cecil] was demoted to dancer" skjsjskansnkzbsnsmmsnzm

It's kind of ... sad? How happy Apollo is when flying on the giant ants. He is used to being a god who can fly whenever he wants, and a part of him is usually in the sky every day as he drives the sun chariot. And instead he has been stranded on earth, away from what is both his duty and something he greatly enjoys. "It felt so good to fly again. [...] For two or three seconds I was exhilarated".

AND THE ARROW OF DODONA IS FINALLY HERE AND TALKING FRIENDS!!!!

I cannot believe I am so happy because of a talking arrow

The arrow QUIVERED kjsnsksjsnsnzjxndnsk i love them so much

Not Apollo asking where Jason Grace is 💀

I genuinely cannot understand if this is foreshadowing or really lucky wording on Riordan's part. Rachel asks about Meg and Apollo thinks "She might as well have plunged the Arrow of Dodona into my chest". RICK. RICK DID YOU KNOW? HAD YOU ALREADY THOUGTH ABOUT THAT SCENE IN TBM OR WAS IT PURE CHANCE????

WE WERE ROBBED. I have been wondering for a few days if in TOA we ever see Apollo sing for fun (not to confuse enemies, not to open doors, not for any practical purpose. Just for the fun of it). The depressing answer seems to be no, although I might have forgotten. At the end of THO it is implied that Apollo, Leo and Calypso join the sing-along at CHB, but the fact that the books end before we actually see him sing is a travesty.

[alittledizzy]

i liked your dnp stuff but the fact that you still feel comfortable posting dnf is actually insane. regardless of the details of the situation why would you even want to think about those men they're such creeps.

I'm happy to hear you liked my Dan and Phil stuff!

Unfortunately I think we're just going to disagree on the rest of your message. The fact that you think they're creeps indicates to me that you're being very truthful and you don't care to look into the details of anything, which we differ on. The details of the situation are actually very important to me, and not at all something I want to disregard.

Here's a fun detail: did you know the campaign against Dream, the root of all of this public opinion about him, started on Kiwi Farms? I'm not going to link it because it's a vile site, but if you've never heard of it you can google for verification. It's an alt right hotbed where the users orchestrate mass harassment and doxxing of anyone they don't like. This is not an insubstantial fan defense of Dream - like I said, you can literally google it. You can look at the thread on him, the over five hundred pages of it. You can see them planning how they'll take him down and spread the lies/rumors.

Can you guess why they might not like an openly queer, neurodivergent content creator in the gaming space? Their actual goal was to try and see if they could get him to kill himself. They set out to start enough rumors that would go mainstream and spread enough about him (doxxing him, his family, etc) and it worked, to an extent. He didn't kill himself, but they absolutely succeeded in making people who aren't familiar with him genuinely believe he is an awful person though none of the facts really stand up because his story is just like most other people's. He grew up in a conservative home and had some dodgy posts about politics from when he was fifteen. (Did you know Phil Lester did the same thing?) That's been warped into "Dream is a Trumper Republican." when he's absolutely not. He's not perfect, but he's literally just a human being who has had a growth trajectory that people want to ignore because it doesn't fit the "creepy" box they think he belongs in.

He was in an abusive relationship as a teenager (where he was abused) and he had some messy situationships with other people his age. Most people with a high school/teenage social experience also go through that. But Dream's actions at 17/18/19 are held on a pedestal compared to real life (not online) adult relationships instead of other messy teenagers. None of the allegations about him are true. They came from fans who couldn't provide any proof, and burner accounts. They were all dropped and recanted. But people don't want to hear him clear things up. They don't want to see that people admitted they were lying. It doesn't fit the narrative of creepy.

Anyway - like I said, I'm glad you liked my dnp stuff, and I wish you the best! But I'm just not someone who is going to distill people down into one specific category or drop anyone based on public opinion without looking at the facts myself and coming to my own conclusion.

[charliedawn]

The slashers found out nurse y/n just got engaged (they have feelings for her), a tiny angst won't hurt right? 😶‍🌫️

It would take a fool not to notice the way Norman was staring at you. He was completely and deeply enamored with you. And when you met the man of your life, he never thought he stood a chance. But, he did. Even though Norman found every single one of his defaults and made it his duty to tell you...the man asked you to become his fiancé and Norman didn't know how to respond when he asked him next to be his best man for a probable future marriage. Norman was heartbroken, but hid it the best he could. He tried to be happy for the both of you. But, he didn't know how.

Whenever he would see you, his smile would widen and he'd have a hard time accepting the truth.

You were his little monster. He had seen you on your worst day and had kept caring after you. It seemed everybody knew about your relationship beside the two of you. Even your husband knew and did at times look at the both of you strangely...He knew there was something there from the start. But, when you told him that there was nothing, he decided to try and ask you out.

No one could have foretold that you'd accept. He was the first surprised. But, he sure glad he asked first. Because he perfectly knew that if Norman had asked first ? There was no way you would have said no.

Michael was there when you got engaged and boy, did it hurt...to realize he would never be the one to hold your hand at the end of the aisle. But, he knew you'd be alright. You were a smart girl/boy, and so was you partner. You would be alright. That's the only thing he wanted. Yeah...Nothing more, right ?

