#Jimmy Darling angst

[marchsfreakshow]

It's A Sin [Jimmy Darling]

Angst. Maybe a good ending.

Dandy stole you. That's what Jimmy thinks anyway. You wanted to take a break, and you left the Freakshow for a while. In that time, Dandy wooed you. You didn't come back. Even if you did, Dandy wouldn't let you.

I'm so sorry for this, I just thought of it and thought it would be good to get back into writing for Jimmy<3

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Weeks passed.

Months.

You hadn't come back.

"leave it, Jimmy. Seriously...they would've come back by now." Eve mentioned. But he couldn't. He couldn't just live his life without you to help him and live by his side. Fucking Dandy.

Jimmy sat by the ticket booth, day after day. Not eating, drinking, not even looking back once. Still with a glint of hope in his eyes that you would come back. Back into his arms, and into the Freakshow where you belonged. He held the picture of you in his hands, always. Standing with Elsa and Ma Petite, performing together, smiling the night away. But Dandy just couldn't help himself.

He couldn't stop himself from wooing you with the possibility of a warm meal and a fluffy bed every single night. Being with a man who won't be charmed by other women and was 'normal'. You defended Jimmy at first, saying how he was as normal as you or I. But the baby wasn't having it. He stomped around screaming nothing until he picked you up and threw you in the car. "You're mine now." He seethed. You spat and tugged at the car door. Locked. A shit-eating grin appeared on his face when you realised you couldn't get out.

The drive was silent and awkward. You muttered insults. Dandy ignored. But when you got to the manor, you ran. You ran as far as you could. Away from Dandy.

That's what Jimmy hoped anyway. He hoped you were running. Back towards your home. In reality, you were swooned ever so slightly. You were Dandy's now. Sleeping in a plush, big bed every night with a warm breakfast in bed in the morning. You could live like this forever. Everything you ever wanted, right at your fingertips. Where was your Jimmy in your mind? The last thought in your mind when you fall asleep at night. How he could also be happy like this, but he refuses.

Every single thing about you was missed. It was starting to feel wrong. To love you and miss you so much. Heartache, heartbroken, lost. Desperately waiting and searching for you every morning. Waking up every morning wishing you were still asleep in his arms, missing the way you kissed him so gently, and how Motherly you were with Pepper and Salty. Pepper cried when she realised you were gone. One of the kindest souls, abandoned her, more heartbreak. Jimmy felt guilty for you. He couldn't look them in the eyes anymore. The man spent hours staring at your photos, missing your pretty laugh more day after day.

"I miss them so badly..."

"I know Jimmy. I know. But there's no point sittin' and mopin' around in front of the tent all day. Come eat."

"go away Ma.."

He couldn't bear to look his mother in the eyes. He was betraying everyone, but he wanted nothing more than to see you running towards him on the road, jumping into his safe, protective arms once again, and being back home. She sighed, and just turned away, walking back into the Freakshow tent.

Time passed.

A cold October night.

No one around here, no one there.

Breaths, and slowing down footsteps. A lit-up sign in front of their eyes. 1am. No one behind them, to the right, left or in front of. No car following them quietly. Opening the curtains, they walked in. Radio silence. It felt like they had to walk on air. Everything was the way it was when they left. When they walked out of the door, and out of the freaks' lives. You heard your beloved nickname. "Schön..?" Elsa asked quietly, standing in shock. Whether it was happy or angry shock you didn't know until she rushed to you, a grip around your tired body pulling you up. "Mein gott.. schieße.." German mutters and swears.

"I never shoulda left Elsa. Darl', I'm so sorry.." you whispered into her shoulder, knowing to hold in your tears. Both of you spoke for what felt like hours, and now you were standing by the stage, waiting for Elsa to signal you.

"seriously Elsa? This has to happen now?" You missed his voice. You felt like putty already, but you silently coughed and stood up straight.

"Yes! It cannot wait any longer." Jimmy tiredly chuckled. Oh, how you could be a puddle right now, entranced by him just like you were when you were first introduced to him. Lights cut, you stepped onto the stage with shaky legs and hands, facing the wall. The sudden awareness of lights made. You take a deep, incredibly shaky breath. Jimmy recognised you instantly. He stood up, anger, confusion, and love filling his brain. And in a second, you spun on your heel. Eyes meeting eyes. Seeing the sadness in Jimmy's look made you want to fade into the wall and never address him ever again. He muttered your name as the urge to fall to your knees grew.

"Jimmy.." you muttered back, half smiling. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You were almost cut off as Jimmy jumped to meet you on the stage, holding your hands tightly.

"Why? Why Dandy? Of all fuckin' people?"

"Because I was selfish." You looked away at the ground, feeling too guilty to ever look in his eyes again. "I was fucking selfish and lacked judgement. This is home." A hug was the last thing you expected as a response, but Jimmy held you tight, what you had craved for the last two months. He sobbed into your shoulder, and everything hit you like a freight truck. Hearing the one you loved to cry, realising how badly you fucked up. It made you burst, gripping the loose fabric on his back.

"Jimmy Darling, darling, I never shoulda left you. I'm sorry for being an asshole."

"My pretty sweetheart.." he muttered, holding your face, both your eyes and his, glassy. And a kiss. One like never before. Desperate hands around his neck, your back, weak knees, small giggles and smiles. Being held by the one who gave you the world despite everything. This felt right.

"I'm so glad Elsa woke me up." He chuckled, resting his forehead on yours.

"I'm glad I came back."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tagging: @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @slvt4jamesmarch

[icannot3]

"Drunken Mistakes"

Jimmy darling x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcoholism, fighting, slight angst (happy ending tho yippee)

Word count: 1.8k

I saw this little sentence prompt that said, "I can't keep kissing strangers pretending that they're you." So that's what this is based on.

..........................

Some say that you will never heal by going back to what hurt you.

But seeing Jimmy with a woman pressed tightly against him, his lips ravishing her own in such a fervent way made your heart twist. Despite almost a year passing since you'd separated, you still remained devastated. And him? He seemed to have little to no problem simply moving on, as if you meant nothing. You'd heard the sounds that came from his trailer at night, on at least a biweekly basis. He was sloppy, always drunk, it repulsed you in a way to see what he'd become. But perhaps he'd always been this way, and it was your rose-colored glasses that had prevented you from seeing the truth.

His hands were tenderly holding her by the hips, squeezing the skin there. It was dark; you were walking back to your trailer when you'd seen the two entangled in the open valley. You'd seemingly frozen, unable to move and unable to turn away from the scene. You'd missed him, despite everything. You missed when he held you like that and how sweet he was before his mother's death. Sometimes, the moments of bliss from your relationship made you forget about the malignancy. Often, you would wonder about whether leaving him truly was a mistake. You felt that maybe you were just emotional and acted brashly at the time. Your brow furrowed, nose cringing with disgust after you looked back at the day the relationship had ended.

You had been worried sick, unable to find him for hours. Panicked, you'd searched everywhere. Jimmy had recently gotten in trouble with some men married to the women he'd previously catered at Tupperware Parties. He wasn't discovered for his devious system until he stopped servicing the women after getting with you, this act had led them into a storm of petty rage. Some of the women told their husband's that he'd forced himself on them, and as a "freak," he had no means of defending himself against these claims. His deformities made him unbelievable, and punishment if caught would be merciless.

He didn't show up to the diner, where plans between the two of you had been made. It was a celebratory occasion, your birthday. Jimmy had made promises to spoil you with his affections and all of the gifts he could afford. His enthusiasm about the day had you worried about what could have happened that made him unable to attend. Things between you had been turbulent as of late due to both the stress he was under with the law and the death of his mother. You were arguing often; he'd started drinking to cope instead of for enjoyment purposes, and it was making him become an ugly shell of what he once was. As you walked back home, in passing, you looked at his trailer. It was the one place you had not yet checked. Your feet were sore from the heels you'd worn to impress him, the ones he didn't care enough to show up and see on your birthday. You stepped up to the door, opening it abruptly. There he was, laying down and wasted out of his right mind. He looked filthy and hadn't even dressed up to see you. His white tank top was stained with liquor, you could tell by the smell.

Something in you had snapped in that moment. Your yelling and sharp slam of the door had woken him up. You'd stormed out of the premise, blinded by rage and disappointment. He was following you from behind, immediately on your tail. Jimmy scoffed, arms flying up in the air. "What's the matter with you?" Baffled by his blatant ignorance, you ran your hands through your hair and pulled the soft locs with frustration. You didn't even want to see him, let alone explain his act of unreliability. He continued to follow you, stumbling gracelessly as he did. He was yelling incoherently your way, sentences sounding more like slurred words.

You'd finally turned around, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself before speaking. "The plans, Jimmy. Remember? It seems that drinking like a slob is more important than my birthday." Your words were laced with venom, tears beginning to blind you. You closed your eyes, refusing to let any fall. He got up close to you, stopping in his tracks. "It's not that big of a deal. We can go out now." His breath was volatile.

"Just forget about it." You opted that the day would now be more enjoyable without him. Jimmy groaned with frustration. "Don't be like this. I made a one-time mistake, but it won't happen again. So let's just forget about it." You inhaled a shaky breath, weeks of pent-up frustration bubbling to the surface. "It's funny you say that because this isn't the first time you've done this." Your arm came up to wipe your tears that still threatened to escape. "I do so much for you- I supported you through everything. Yet you can't go one day without drinking so much you can't even function. Fucking look at yourself, Jimmy!" Your voice was breaking, the stress causing you to shake.

"OH! Well, if I'm such a piece of shit, why don't you just leave me, huh?" He yelled back, his arm reaching towards you and swaying 'matter of factly. You scowled, "Well, maybe if you don't even care enough to try and fix things, I should! I deserve someone who loves me enough to make an effort."

"Then maybe you should leave."

You were brought back to reality, and it hits you like a semi-truck. You'd spaced out, staring at Jimmy and whatever girl he'd decided to finesse tonight. In your daze, he'd taken notice of your lingering stare, making eye contact with you. Your breath hitches, and you quickly begin to walk past them, not wanting to deal with the conflict that could arise. Your chest felt as if it may cave in, ears and cheeks red hot. Finally, you'd made it inside of your space, feeling the sweet relief of solitude. A place where you could not be bothered, somewhere you could sleep off the stress of today and forget about it by tomorrow.

A knock sounded at your door, and your head snapped to the side with annoyance. You knew it was Jimmy, his insolence was aggravating. He knows that you have no interest in seeing him outside of any shows. You slanted the doorway enough to peek your head out. There he stood straight, alone. You looked around the area for anyone else. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk." His voice is soft. He smells pleasant. He also looks sober, to your suprise. You still felt bitter from his presence, feeling a strong urge to act petty. "You forgot to bring your leech. She's probably looking for you." You back away, about to cut him off. His hand comes up and grabs the edge of the door, keeping it open opposingly. "I'm serious. Can I please come in? I'll leave right after I say what I need to, promise." He stays calm, careful not to push further on the matter out of respect. His hand slides down the door to his side as if he's giving you the option to shut it if you want. Begrudgingly, you allow him to enter, curious about what he has to tell you so urgently. He steps inside, cautiously taking a seat on the couch and removing his hat. His curls are soft looking as they bounce at the now lack of restraint. You couldn't help but notice how clean he looked, freshly shaven, and washed.

You snap yourself out of staring at him for too long once again. "So what is it you wanted to say?" Your demeanor has changed, deciding that it's best to act civil now. Jimmy looks down at his hands, pursing his lips and rolling his head to the side. It takes him a minute to speak, but when he does, he looks you in the eyes. "I can't keep kissing strangers pretending that they're you."

You're flabbergasted and left at a loss of what to say or how to respond to his statement. It's you who's silent now, trying to process his words. Not giving you time to recuperate, he continues. "Losing you was the biggest mistake I ever made. You didn't deserve that. You're the only person in this world that really cared for me, and I blew it. I can't say sorry enough - I know I don't deserve forgiveness. It ain't right, the way I treated you. At the time, I could have come up with so many excuses about why I did what I did, but none a' that matters." He reaches into his pocket, grabbing a small box. "Sometimes I carry this with me because I think about finally manning up enough to give it to ya'. Even though it's been almost a year and I should've givin' it to you on your birthday, here." You take the small box in hand, the velvet fabric encasing it feeling luxurious against your fingertips. Upon opening, it was a small necklace with a heart and a little stone on the chain. The clear diamond-like crystal glistened beautifully.

You gazed up at him in disbelief, knowing this likely cost a pricey penny. He was smiling softly at you, a look of remorse on his face. Suddenly, you felt lighter, all of the pain you'd experienced beginning to vanish. To see him cleaned up and hear his apology resurfaced the love you always had for him. "Have you stopped drinking?" You felt the need to ask for a final precaution before deciding to forgive him. "Almost entirely, I can't keep acting like a fool anymore." You nod, taking in his statement. "I wanna be the man you deserve. I'll spend forever proving that to you if I have to." Jimmy offered you his hand, which you took. His touch was gentle, his thumb grazing against the back of your palm. "I miss you, Angel."