He pretended not to feel the tears running down his face and looked up at the ceiling. It was for the best after all...

What could he have brought you ? A long life of pain and suffering. He would have tried to kill you, he would have plunged you in an endless hole full of terrible struggle you weren't ready for.

So, he accepted to let you go and pretended not to feel the tears or his heart breaking in his chest. Michael Myers wasn't meant to be happy and even when you asked him if he was happy ? He lied. He was fine. You were happy.

That's all that mattered...

Freddy was frustrated when he heard the news, but didn't say anything at first. He spent most of his time in his room and made sure to avoid you. But then, you cornered him and demanded he explained why he seemed so upset ? And boy...You weren't ready for his answer.

"You wanna spend the rest of your life with a normy ? A boring little boy ? Go on then. Love him. Care for him. Spend your whole wild life with him. I don't care. But, know...Know that I know what you feel for me. It will eat ya alive. You may lay with him every night. But, I'll be waiting in your dreams, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened significantly at his outburst and they filled with tears.

"...You are such a big idiot, Freddy Krueger.", you uttered with a small tremor in your voice and his eyes seemed to soften for a few seconds. He opened his mouth and you really thought for a moment that he would apologize...But, he didn't. He looked away and smiled sadly to himself.

"Sure. I'm the idiot. But, you still fell for me, didn't ya ?"

Your eyes widened even more and he looked up knowingly at you. He didn't want to hurt you. It was the truth. You couldn't hide it, but it did. I did hurt. He knew. He had always known.

"Why...Why didn't you say anything when I accepted their proposal ?", you asked and Freddy's smile faltered.

"...Because idiots like me like to break things and darling, you're made of fuckin' glass."

Bo had locked himself in his garage since the moment Lester had told him about your engagement. He tried to convince himself that he didn't care, but it only made him more upset. Hadn't he been crystal clear ?! Hadn't he made it fuckin' clear that he wanted you ?!

When you entered his garage to bring him food, the sole sight of you was enough to make him angry. He slapped the plate you had in your hands and instead grabbed you by the throat to pin you against the nearest wall.

"Watya want from me, huh ? Why did you do that ?! Did you want me to fuckin' beg ?! To tell you that it kills me to see ya with that little cute stupid smile on your face and with your big heart-shaped eyes on your princess/prince—the one that isn't me ?"

Your eyes filled with tears and Bo hid his underneath his cap. It was no use. He released you. Your breath hitched as he suddenly pulled you closer to whisper in your ear.

"...Why the heck did you choose him ?! Was I gettin' fuckin' boring to you or sumthin' ?! Was I just a funny distraction to you, huh ? Did you have fun ? Hope you did..."

You didn't answer and Bo sneered before shaking his head.

"That's what I thought. Play with Bo. But, don't get too close...Or you may burn. Worse part is ? I would have given you everything."

Before you could say anything, he was out the door and you were left with only your broken heart and tears.

"...I will kill him/her.", Jason seethed while glaring at your fiance—but Freddy shook his head before huffing a mocking laugh of disbelief.

"No. You won't."

Jason was about to reply when he saw the way Freddy was looking at you...Matter of fact, he saw the way all the slashers were looking at you and realized just how much the event affected them. You were getting married. You wouldn't only be theirs anymore and even though you were going to stay their favorite nurse...Something would break.

They all knew it.

They had all tried to forget the fact that you were human, but the fact that you were getting married when none of them would ever find love made them realize just how normal you were.

Jason looked at you wordlessly and for the first time, Jason felt a new emotion rise in him: hate. He had never felt it before.

He hated you. And he hated himself. He ha taken too long and now, he was suffering the consequences. But, it was better to blame you.

It was better than to admit that he had made a mistake and had waited too long...thinking you would wait for him.

"Don't marry that cunt.", Jack told you as you were about to step forward towards the altar. You stopped dead in your tracks and huffed a small laugh of disbelief.

"Wow. And why—in the name of all that is—should I do that ?"

Jack didn't laugh. He stepped forward and grabbed your wrist.

"You know why. I ain't gotta spell it out for you, do I ?" There was a certain desperation in his voice and you snorted before pulling away.

"Matter-of-fact ? I do. Come on, Torrance. Tell me. Tell me the one thing that you refused to give me. Tell me the one thing that I waited for you to say during all this time, but you never did. Say it. Say it now and I'll go with you."

Jack knew exactly what you wanted. The three little words that would change everything. He wanted to tell you. Badly. But, he couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to, he knew what would be the price to pay.

And he couldn't. He couldn't go through all of it again. So, he remained silent and lowered his head. You clenched your jaw and finally spat out.

"Coward."

You then stepped forward and hid the tears that were threatening to spill behind your veil.

Jack remained silent because deep down, he knew you were right. He was a coward. And you deserts much better. So, he clapped. He clapped and clapped until his hands almost fell off.

You had tried to see Brahms before the wedding, but he couldn't face you. He couldn't even meet your gaze when you finally found him next to the buffet.

"Brahms. Look at me.", you told him, and even though Brahms was usually eager to obey—he didn't this time.

"Brahms...Can't...Sad.",he tried to explain and you frowned in incomprehension.

"...Sad ?", you urged him on and Brahms nodded.

"Yes. Sad."