Instinctually, you'd hugged him; allowing yourself to melt in his familiar embrace. This was the Jimmy you fell in love with. His strong arms surround you, pulling you in even closer. His hand plays with your hair and strokes your neck affectionately. He dropped his face down and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. You pull away, reciprocating that by kissing his lips. It's a simple peck that you pull away from quickly. Jimmy brings up his hand, tracing your lips with his finger before kissing you himself. You melt into his touch, allowing him to do so until your brain felt fuzzy from contentment.

"I'm never letting you go again, sweetheart. That's a promise."

A promise he kept.

[temporarywelcome]

toxic till the end - Tate Langdon

Words: 2.3k

Summary: your relationship with Tate was toxic till the end (inspired by the song "toxic till the end" by Rose`

CW: toxic!tate (ofc), mental health struggle mentions, reader is burnt out trying to help him (remember ya'll, in the end, put yourself first!), threatened sewerslide, Westfield incident, reader's mom is religious but it's barely mentioned

____

Dating Tate Langdon started off simple. It started off great, actually, amazing. 

Y/N was the first to make a move. He was seated alone in the cafeteria, listening to music with his discman when she slid into the seat in front of him. 

“Tate, right?” she began casually, picking at her nails in an attempt to appear cool and nonchalant. 

He plucked out an earbud, “Huh?”

“Your name is Tate, right?” she repeated.

“Oh,” he took out the other earbud, “Yeah… I’m Tate. And you’re Y/N.”

Y/N nodded, giving him a small smile, “Yeah, I’m Y/N. You’re cute, Tate,” she was a shameless flirt, what could she say? She wanted him, and she was determined to have him. 

His cheeks flushed slightly, corners of his lips curling into a grin, “You’re pretty,”

____

It was a pretty easy start.

Two days after that, the two of them were going out on a date, and soon they were officially a couple. Not only was it an easy start, it was an amazing start. Tate was so attentive to her needs and desires, always getting her these little handmade gifts and spending as much time with her as possible. 

And that soon became a problem. 

As her phone rang, she let out a tired groan, sitting up in bed and rubbing at her burning eyes before blindly swatting at it before she was able to pull it off of the receiver, “Hello?” 

“Did I wake you up?” she recognized that voice anywhere. 

“...Yes, Tate, it’s four in the morning. Some people like to sleep,” Y/N replied. She usually wasn’t so nasty to him, but he’s been calling almost every single night at this point. She just wanted a good fucking sleep. 

He was silent for a moment, “...are you mad at me?”

“Of course I’m fucking mad, it’s four in the fucking morning. Go to sleep,” 

“But… But I need you,” that was always his line. Whenever he knew she was going to hang out with friends he didn’t like (which was all of them), suddenly he was calling her with his big ass Moterola that he desperately needed to upgrade, telling her he was depressed and anxious and needed to be with her. And every time she would fall for it, cancelling her plans and running to him, just to realize he only said that so she would go to him. 

She knew what he was doing, yet she still ran to him every time. Every. Single. Time. 

And like every single time, she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Come over. I’ll unlock my window,”

“Thank you, babe!” he hung up right away, and she placed her phone back onto the receiver with a grumble. She wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. 

As she stood up and unlocked the window, she wondered what it was going to be this time. His mom was being an asshole again. His grades were slipping. His dark thoughts were taking over.��

Y/N cared for his mental health greatly, but sometimes it was too much for her. Sometimes she felt like his mental health struggle was negatively effecting her own. 

There was also the possibility there was nothing wrong at all and he just wanted her attention. He always wanted her attention. It was a bit suffocating at times. 

Within a few minutes, her window was opened and the shadow of Tate’s lanky form appeared before her. She didn’t bother turning on her bedside lamp, she was tired. “Hey, baby,”

“Hi, babe!” he said excitedly, immediately kicking off her shoes. 

She should be pissed off, she really should, but she found herself scooting over so he could slide into the bed next to her. He turned so his back faced her, signalling what he wanted. 

Arms circling his waist, she pulled his back to her chest, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, “So, what’s wrong?”

He hummed in response, grabbing one of her hands and interwining their fingers, “I just wanted to see you,”

“At four in the morning?” 

“Mhm,” he replied, “I missed you,”

“I see you everyday, love,” 

“And? I still missed you,” he said simply.

Y/N didn’t respond, already starting to fall back asleep. Until he tightly squeezed her hand to wake her up. “Hmmmm…?”

“Why were you talking to Todd today?”

“Huh?”

She couldn’t see, but he was pouting, “Todd. I saw you talking to him in the hallway,” 

“Oh,” she yawned, “Yeah. We were talking about a project we have coming up,”

“I don't like that you're talking to him,” he mumbled, releasing her hand so he could turn to face her, “Don't talk to him anymore,”

“Tate, babe, he was just asking some questions,”

“Sure,” he rolled his eyes, “Don't trust that fucker, he just wants to get in your pants. He's using that project as an excuse,”

“And how do you know that?” She mused, beginning to play with his hair.

“I just do. Stop talking to him,” he huffed, nuzzling into her neck, “Please?”

“Okay,” she knew an argument would come if she told him no, so she just left it at that.

She lost so many friends for him. 

Tate smiled, pressing a kiss to her skin, “Thank you, babe,” He looked down at their intertwined fingers, noticing she was still wearing some of her rings, “You slept with your rings on?”

“Mmm,” Y/N mumbled, starting to drift off again, “...was tired,”

And so he plucked the rings off of her fingers, smirking as he slid them onto his own. He always liked to borrow her stuff, she was sure he was the reason so many of her hoodies were missing. So him taking her rings didn’t bother her, despite the fact they were Tiffany rings. Expensive ones she had gotten for her birthday once. He would give them back, he always did. Eventually. 

She never got the rings back.

___

A few days passed, and within those few days, things changed drastically. 

Well, nothing really changed between them. It was how Y/N reacted to said things. 

She was already annoyed with Tate’s behavior. She hasn’t slept properly in days at this point. Whether he just wanted her attention or was genuinely struggling, she was the one who had to be there for him. 

Like right now. 

He was sobbing, curled up in her arms as they laid on her bed together once again. She felt awful for feeling this way. She felt awful for being annoyed. She hated seeing him so upset, and always tried her best to console him, always getting nowhere. It was draining. 

How much was too much? Y/N was constantly depressed because he was constantly depressed. How much more could she take? 

“Y/N…” he mumbled after a while, face still buried in her neck. 

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why won’t you comfort me anymore?” 

She paused, biting her bottom lip. She could feel his eyes on her as he tilted his head up slightly, his lip trembling and his face all red and blotchy. He was right, she had barely spoken since he had gotten there. Just rubbing his back in silence. 

When she didn’t respond, Tate sat up, “Y/N…”

“Hm?” she said dumbly.

“Y-You’re acting different,” he was starting to tear up again, “You’re acting different with me. What am I d-doing wrong?”

“Nothing, baby,” she just didn’t have it in her to defend herself. It was almost five thirty in the morning, she honestly just wanted him to fucking leave. 

His hands went to her shoulders, blunt nails digging into her skin, “What i-is it? What’s wrong with m-me? Just tell me!” 

Fuck. 

Why did she stay silent on her problems this whole time? Why didn’t she just tell him how she felt? Why put them both through this?

“I can’t do this anymore,” There. Done. She said it. 

And regretted it as soon as she saw his face completely crumble. 

“Wh-What?” Tate whispered, pulling away. His eyes looked wild, darting around the room as his chest rose and fell repeatedly. He was seconds away from hysterical. “I’m crying about my f-family problems and my depression an-and you decide you want to leave me?!” 

Well when you say it like that…

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

She groaned, pressing her face into her hands, “Tate-”

“-You’re not even calling me baby anymore!” he gasped. He scrambled off of the bed, looking down at her in both desperation and rage, “I didn’t do anything wrong! I thought you loved me!” 

“I do love you!” she whisper-yelled, not wanting to wake up her parents who would definitely be pissed if they found out Tate was in the room with her. “But am I not allowed to love myself too? This is stressful for me! I can’t do this anymore,” 

“Stressful for you, huh? Imagine how I feel,” he scoffed, “I’m the one going through it,” Crossing his arms over his chest, he began pacing the room, trying to hide the trembling in his hands. 

“But you always dump it on me! Don’t you ever think about how that affects me?” She could already feel another argument coming. They were arguing literally two days ago. 

“I always listen to you when you’re upset about s-something!” as he spoke, he pointed an accusing finger at her. Like she was the problem. “Why is it so hard for you to comfort me? Do you not care about me anymore?”

God she felt like crying now too. 

“I do care about you, Tate, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep hurting myself trying to help you,” she sighed, standing up as well. She reached out to him but he shrank away, as if she were poisonous. “I think it’s best we broke up. I’m so sorry,” she couldn’t even say an “it’s not you, it’s me,” because it entirely was because of him. 

He was hysterical now, tugging at his blonde hair in stress, “No! No, you can’t do this to me!” he shouted, definitely going to wake up the whole house at this point, “I can’t live without you!”

“Tate, please, don’t be like this-”

“No!” To her surprise, he swatted at the lamp on her nightstand, causing it to shatter, “If you leave me I’ll fucking kill myself, I swear to God. I’ll kill myself. And it’ll be all your fault!”

…what?

“You can’t be serious,” she gasped, “You’re being serious right now?! Trying to guilt-trip me into staying with you?”

“No! Fuck you!” he snapped, “I’m just telling you the truth! I’ll kill myself, you fucking bitch!” 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Y/N finally shouted. Tate was already marching towards the window as she yelled, finally letting out her own anger. “You’re not even fucking trying to fix anything! Fuck you!” 

There was a loud knock on her door, making her jump. Fuck. Someone was awake. She was fucked. 

“Get the fuck out,” she practically shoved him out of the window. 

“Y/N, what is going on in there?!” her mother called from the other side of the tour.

“Coming, Mom!” she called, watching as Tate climbed down the tree by her window. Once his feet touched the grass, he looked up at her, angrily giving two middle fingers. 

Things always ended like this. And they always started right back up when he knocks on her window the next day like he always fucking did, with a bouquet of flowers or vinyls of the artists she liked. 

She always took him back. 

Shit. 

___

He did not come knocking on her window.

He did not come with flowers or vinyls or chocolates or any sort of peace offerings. 

The relationship was truly over. 

She thought the first few days would be terrible. 

She thought she would spend each day sobbing in her room and forcing herself to go to school. She thought she would be in complete misery thinking about Tate and their ended relationship. 

That was far from the truth.

Even on the first day, she was like a brand new woman. 

There was no one clinging onto her the whole entire day. No one forcing her to not hang out with her own friends. And certainly no little bitch in her ear telling her to wake up in the middle of the fucking night. 

It was fucking amazing. 

And Tate was alive and well (or more, alive and pissed), still going to classes and being his brooding self. 

So she didn’t expect the news. 

Every year, she and her family would take a short road trip during the school year to her grandmother’s house for her birthday. This year was her 71st. 

Tate knew this. Perhaps he planned it all out on purpose. 

Perhaps he knew after Y/N’s grandmother blew out the candles and the happy family ate cake, Y/N would turn on the television in the living room, flicking through channels. 

And stumbling upon the news. 

Westfield Shooting - Shooter Identified!

What? She missed one fucking day of school and this happened?

“Mom! Look at this!” she exclaimed, beckoning her mother to the living room. Since she was seated next to her comatose father, she shook him awake. 

“Oh my,” her mother gasped, hand going to her mouth as she watched he incident, “Thank the Lord you weren’t there-”

Then they saw who the shooter was. 

Last year’s yearbook photo of a charming young man with curly blonde hair and cute dimples. Eyes almost black. Tate Langdon. 

Holy shit.

Yes, perhaps Tate did do this on purpose. Perhaps he did, because when Y/N returned home, she was gifted a note from Tate’s mother, Constance. It came as a shock to her, considering she and Constance didn’t get along, for the simple fact Constance and Tate did not get along. 

Yet Constance Langdon handed over a handwritten note from her son, saying it was for Y/N to read. 

And so she did. And cried.  

“Dear Y/N,

This is all your fault ♡”

____

[evan4ever]

James March x reader. The reader is very innocent like they don’t curse, drink, smoke, etc. James just adores it so much cuz it’s the opposite of him. He gives them random gifts and special dinners (maybe some slow dancing). As well as tons of affection like cheek and hand kisses, cuddles, holding hands, and helps you get ready for the day. He’s very overprotective and possessive of them like a kid who has a special teddy bear, so the other ghosts better watch their backs if they try to mess with the reader. He never lets them know he’s a serial killer but they know he’s a ghost.