"Why ?", you asked him to develop and Brahms looked away before confessing.

"Brahms...Wanted Y/N to be his friend forever."

You smiled, even though the words hit you deeper than anything. Brahms had never ever called you anything else than friend. So, you had assumed that's all you were for him. It was no use waiting, but Brahms seemed very upset about the news.

"Hey. I'll still be your friend. Don't worry."

You tried to comfort him, but Brahms seemed to refuse your soothing words as he punched the wall next to him and shouted.

"BRAHMS WANTS Y/N TO HIMSELF ! NO ONE ELSE !"

Your eyes widened at his outburst, but before you could tell him anything, he was gone. What you didn't know is that Brahms wanted more than to be friends with you, but didn't have the words. So, he had found the only word he thought would make you stay.

But, it was too late now. And even though Brahms now knew what he was feeling was love...It was too late. He was too late.

Penny had never once told you that he loved you. You had fooled around, kissed a few times...But, he had never told you what he felt. So, you thought he only wanted to have fun and that was it. So, when one of your colleagues started asking you on dates and you found yourself enjoying his company more and more...You could only said yes when he asked if you wanted to get engaged. But, you had underestimated Penny's claim on you.

The otherworldly being wasn't a sharer.

He tried to tell you by kissing you again and again, not caring about your protests. He could feel that you wanted him as well, but was surprised when you pushed him away.

"No. Penny. No.", you told him. And for a second, he obeyed...until he attempted again.

"PENNY ! STOP !"

This time, he could hear it was serious and stopped, but scrunched his nose in confusion.

"Stop ? Why ?"

You sighed.

"I'm engaged."

You showed him the ring and Penny tilted his head, barely giving the jewel a dismissive glance.

"And ?"

You sighed once more before explaining.

"It means we have to stop. I love him. And he loves me. So, this ? Us ? It has to stop."

Penny's eyes crossed as he tried very hard to understand, but when you attempted to leave—he giggled.

"Silly human...As if you could ever prefer that pitiful little human over me ? A god ?"

You glanced back at him, but with an apologetic look this time around.

"Goodbye, Penny."

"Congrats.", Pennywise said when he heard. He seemed the less surprised and even sat beside you to give you his support. But, it was to be expected...

"Yeah..." You eyed his expression for the smallest hint of disappointment or at least a little sign that he was feeling sad. But, he didn't show any.

"I can feel that you are disappointed about my lack of reaction. Why did you expect me to have an issue with the decision ?", he asked knowingly and your face heat up a little as you had forgotten he would read minds.

"Because...Because I kinda thought that you loved me.", you confessed and thought Pennywise would mock you or roll his eyes, but he did neither. Instead, he answered you truthfully.

"Pennywise doesn't love. Hasn't for a long time. Nah. You took the right decision."

You were surprised by the approval and when you looked back, Pennywise smiled at you. He was trying to be supportive.

He wouldn't tell you how hurt he was. He wouldn't admit to his feelings towards you, because that would mean he was in the wrong and had let his only ticket to happiness slip away. Again.

"Congratulations. I am...happy for you."

Kevin told the both of you and you felt a lump in your throat as you heard the slight hesitation in his voice.

Kevin ignored the voices of all the personalities in his brain and forced a smile on his face as he told you he hoped you would haze a great life together.

Even though, the personalities were all protesting and tried to stop him, Kevin went on and didn't pay them any mind. He would let them be the price of your happiness. No matter what they all felt about you.

And he was surprised by his own power of will as he succeeded in blocking all their voices away and sound somehow genuine in his wished.

His heart bled. But, as long as you were happy...He wouldn't say anything. He would smile. Wave. Dance. And even make a fool out of himself...He didn't care. You were the only human being who had ever seen him and trusted him. So, he would lock all of his feelings away and let them be smothered away.

You mattered. You are the only one who ever mattered...

[calmcoldevening]

♡ Slashers x plump reader ♡

Thomas Hewitt

𑁍 He likes your hips. Especially when you sit on his lap and wrap your hips around his legs while he squeezes your ass.

𑁍 Plump partner suggests big and warm hugs. The boy is so hungry for human warmth that he will not let you out of his hands for a while, but squeeze you like a soft toy.

𑁍 Baby Tommy likes to carry you on his arms, especially in the wedding style, he likes to feel your weight on his hands; be sure, he will walk extremely carefully so that if you are uncomfortable, he will painlessly correct your position; Thomas will hold you to his chest, so even through his clothes, you will hear how much he has a rapid heartbeat.

𑁍 Tommy likes to show you his strength so that you admire him and feel safe. It's enough that he puts you on one of his hands and takes a chainsaw in the other. You can't see it, but he'll smirk when you squeal in surprise and cling to his shoulders and neck.

𑁍 If the boy is bored, he will come to the kitchen (where you usually sit during a conversation with Luda-Mae or cook) and, putting you on a chair, will kneel in front of you. Tommy will put his head on your feet. Stroke his tangled hair and you will hear a vibrating purr in his chest. Tommy loves kneading your legs, so you can't get away from it. It calms him down.

𑁍 Thomas likes to look at your palms and compare them with his big hands. Your flesh is soft, tender, with a pleasant smell of soap, and his is hard and rough from constant hard work.