Innocence

Warnings: talk about murder just a bit but no warnings really, just a sweet fic again!

a/n: you didn’t really give me a plot andI wasn’t sure if you wanted lime a headcannon or not so I hope what I came up with works for you 😅 but with reader being innocent and almost too naive while JPM protects her and is possessive lol 🥹

—

You first met James when you had to find a hotel quick and one that didn’t cost your entire paychecks worth to stay in for a night. You were in the city for a last minute job interview the next day, and you were lucky enough to meet the owner of the Cortez who has offered you a deal to stay.

You were pretty blown away by his offer, having been at the lounge where you enjoyed a nice glass of lemon water before the man, who introduced himself as James Patrick March, approached you. After some visiting, and many odd but enjoyable questions from him later, he offered you the night for a discounted price of $15. You weren’t sure why, but didn’t dare object.

However, your original plan to call it a night by 8 PM soon turned to 11 PM, then next thing you knew it was 2 in the morning and James and yourself just couldn’t seem to pry away from each other. It was magnetizing being around the other, for both.

James was so beyond intrigued by you. He knew times had changed, and that modern day women weren’t as classy and “well kept” as they were in his day. But you were different, not at all like the females that trotted into the hotel, getting drunk or high and using such foul language with every word, wearing nothing more than a dress that barely covered them. No. You were the classy that James once adored and almost never saw again.

It drew him to you. Not just how you dressed or how you spoke, but your pure and complete innocence. It was something James wanted to protect, he wanted you to keep forever. And he’d make sure of it, if you let him of course.

Though he drank, he, on occasion, would use a foul word, and he had no innocence left in him — you were the opposite of him. And if it were a true myth, James believed it was love at first sight.

That night was the beginning of your most exciting, spoiled life; and that is said with confidence.

You had started returning to see James often, more and more often, until you practically lived there. You met many people, some you enjoyed, some you weren’t fond of. But it was many months later that James finally vowed his love to you, you returning the vow, and James filling you in on part of his secret.

You learned he was a ghost. And for someone like you, it didn’t take much convincing. However, you weren’t scared of him in the slightest. It did make you more cautious around the other ghosts and ghouls that forever took residency in the hotel, but never around James. And he promised himself he’d never allow you to find out of his dark side, the murder side of him. That was a side of him that he kept hidden away because he had found such joy through you that he almost didn’t need to feel the excitement of killing others by his own hands.

He knew someone like you would never be okay with murder. Especially if those who were innocent. And he didn’t expect you to ever change that part of you, so he simply never let you in on that secret side of him.

It was easy.

Besides Devils Night.

That was hard the first time you had been in the hotel during it. But, he was able to keep you preoccupied long enough with the help of Liz to get the night over with, where he expressed to the other monsters he guessed that you were completely and utterly off limits.

But the years spent together after that, Devils Night was never a concern. You never even caught on.

But the years spent with James were years he spoiled you rotten. He’d buy you anything you expressed interest in. He’d shower you in flowers. He’d run you a bath every night. He simply could not do enough for you to feel satisfied, because he was just that in love with you.

And though you were just as in love with him, he’d never allow you to go above and beyond for him the way he did for you. You would try, and he’d stop you. The most you were able to do for him was buy him his favorite cologne or alcohol, even when you had no idea about anything alcohol related. He loved the gesture, but never let you do much more.

You weren’t sure what you did to deserve someone like James. Needless to say, you never went to your job interview that first time staying in the hotel. And only a few months later, you basically lived in the hotel. Only some months after that, you stayed with James in his suite 24/7. At that point, you were his and he was yours. Even now, 6 years later.

You made it so easy for him, too. You never questioned anything. He was able to run three quarters of his life with you while using the other quarter to fulfill his murder tendencies and keep the hotel running accordingly. He even managed to keep you from meeting the countess, somehow. He had Liz and Sally to thank for that. He was aware of the mess that could bring, and he was in such a good place with you, wrapped around each others fingers.

That nearly came to an end.

“My love?” You entered the living area of your suite where James had been filling his cup with whatever alcohol he was drinking this time. He glanced at you and smiled brightly.

“Yes dear?” He sips while eyeing you so you’d know you had his full attention. You smiled, a half way smile, not your typical smile, and James immediately became concerned. “What is it? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, James, really.. it’s just.. I had an encounter today. With—“

“Elizabeth.” James finished your sentence, noticeably unhappy by this. You only nodded, allowing him to explain himself. “Ah yes. The time has come that I must tell you about her.” He sighs, taking ahold of your hand gently and leading you to the couch where you allowed him to help you sit, he sitting beside you. “Listen, dear,” he pauses, seeming unsure of where to start.

“I’m not angry, James.” You reassured before he could start again. His eyes seemed to relax as they remained glued to yours. “I just want to know the story from you.”

“What all… did she say.. exactly?” He asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t care about much of anything she could possibly tell you, only if she were to have revealed his deepest secret about his love for murdering, or if she had threatened you at all.

“She only told me of her past with you. I’m unsure whether it was a warning? Like, her way of telling me I should run while I can?” You raised your eyebrow at him curiously before letting a smile take place on your lips. “Not that I would ever listen to such a silly suggestion. I love you too much.” You grabbed his hand this time, squeezing it. “I just had no idea you were ever married.”

James sighed but held your hand tightly, bringing it up to his lips and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles before setting and holding it against his chest.

“I was, yes. A long, long… long time ago. Elizabeth being the original owner of this hotel, we married and I took over. I showered her with all my love, I gave her everything. I thought she was my one and only.” James goes quiet as you tilt your head, letting him finish. “I know now how very wrong I was.” He met your eyes again with sincerity, squeezing your hands that he was still holding against his chest.

“So what happened?” You asked, curious to know more about him. James kept things hidden from you, you were aware of that. But you were much too in love to question him too much, and some things you knew better than to want to know, so you were okay with being kept in the dark. But since this was an opportunity to learn a little more about his past, you couldn’t help but indulge in it.

“She was only using me, dear. I was a means to fill a void that I wasn’t aware was empty and longing for a past lover. She loved my gifts and my attention. But had no interest in loving me like I did her. Later, her past lover showed up out of nowhere and she was planning to run away with him. After that, I no longer cared for her.”

“But, she’s still here? Why?”

James went silent, not sure how to fill this part of the story. He didn’t kill Rudolph or Natacha. But he did lock them in this hotel and remove the door so they’d have to spend eternity here… since they were already vampires and couldn’t die. James felt it was a nice revenge on his now ex-wife, she believes they re-abandoned her all over again. She loves her life in anger and wonder, and it’s so sweet for James to see.