Vincent Sinclair

𑁍 Most of all he likes your face: plump cheeks, soft neck and shining eyes. Vincent likes to rub his mask against your forehead, massaging your shoulders.

𑁍 If you are sad, a man will pull your cheeks until you start laughing, and then hug you tightly.

𑁍 For him, you are a work of art, a Muse and, in principle, a standard of beauty, so be prepared for the fact that most of the time you will sit with him in the studio or pose for him.

𑁍 He likes to sit on your bed and hug your body from the back. He will put his head on top of your head and wrap his hands around your hands clutching a mug of hot tea.

𑁍 Please let him draw on your body. He thinks it's very beautiful. In a couple of hours, your body will turn into a flat canvas for Renaissance paintings.

Michael Myers

𑁍 He likes everything. Your plump body is a place where he can leave as many of his possessive marks as possible; especially in the area of the abdomen and neck. Hell, you'll have to wear shirts and sweaters with high collars if you're going out somewhere, how strange these hickeys and bites with a trace of his massive jaws will look.

𑁍 Can pass by and accidentally touch you. Just ignore it.

𑁍 He sneaks into your room when you're already asleep and lies down next to you. He likes to hold you to him, hugging your stomach, and burying his face in your neck. Without a mask, he can smell your body much more clearly.

𑁍 You are so nice and warm, he will climb up to you like a cat.

𑁍 He saw how sometimes you look at yourself strangely in the mirror. Michael is bad at showing love, but now he brings you various chains and rings, usually with hearts, to cheer you up. Maybe he won't even resist and will kiss you through the mask as soon as he sees your cute cherry plump cheeks.

Lester Sinclair

𑁍 He likes your hands. No, seriously. The best way to cheer him up is to quietly approach him from behind when he is working, and put your chubby arms around his neck — the boy is all yours. He will relaxedly tilt his head towards your embrace and rub the back of his head against your shoulders (well, what a cutie?), don't be surprised if he starts to whimper and purr from this, Lester really likes it.

𑁍 Although from the outside he seems to be a solid daredevil and a funny guy who will laugh even with a twitching little finger (and he will make him laugh), Lester can be serious, no, extremely serious. Usually his mood changes when it comes to you. If he catches you calling your own body names, believe me, you won't leave the house in the next few days. Lester will hug you all day and kiss your chubby body until your arms and legs are completely red. He will tell you affectionate words of love and convince you that you are the best and most beautiful girl he has ever had in his life!

𑁍 If you're sad, he'll make you cookies in the form of hearts (better than deer meat, right?).

𑁍 He likes playing with your hair. If you are sitting peacefully, know that he will certainly sneak up on you and ruffle your hair so that even a comb will be powerless.

"Honey, you're very beautiful. I'm serious. What would I do without you with my boring life, huh? Watching Vincent? Calmed Bo's seizures?"

𑁍 Every evening, if you want it, of course, he will give you a relaxing massage.

You would be a goddess for these boys, sweetheart ;)

[wispyhearts-heaven]

Slashers Finding Out You're Married

Your old family friend, the slashers, finds out that you're married when you have a run-in with them.

Minors: Do Not Interact

Warnings: Abduction, slashers being slashers, death, hinted Stockholm Syndrome, Hoyt being Hoyt, use of the word whore but meant to be gender-neutral

Slashers: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire and Thomas Hewitt

Bo Sinclair:

Out on the town? He probably didn't know it was you. He's too focused on getting back home.

If you manage to find your way back to Ambrose with your partner, he might be a bit too into character to notice it was you.

But if you get him by himself?

"Bo?" You ask, his name ringing in the garage as you step closer to him, the weight of the ring on your left-hand finds itself to be two times heavier now that you know. "I can't believe you're still here."

"Fuck, Y/N. What are you doing here?"

It's when your partner walks up to you and presses a kiss do you see the recognition and warmth from Bo's face melt away.

Bo either does one of two things:

One: throws the closest, sharpest thing at your partner, painting you in their blood; or

Two: continues on with the southern charm and waits to corral you off to his basement.

At this point he doesn't care how he gets you, he just needs to get you away from this asshole

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent would have to care about you on an extreme level to not turn you into wax, because at this point, you probably would've had to cross Bo.

Bo, if he knew about Vincent's feelings for you, would (depending on his mood) tell Vincent your married, or would wait for you to tell

Either way, you're kind of screwed

Any happiness of seeing Bo, Vincent and/or Lester has disappeared as he shakes when hearing the news that you're married.

They won't kill you, no, you mean too much to Vincent.

But that doesn't stop them from keeping you chained up underneath the House of Wax, or in Vincent's room.

You'd forgive them eventually, your SO was holding you back.

Lester Sinclair

Won't kidnap you, but he also won't not tell you or your partner about what lies ahead of you in Ambrose

Of course, he will ask (read: plead) with Bo and Vincent to not kill you. They can do whatever they want with your partner but please, don't kill Y/N.

It's a good thing that Bo and Vincent know who you are, so it's easy to move you away from your partner.

Vincent shows you the House of Wax, Bo deals with your partner and the car.

All of a sudden, halfway through your tour of the House, Lester comes running in, saying that your partner drove out of Ambrose in a hurry

"Y/N?" Your name rings out, muffled only slightly by the wax walls. You look down from the balcony to see Lester, who looks back up at you, suddenly relieved. "I'd thought you'd left without saying goodbye."

"What? Lester. I wouldn't do that why would you think that?" You ask as you walk down the stairs, careful not to trip.

"Your car, left'in a rush and I thought-"

"What?" Lester sees your heart shatter and you stumble a bit. Lester catches you and pulls you into him, telling you its okay as Vincent slinks off.

You might be broken for a while, but Lester's there to put you back together

Brahms Heelshire

You hadn't seen Brahms since his eighth birthday when his house burnt and he died.

But when you saw the advertisement in the paper about the Heelshire's needing a nanny, you couldn't help your curiosity.

Even though your partner wasn't exactly keen on you leaving, you couldn't turn away from the opportunity.

It had been years, so Mr and Mrs. Heelshire certainly didn't recognise you

Honestly, Brahms didn't recognise you either, not with his mask, the walls and age in the way

It took the Heelshires leaving and you breaking down in Brahms room for him to recognise who you were

"I'm so sorry Brahms." You cry as you hold on to his doll. "You deserve so much more than this. I wish-"

"Y/N?" It's his kid voice calling out for you from behind the walls and you quickly turn towards the sound.

"Brahms?"

Any hope of you going back home has now vanished.

Partner? Oh well, you are definitely stuck here now

Brahms will not allow visitation, you are solely his, and the idea of you leaving? He will guilt trip you.

If your partner tries to come to the manor, Brahms will kill them, even if you try to explain who it is

He doesn't care if you hate him after he kills your partner, where else can you go?

Thomas Hewitt

Yeah, it's going to sting.

You probably grew up around there and would have had to have been one of the only people to not make fun of him for existing

Luda Mae loved you and often invited you over to the Hewitt household, but you and Thomas played outside.

You had been taken away with your family as the town started slowing down and moved to the big city

When you'd come back through, it's likely a honeymoon or travel for an anniversary. Something that makes you want to see what's left of your hometown.

Your partner is slightly adverse, but you insist.

Running into Hoyt is a nightmare you had sworn would only happen in a horror movie and you apologise to your partner

Then you see you're outside the Hewitt house and you cry even more when you hear "THOMAS" out of Hoyt's mouth.

Thomas grabs you, only for him to recognise you after a moment.

"Thomas?" You ask softly, and suddenly he stops moving. "Thomas Hewitt? It's me, it's Y/N-" And then Hoyt hits you, or goes to hit you but Thomas moves you quickly away, now carrying you closer to bridal style.

"What are you doing with them?" Hoyt asks. "Whore like them-"

Thomas walks away with you in his arms towards the house and you can hear Hoyt yelling at him behind you.

You might mutter or ask about your partner but Thomas will ignore it as he sits you down in the living room, in front of Luda Mae and Monty

Monty doesn't really remember you, but Luda does, and while Luda might have moments where she listens to Hoyt, in the end, it's Thomas and Luda against Hoyt (because Monty has little to no opinion about it)

Please don't ask Thomas about your partner

And don't ask what the meat is (although, Luda and Thomas will try to feed you better cuts off meat)

[msookyspooky]

"Bo started the town and lied! It's so obvious he did it all!"

(If yall don't stop babygirling my man Vincent)

Bo and Vince are equally traumatized and equally fucked up in different ways.

Bo never received love or affection without the threat of what would happen if he wasn't good, any negativity was met with harsh punishment and he clearly was troubled at a young age with no help, called a monster as a tiny boy, has physical scars from it he has to see daily, still seems to hold his mother in good regards (Especially script Bo) but subconsciously takes his mommy issues and need for control out on bound women to both re-live his childhood trauma and to possibly get both love and revenge on his mother through women (No excuse obvi just pointing it out WHY I think he does it).

Vincent was encouraged to cover his face and wear a mask even at home, his deformed face was the main focus and his parent's did nothing to make him feel like he deserved normalcy (Mama said your talent would make up for what God took from you), watched his brother be abused and probably had Bo resenting him for it and he might resent Bo for being the problem child ruining their childhood, was groomed to follow in his mother's footsteps, has little to no communication to anyone but Bo (Maybe Lester) and is probably a perfectionist that needs control as well from the pressure of being the Golden Child to his Mother and was the one that waxed her corpse.

So idk WHY we all think Bo was the only one that could've started the town's wax corpse thing??? Yeah he is an arrogant blow hole that loves manipulating people but the entire movie he might as well be the ringleader that's just talking to the audience and suckering people in but Vincent is the one really doing most of the heavy lifting behind the scenes. Yes, that could be Bo manipulating him and making him do it all or it could be them as a team (I vote this one) and Bo is just obviously more inviting or it could be Vincent doing it all and Bo is just helping to reap the rewards of helpless women at his disposal and getting out pent up rage on people.