“They left her. Abandoned her again.” He nodded. You frown, feeling somewhat sympathetic for Elizabeth. “Don’t frown for the woman!” James states, a deep frown on his own face. “She was a monster, dear. I know you’re not one to feel this way for anyone you know but, she got all she deserved.”

You gazed at him for a moment as you took in his words before sighing and taking your hands from hi, resting one hand on the side of his face. “I do love you, James. So very much.” James leans into your hand, his eyes closing as he takes in the feeling of your skin against his, your scent so strong and as intoxicating as the alcohol he sips daily. “You don’t have to feel anger anymore, though. You can let it go, all the hurt and betrayal that woman caused you. She is no longer worth your while. For your own happiness, you should let it go.”

James listened to you, knowing your words held so much truth. It amazes him at times, how a woman of your culture could be so intelligent, so mature past your young age. He was blessed beyond words.

“You’re right, dear. You are very right.” He takes ahold of and turns his face into your hand, kissing from your palm up the majority of your soft, fragile arm. You smiled in awe as you watched him, his eyes glancing up to meet yours. “You amaze be every day.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Because you keep me on my toes every day. Never can know just what to expect here, but I would never trade it for anything.”

—

[drowningyoursorrow]

WHITE FERRARI

tate langdon x gn! reader

You reminisce about your lover, the days that you spent together during your years of being high school sweethearts. And on how it ended so quickly and so suddenly. You've grown older and as soon as you did, you left where the both of you resided immediately, the remembrance of him pained you. In hopes for one last connection, you buy his childhood home, which was now abandoned. Slowly you started to feel as if you see him everywhere, maybe it was your imagination.

!!!: kissing? violence (guns, shooting, death, etc.) & minor mentions of drugs W/C: 3.5k

TATE LANGDON was his name, at first in the beginning, before the two of you first met you thought of him as sort of odd. He didn't really fit in, almost as if he didn't want to in a way. He had the looks, god he had the looks, short blonde hair and his dark eyes that made you still. You never really interacted with groups and sort of did your own thing, just minding your own business. Occasionally, you'd encounter Tate, you decided to only interact with him when it's really necessary.

You never really judged him, you just didn't want to partake in any social cliques and didn't have any friends really. Tate seemed to sense this, and it furthered his sudden interest in you, although you two weren't entirely similar. He felt a bond with you, you didn't feel it or didn't acknowledge it at first, and that was fine with him. He would study you from afar and felt as if you didn't belong with anybody here but him, but he was far too scared to interact with you. You felt the same, but you believed that he was constantly judging you whenever his brown orbs locked with yours.

Soon the two of you would look for each other in the rows of people crowding the long hallways. Forming a silent connection with one another, and slowly you would begin to openly communicate with each other. Just small hi's and hello's, yet both of you wanted to say more but never knew how to say it. Tate was smart, but that didn't seem to be his main catching point. No, it was the shy smiles he would give you once you two would sit together in the cafeteria.

It was how he would talk about how high school was just boring as ever and that the only two people that matter. Were you two. You were perfect in his eyes, everything that he's ever dreamed of, you didn't fit in, and you didn't want to. Just like him. It was almost as if you two were meant to be together, but you didn't realize it as quickly as he did.

And he was gladly willing to wait, I mean the two of you weren't even dating yet, so who was he to tell? Your relationship together did grow, eventually spending more time and time together. You always hung out at your place, him never wanting to be at his and finding comfort in your room. He loved everything about it, he loved everything about you, he loved everything you did and said. He was so infatuated with you.

As you were with him, it wasn't because he was different, it was because he simply was himself. He always sought safety with you, and you gladly provided that solitude for him. Tate was truly the most beautiful person that your eyes could ever lay on, his boyish charm drawing you in. He always made sure that you felt comfortable and swore to do everything to protect you from those judging eyes. It didn't matter to either of you on how you appeared to the rest of the world, only mattering to each other.

Eventually, both of you wanted more, but Tate was too in his head about it, so you decided to make the first move. He finally let you come to his house, but only when his mother wasn't home. You remember how he would cry to you about his troubles and worries with her, you despised the woman deeply. You remember him telling you about how his dad left, not really wanting to talk about it. And you never pushed.

You traced the items in his room, observing every corner and every object that you could come into contact with. He only watched you do so, basking in your presence, content with you being in his closure. Eventually, you seated yourself at the end of his bed, him crawling to lay beside you. Resting his head on your lap and placed your hands in his hair. You brushed through his golden locks and felt him ease into you, as he stared at you with those eyes.

You felt your chest tighten and butterflies fill your stomach, the feeling was new, so you turned away from him. Furthermore, you placed your hands on your side and closed your eyes, releasing a profound sigh. You hated that he looked at you--as if he was in love with you because you… you wanted him to. He quickly sat up and stared up at you, worry taking over his features, overthinking the situation. You felt him tense up beside you, knowing it was his insecurities taking over.

Opening your eyes, you looked at him and just gave a smile, it was enough to ease him but not enough to calm him. You thought for a moment, finally deciding to let your feelings take over. Lifting his palm, you placed it over your face and lightly kissed the end of his fingertips. Tate didn't know what to do, he only stared in awe as you let his hand cradle the side of your face. You stared ahead for a moment as Tate observed your features, wanting to know what you were thinking; what you'd do next.

He didn't expect tears to fall from your eyes as you trembled just beneath him, he perked up and held you more steadily. He was more concerned now and yet even though you were crying, he didn't see any hint of sadness on your features. Only disappointment, which he thought was far worse. Instead, he let you sob into his shoulder and grip onto him as if he was going to leave you any second. He could only whisper words of affirmations into your shoulder as tears also escaped him, the image of seeing you cry made him ache.

You both held onto each other, letting everything out that the two of you bottled and hid away from one another. Only then did you look at him in the eyes, wiping away the tears that slid down his face mournfully. And let the words escape you, "I think I love you." He stilled underneath you, a mix of emotions taking over his features, he was scared to do or say anything. In case you tried to change your mind, you took his quietness the wrong way and retreated away from him.

This made Tate scared, so he quickly, without thinking, reached over to you and kissed you. He kissed you as if you two were dying in each other's arms, and this was the last moment the both of you shared together. It was messy and horrible, but the feeling the both of you shared made up for all of it. You two belonged with each other. You both just rested your foreheads together, childish giggles escaping the both of you as you smiled.