It could've been Bo looking for an opportunity to finally take out his sadistic rage

It could've been Vincent who did it in severe grief over his Mother aka the Handler that made him codependent on her and is just as twisted as his twin

IT COULD'VE BEEN TRUDY/THEIR MOTHER! Just because Bo lied to Carly; who says he's lying to Vince??? Seriously, Trudy was a shitty Mom and a bit nuts herself if you ask me strapping their fucking child down till he bleeds or making their kid a wax mask to cover their face even at home so who is to say in her final years she wasn't the one that did this??? (Not counting the script that heavily hints Bo killed both his parents after years of abuse but still didn't say WHO waxed the corpses first)

I accept all HC but it would not shock me if Bo convinced Vincent to do it after preserving Trudy...If Trudy did it and they really are trying to make their Mother proud...Or if Vincent in his grief waxed Trudy's body in memory of her but also waxed a person as revenge/spite and Bo being the guy he is went with it.

[ananxiousgenz]

(I LIED, one more part! It will come tomorrow!)

4/5

John awoke with a start. Sitting up as the panic of his dream—- Nightmare—- Began to fade. His heavy breathing slowed, and his grip on the yellow bandana loosened. He swallowed, dropping his head into his hand, as his shoulders slumped.

It was a familiar nightmare. Fire, brimstone, and the overlapping voices of every preacher from his childhood. Blood of people who was once a friends spattering church floors and walls. Nothing John hadn’t dramed of before, but it all felt particularly visceral this time.

John wiped his hand down his face. He knew he was punishing himself for the day before.

It was the only explanation for the intensity.

He looked up. The sky was pale with morning light. There was no clouds in the sky, and already John could feel the day would be warmer. The last chill of winter finally thawing out.

John watched the peaceful scene around him. Birds were starting to chirp. The river was slow. Everything looked pale with dew. His gaze fell slowly on Arthur. Feeling calmer, as he watched his friend.

A growl twisted unexpectedly at John’s stomach.

He pocketed the yellow bandana, and pulled the wrapped food out of his bag. John got up quietly, careful not to startle Akke, or Arthur’s horse. Or wake Arthur.

John relieved himself in a bush, and found a quiet rock away from their camp. He chewed the last few pieces of cured meat, and bit the cheese into little cubes with his teeth. He was absently nibbling at the stale bread as light began to make the dew shimmer on the bushes and tall grass.

Despite not sleeping long, and John knowing it was a fitful, restless sleep. John felt clearer headed than he had the day before. He still felt… Conflicted. Arthur affected him in ways that John had only just begun to comprehend.

John stared out over the river, ripples barely visible on its surface. Knowing he had to make a decision about Arthur Lester.

Arthur was awake as John came back into their camp.

“John?” Arthur asked, his hand hovering over his hip, where his gun holster sat.

“Calm down, its me,” John couldn’t fight the slight smile that tugged at his lips at the thought of Arthur shooting him just because he hadn’t properly announced himself.

Seemed only fair after putting Arthur down a hole.

“Ah, good,” Arthur nodded, but he continued to stare in John’s direction.

John began to roll up his blanket, after almost a minute, he didn’t look up as he asked, “Yes?”

“You seem… Better,” Arthur said, cautiously.

“Well, I feel better,” John answered, and it felt true.

“Great!” Arthur said, maybe a little too loud.

John smiled, but looked up from his task, raising an eyebrow at Arthur.

Arthur gave a sheepish smile as he felt John’s gaze.

“Arthur?” John asked.

“Um, well, after yesterday—-,” Arthur turned his head away.

“I am sorry about that…,” John said softly.

“Yes. Yes,” Arthur waved his hand at John’s words. “I know. We all have our days. I just…”

“Yes?” John asked, as he finished rolling the blanket, keeping his eyes on Arthur.

“Could I trouble your help with a shave?” Arthur said the words cautiously, slowly, like he was worried it would cause a repeat of the day before. “My arm is still not cooperating. And well…”

John’s eyes finally focused on Arthur’s face. Hair had overtaken his normally clean-shaven cheeks, and chin, over the last few days. John hadn’t noticed the day before, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. John wasn’t used to seeing Arthur looking so… Scruffy.

He pulled it off actually…

But what Arthur was asking settled in John’s head. A familiar ripple of his emotions from the day before echoed, seeming to get louder the further each ripple went out.

John forced a smiled, “Of course, friend.”

He had a decision to make after all.

giggling twirling my hair between a good, traumatic nightmare and my babygirl John being so down bad for Arthur even when he doesn't want to be AND the ominous overtones of this "decision" you keep mentioning...... I'm having a fantastic fucking time with this I am waiting with bated breath for the next part <3<3

@percymawce-arts ITS PART 4

[lighter-in-arthurs-pocket]

Going down to the basement you see a small room filled with various rubbish and several pentograms on the floor.

In the middle of one of the pentagrams lies a boy, he is unconscious. Approaching him, you checking him. There are no wounds or abrasions, but he is barely breathing. You need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible. Qasco takes the child in his arms and you begin to leave. This time you couldn’t leave the house quietly and robbers noticed you. One of them have a dagger, and another half a knife.

What are you going to do?

@larsons-shattered-eyeballs

@johns-right-foot

@arthur-lesters-skull

@arthur-lesters-left-nostril

@arthur-lesters-will-to-live

@arthur-lesters-dead-daughter

@mr-fausts-femur

@arthur-lesters-paternal-instinct

@arthur-lesters-eyes

@arthur-lesters-receding-hairline

[f1nalboys]

confessional ; lester sinclair

Lester Sinclair x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2280

WARNINGS: nsfw, no sex, priest kink, blasphemy, perverting the catholic faith etc, hands free orgasm, some nasty stuffs going down in the confessional, cumming in his pants, talk about sacreligious fantasies, corrupting lester teehee. not really proofread, based off of this thing i wrote

The confessional booth is dark and quiet. As Lester sits in the small wooden seat, his hands clasped loosely in his lap, resting on his robes, he ponders for just a moment if this is his true calling. He wonders if the other priests, all older, more experienced and devout, struggle with the thoughts he does. Lester has no time to think about it as he hears the confessional curtain slide open, the clinking of the eyelet rings against the pole having him sit up a bit straighter. 

His thumb runs over the rosary as he listens to the person settle into their side of the booth. Lester swallows heavily as he stares forwards into the wooden door, at the carved wooden statue of his Lord and Savior nailed to the cross, shifting in his seat. He knows the penitent cannot see him, that he is shrouded in darkness and separated by the old wood and lattice, but he knows God can see him and he must be careful. Careful with his thoughts, careful with his actions, careful with leading the flock to the path of righteousness. A hush falls over the booth.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” Lester’s eyes widen slightly and he can feel his pulse in his throat. He knew that voice, knew who it belonged to, and though he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help but put a face to the voice. Your image manifests in front of him, translucent, a mirage against the grain of the door. “This is my first confessional.”

Lester nods, forgetting for a moment the image of you is purely in his mind. He clears his throat, which was suddenly dry, and smooths the purple stole. “That’s alright. This is one of my first confessions too, y'know.” He says quietly, a lie, and he can’t help but feel the corner of his lips twitch at the sigh of relief he hears you let out. He wonders what you look like right now, if you’re in your usual attire or something different. It was later in the day, warmer than usual, and he has to clear his throat again to rid his thoughts of what that might entail. “Just… confess your sins and I'll do my best to help lead ya to absolution.”

“Thank you, Father.” You take a deep breath and Lester waits with bated breath, unsure of why he is so interested in what you will confess. The sins have always blended together. Adultery, drinking, gossiping, materialism, jealousy, lying; he’s heard every sin a thousand times over and not once did he ever feel invested past his holy duty. But this is you, the young lamb he was meant to protect. 

No, Lester thinks to himself as you begin to speak, the young lamb God was meant to protect. Not him. “I’ve lied to people before, dozens of times, just to get a better outcome for myself. I’m selfish, greedy, and gluttonous.” Lester hears the waver in your voice as you speak and he wonders for a split second if you knew by his voice that he was the one taking your confession. “I don’t pray everyday, I‘ve missed Mass many times due to laziness…” 

He waits as you trail off to see if you continue speaking. When the awkward silence hangs over the booth like a raincloud he speaks, doing his best to keep his voice calm and even. “Ask for absolution and I can give it to ya.” He says, his accent strong and comforting, his eyes still on the wooden door. He had been sitting on the small wooden seat far past comfort, but the pain and ache in his back was no longer felt.

“Please… can you grant me absolution, Father?” 

You speak right away, as if commanded by him, and your voice sends a shiver down his spine. You were eager to be forgiven, listening to his every word. He realizes that he could steer you wrong, he could push you towards darkness instead of the light, and that you’d follow. He swallows heavily, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. They snap open. The lust for power burned heavy in his heart; he could tell you whatever he wanted and you’d believe him. You would do anything if he said so.

“I can. Say five ‘Our Father’s’ and you'll be forgiven.”

“Thank you, Father.” You say and Lester swears he can hear your relief. 

He keeps his eyes closed as he brings his rosary, an old flashy thing with a red sapphire in the center his mother had passed down to him, to his lips. You begin to murmur the Act of Contrition, Lester whispering along to his part. “Go in peace.” He says, settling back as he waits to hear you stand, for the curtain to be pulled back and for yet another member of the congregation to enter and for him to start the process over again. It doesn’t come. “You alright, sweetheart?”

His voice is etched with concern, his eyes opening and for the first time, he allows himself to look over through the lattice. Your silhouette is there, your head bent down, your hands clasped into prayer, and he nearly gasps at the want that stirs in his stomach. He can’t see you, but now that he faces you, he can see your outline, he can smell your perfume, he can just barely make out the curve of your lips as you whisper hurriedly to yourself. When your head moves up, he sits back as quickly as he can, staring at the door.

“I didn’t confess everything.” 

“That’s alright. Do you wanna confess more?” 

“I do but… I’m afraid it’s sacreligious.” 

The words nearly take his breath away. “Sacreligious?” He says, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. He won’t say it - can't say it - but he wasn’t sure that was possible. Not with you, at least. “I think you should kneel and confess.” It’s out of his mouth before he means to say it, his accent growing stronger, but he hears the sounds of you moving from the creaky wooden bench onto the ground. He keeps his eyes on the door but he can see you there, knelt on the ground with your hands clasped at your face, looking up at the lattice with wide nervous eyes.

“I… I suffer from impure thoughts, Father.”

Lester grins softly, shaking his head. “That’s hardly sacreligious. It’s-”

“It’s about a priest, Father.” Lester stops talking, feeling his cock stir in his pants. He blinks, sure he misheard. But he hears you sniffle and he clears his throat slightly. “I-It’s one of the priests here, at this church.”