It was like the both of you just received candy for the first time, it was like you two achieved the world together. You two only stayed there for a moment before laying back down together in each other's embrace. Oh, how you wish you could stay at this moment forever together, just with each other. Eventually you two had to depart, but instead of being sullen, you both looked forward to what is to come. Tate was over the moon that night, finally achieving the person of his dreams, he replayed the moment you two shared over and over again; before he eventually fell asleep.

The days and months passed by, and it was all wonderful, the time you two would share together. All the new things that you could finally do with one another, the dates were remarkable. You never thought you could love someone like you loved Tate, and he never thought he can love someone like you again. The ache that he always felt was eventually filled with you and you only, he made you feel like you really did matter. You two were just love sick fools, and it was the best thing in the world.

The years moved forward and everything began to change, and so did the both of you, for the better and for the worse. You decided to focus more with your studies, which meant less time for Tate, and he didn't enjoy it. Not one bit, he would try to reason with you, but he just wouldn't listen, he didn't understand. He didn't care about school, he just cared about you, and that was the problem. He brushed off on how difficult it was for you in school, it was easy for him because of his natural intelligence.

Every time he told you that you'd be fine, you felt as if he was condescending you because it was all just so easy for him. He couldn't understand you, and you began to not be able to understand him. Fights began to become frequent, and you couldn't take it anymore, you loved him, you really did, but you needed to focus on yourself. Before you could focus on him, and he didn't get that concept, so asking for a break wasn't easy. It was hard for the both of you, but Tate handled it worse than you did.

You sat him down in his room and stood before him, Tate suspected what this was about, yet he couldn't come to terms with it. So when your tone shifted to more serious, and you avoided eye contact with him, he denied everything you said. He wouldn't listen and began to sob hysterically and breaking everything he could reach, he couldn't accept it, he didn't want to. Tate wasn't listening to you, so you just decided to leave, you couldn't handle this. He fell to his knees and grabbed onto you, breaking down as he clung onto your legs.

He eventually let you go, and you turned away from his cries, this was only for a moment, you'll be back. But did he know that? You haven't heard from him ever since that day, he stopped showing up to the school. And he didn't reply to your calls and messages, maybe you shouldn't have done this. You began to regret your decision.

After a month or so he reappeared again, a black coat adorning his frame as he strutted past you, almost as if you weren't there. His expression was off, and he seemed out of it, usually he was, but not like this. It was unsettling. You brushed it off, just glad that he was finally back. You headed off to the library to study, since it was quieter there and you could relax peacefully.

You were settled into a corner of the room before you heard a loud noise, you looked around and everyone seemed just surprised as you were. Before it was heard again and screaming from the distance, it finally clicked. Those were gunshots. Everyone in the library began to panic, and the teacher tried to barricade the doorways as everyone hid in separate areas. You quickly rushed under two desks and enclosed in between chairs as silence took place. Then there it was, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the library, you were terrified.

What scared you more was if Tate was hurt, he was always quick, so you hoped for the best. You hoped for his safety. Then you heard crashing and banging, you shook and held in your cries. Then there it was, they got in. You could only hold your breath as you heard the steps circle around the room.

And before you knew it, you heard mumbling, then a frantic voice and then a bang. You couldn't believe this, you didn't want to, you heard more yelling and pleads and just held your head in between your arms. You didn't want to die, not like this, you still wanted to reconcile with Tate. You still wanted to be with him. Through your fingers, you could see the corpses, but you couldn't see the perpetrator.

Fear took through you as you suddenly realized that they were standing before you, peering through the chairs. And you felt your heart stop, there stood the boy you loved for years. His once beautiful and soul driven eyes staring downward at you, lifeless. You stilled, and you felt tears cascade down your face as a pained expression took place. All you could do was shake and mouth a silent, why?

His expression didn't change, and the gun still was held within his grip as he took in your features. You only cowered beneath him and closed your eyes, sorrowfully content with dying by the hands of your beloved. But the more you waited, there was nothing, eventually you opened your eyes and no longer stood Tate. He was gone. You soon heard the wailing of sirens and the cries of students and teachers, you only laid frozen.

Why hadn't he shot you?

...

Years have passed, and the question still played in your mind, the guilt hasn't subsided. Why were you the surviving victim? Eventually you did grow from it and as soon as you turned 18 you left L.A, you stayed in a different city for a while before you returned. You didn't want to keep running away, you needed to confront it, yet it was still difficult. You stood in front of the house before you, it's much older now but still looked the same as before.

It was his house, you thought if you bought the place it would bring comfort to you. But it only felt unsettling when you stepped inside, you heard what happened to him right after the shooting. Being gunned down, before you couldn't even think about, but now it just leaves a bitter taste at the tip of your tongue. Exploring the house and the rooms, you felt as if you were already being watched, ever corner you turned. Ghostly eyes following your figure.

You've heard of deaths correlated with this house yet for some reason you weren't so scared about dying here. You eventually brushed away the thought and settled with staying in a different room, not wanting to sleep in his. That was the only difficult part in being in the house, so to distract yourself you got a job. You were gone most of the time, this time you decided you needed a few drinks with your coworkers. Eventually, you came stumbling home in a drunken state and laid in which room was the closest.

You felt the sheets beneath you as you tried to make sense of where you were, realization hit you as you gathered your senses. It was his room. Everything seemed to be the same beside minor differences, someone else must've lived here before. You could imagine his faint smell and basked in it for just a moment, you peered up as it felt like someone was staring down at you. There he was looking down at you, he held a confused expression, you shrieked and curled away from him.

Holding your head as you tried to recollect yourself, just telling your imagination to go away. It was silent, then he was gone. Were you hallucinating? Unsure of what to make up of what just happened, you just silently cried as you buried yourself into the bed. You missed him terribly, although you shouldn't, you cried yourself to sleep that night.

A ghost watched over you, he could only really stare from afar, afraid to scare you like he did before. Oh, how he wanted to hold you once more, he's spent so long without you, and he finally had you again. He couldn't ruin this, your absence broke him deeply and still hadn't fully moved on from you. He tried to with someone new, violet, but he knew in his core that he wouldn't love anybody like you. It ended as soon as it began, and now he had you again.

You awoke abruptly, the sun radiating through the room's window, were you dreaming last night? Brushing it off, you stumbled out of bed and went back into your room. Ever since then, every night when you would return home, there he stood, looking down at you. You could never make out what type of expression he was making, but it always felt mournful, you were too scared to reach out back to him. But as the months passed by, you stopped trying to hide and push away the remembrance of him.

One particular night when he would appear once more, just to check up on you, too scared to do anything more or less. You reached toward him this time, instead of telling him to go way, and held him gently as you observed his features. He avoided your gaze but let himself melt into your touch, he missed this. Even if this was just your imagination, you loved every second of it, he looked the same as he did before. "I've dreamed of this," was all you said as you held him a little longer, before eventually pulling away.