“Which priest?”

“I can’t-”

“The only way for ya' to be absolved is if you’re completely honest with me.” Lester says, ignoring the guilt building in his chest. This is wrong. He has a holy duty to steer these people right, to the word of the Lord, and yet now he was ever so slowly moving his hand up his leg to his crotch, pushing his robes up to his hips so he can gently press his palm against his bulge. “The Lord is kind to those who trust him enough to confess their deepest sins.” 

Lester hears you sniffle again before you make an affirming noise. “It’s… it’s Father Sinclair.” Lester bites down harshly onto his bottom lip to hold back a noise. The copper taste of blood fills his mouth as he closes his eyes, humming. “I know it’s wrong… I’ve only been coming here, to church, for a few weeks, and with every other priest I’ve been able to control my thoughts. But… there’s something about Father Sinclair… I know it’s wrong of me, Father.”

“It’s okay.” He reassures you quickly, though his voice is thicker than it was before. “No need to cry. These… thoughts that you’ve been having… can you go into detail?” Lester’s head leans backwards, thunking against the wood. “It's important to be honest, you know? You have to tell the truth if you want to be free.”

“I… do I have to?”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then yeah, ya do. You’re embarrassed because you know it’s wrong. It’s hard to be truthful but it’s important. It’s for the salvation of your soul, sweetheart.”

“Okay…” You take in a slow and deep breath and Lester prepares himself for the filth that would soon be flowing from your sweet lips by ever so slightly rubbing his palm against his bulge. It’s almost impossible for him to hold back his hiss of pleasure, but he does so, God willing. His eyes close though he swears he can still see the accusatory stare of the wooden Jesus in the darkness.

“Take your time and remember; you gotta be honest. The complete and utter truth.” He’s not sure if he’s telling you or if he’s begging you. 

A few moments pass and he holds his breath. You begin to speak quietly, your voice close to him now with your position on your knees closer to the lattice that separates you both, and he briefly wonders if this is how God feels when he hears prayers. He wonders if God feels the swell of pride in his chest at the sheer devotion he has been shown or if he is above that. All Lester knows is that he is not.

“I…I sometimes think about him when I’m alone at night. I.. touch myself.” Lester hums, low in his throat, his hand grinding down just a little harder. “I think about him there with me… touching me, telling me how to touch him.” You let out a choked noise, surely a sob at your sins, but Lester hears it as a moan. “Even when I try to think about something else, my mind drifts.”

“Spirits willin' but the flesh is weak, s'that it?”

“Very weak.” You reply and he can almost see you nod your head. “Sometimes during his sermon I drift off… I start thinking about him bending me over one of the pews,” Lester makes a choked noise, trying to cover it with a cough, his cock aching against his pants. He wants to pull his dick out but he knows he will never, ever, be able to go back once he does that. The punishment God had in store for him was already grand, there was no reason to push it just yet. “And whispering in my ear about how I feel better than any earthly thing he’s ever felt.”

“I-I see…” Lester says, his eyelids heavy as he opens them and looks down at his lap. Even in the dark of the confessional he can see the dark spot that was growing on his pants and he is thankful for the robes he dons so he can shuffle out of here and back to his chambers without someone seeing the physicality of his failure. “Is that all?” 

His voice is strained, his hips bucking against the tight fabric of his pants, chasing friction he shouldn’t find enjoyable. He was so close, had only felt this way twice before, both times in the cloak of the night with his hand wrapped tight around his cock and a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. Both times he had stopped, pulling his hand away from himself with a sharp gasp and a furrowed brow, watching his cock twitch and leak until he forced himself to roll over and go to sleep.

“I… I’ve thought about touching myself even now while talking about it.” You say and Lester bites down so hard onto his lip that he feels the skin break underneath his teeth once again, coating them in red, his pants coated in white as he cums. His nerves are shot, white dots floating in his vision as he comes back down to earth. What he just felt, before the guilt and embarrassment and worry settled in, was the closest to Heaven he knew he’d ever get. “That’s all, Father. That’s the complete and utter truth.”

Lester swallows heavily in an attempt to keep his voice level. He isn’t sure if he had made a noise of pleasure when he came, but you wait patiently for his absolution, so he carries forward. He can feel the heat of embarrassment crawling its way up his spine, his cheeks turning pink as he stares down at the mess he had made of himself. “That’s… a lot.” 

“I told you.”

“You did, you did…” He sucks in another breath and blinks hard, trying to clear his mind. “Five Hail Marys and seven Our Father’s should work…” he plans on leaving it there, hoping to get you out of the confessional booth as quickly as possible, but his lips keep moving. “And I think you should come by weekly for counseling. You can request a specific priest, or whoever is available, and they can give you one on one counselin'.” 

“Will you do the one on one counseling with me, Father? I feel embarrassed about admitting this to someone else.”

“I… yes, if you’d like. But you would have to remind me of what you’ve confessed here; I don’t know your voice.” He says, stumbling over his own words. He turns to look through the lattice as you stand from where you’ve been kneeling, letting out a quiet breath of relief. He had gotten through this by the skin of his teeth.

“Thank you, Father Sinclair.” He can hear the smug smile in your voice and he lets out a low, throaty whine as his cock twitches pathetically. “I’ll see you next week.”