This felt torturous to the both of you, and you knew you shouldn't do this to yourself, he was only your imagination. So you let go, you pushed him away as you closed your eyes, and he could only stare down at you. He wanted to hold you like he used to, but he knew better, time will tell. Eventually he did show up more around different areas of the house, and you just took it as you slowly becoming crazy. Because he never spoke to you, only stared and let you do what you wanted while he was in your presence.

You didn't mind going insane, only if you could see and feel him a bit more, maybe then it wouldn't be so bad. This time you stared at his dark irises, taking in his form, he hasn't changed, just as you remembered him. "You know, I couldn't bare to say your name after what you did. I was too scared, I felt too guilty to even utter the first letter." Silence overtook you as his expression shifted into remorse, you didn't take notice, instead you continued.

Turning away from him, your throat began to feel dry as you stared forward, not wanting to look at him anymore. You buried your face into the palms of your hands as tears slowly began to take over. "Why'd you do it? Why would you do that? Was it because of me? Did I push you too far? Why would you leave me alive? Why...?" You didn't expect an answer, and you didn't get one, sobs raked through you as you clung onto yourself. What you didn't suspect was him to envelop you into a hug, something familiar.

You let him hold you, a strange feeling taking over you, he was physically there yet he felt so cold. "Why can't you be real?" Was all you muttered before you pushed him away from you and headed out the front door, needing some air. He tried to say something, but his words were caught in his throat as he watched you leave, time will tell entered his mind once more. You came home late that night, only to discover he was where you left him, patiently waiting for your return.

You only gave him a short glance before heading back to your room, letting your thoughts consume you. Staring upward at the ceiling before, you felt a dip in the mattress beside you. He was curled next to you but kept his distance on the bed, not wanting to bother you. He just wanted to be near you. You thought for a moment, slipping your arms around him and pulled him closer to your frame.

Holding him like you used to, a content sigh escaped his lips, relishing in the sentimental feeling. He missed this more than anything, you just holding him and comforting him, it was all he needed. You shakily kissed his forehead and let yourself cherish this moment, you really wished this was real. But you knew he would be gone by morning, and you would go busy yourself once more. "I love you."

The words unconsciously slipped through your lips as sleep took over, and you held him closer. He didn't say anything, he wanted to, but he knew if we were to he would have to answer questions he didn't want to answer. Sure, he was selfish for acting like he couldn't speak to you, but eventually he was going to have to. So, he was going to enjoy this as long as he could, and maybe he will come clean about his whole being dead thing. Just above a whisper, he hid into your arms for more closure, "I love you too."

He hoped you wouldn't have heard his confession, but you had, and a small smile formed on your lips. You would take all the drugs in the world just to keep seeing him and being near him. He was all you ever really did want in this godforsaken world, it was a blessing and a curse. Because in the end all you two ever wanted in the world was each other, one way or another you both were going to achieve it. What you didn't know was that maybe Tate Langdon wasn't just your imagination.

..............................................................................................................................

- I am back from writer's block, hope this was a sufficient apology - Frank Ocean is my soul honestly - Briefly proofread (skimmed) - Maybe a part two if I'm feelin it

Hope you enjoyed and if you have any requests or questions please dm!

[nahoyasboyfriend]

Obedience & punishment

a/n: baby's first angst fic and my first time writing kit. hopefully this isn't too bad 😭 I tried.

warning: I don't think there's anything besides caning.

word count: 1.6k

sister mary had changed after she took over briarcliff. she wasn't the meek girl you'd seen from afar. She was cruel, outspoken, and authoritative. you happened to be the one chosen to do her bidding. so when she unexpectedly asked you to go fetch kit walker, it made you wonder what she wanted from him.

“if I may ask, can I know what you need him for?” you mumble, keeping your voice measured.

she glances at you, mouth flattening into a thin line, and then tersely replied, “he’s in trouble.”

nodding, you don't press it any further, and scurry off to go find him. you don't know why he's in trouble. you haven't heard any rumors about what he could've done, and nobody mentioned anything until now. you hadn't spent any personal time with him, but he seemed nice, or at least as nice as you could be stuck in here. he was cordial the few times the two of your paths crossed, and it was surprising that such a mild mannered man could do the horrible things he did.

surveying the bleak common room, your eyes hone in on him. even from afar you see how the asylum was wearing down on him. he was staring off into the distance, wholly out of touch with the real world. his spirit had dulled, emptiness filling the void where ardent desire to be free once burned. your heart aches simply looking at his despondent form. his eyes had grown heavy bags underneath them, his lips chapped. he looked a mess. you edged closer, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, but he noticed you before you could, flinching away. it was a justified reaction so you didn't acknowledge it, “I need you to come with me.”

he eyes you cautiously, chewing on his bottom lip, “why?”

you give a weak shrug, “sister mary asked for you.”

it takes a moment for him to get up, but eventually he slowly rises from his seat. your eyes follow him up until he's standing in front of you. then you turn around and head straight to her office. she doesn't appreciate waiting. occasionally, you peek behind you to see if he's still there, feeling a sense of relief wash over you when you do.

once you reach her door, you shoot one more cursory glance his way before knocking. you hear a muffled voice, that you assume is telling you to come in so you do. you push the door open, holding it so kit can slip by. you go to leave, but you hear her say, “no, stay. I need you to do something.”

rather hesitantly, you follow him in, letting the door fall shut behind you. she gets up out of her seat, walking around to lean on the desk. the tension kills you, makes an aching pit in your stomach. it makes you feel uncomfortable in your own skin.

“confess,” she proclaims. he looks confused like he's unaware of what she's questioning him about.

“admit that you murdered those women,” she asserts, crossing her arms and cocking her head.

“I didn't do it,” he snaps, like he’s repeated many times before. you've heard those words so much they've started to become blurry. a muddled heap of truth and lies. it doesn't matter if it's true. nothing they say really matters in briarcliff but they say it anyway. usually because it's what they want to hear, what they need to believe to survive in this place. if you're guilty then you deserve it, and nobody wants to believe they deserve this.

sister mary lets out an annoyed sigh, a frown tugging at her features. she falls silent for a few seconds, then she looks at you, “go grab a cane.”

she barely spares him a glance as she says, “pull your pants down and bend over.”

she pushes herself off the desk, stepping to the side. succumbing to his fate, he obliges. there's no point in fighting a losing battle. you walk to the cabinet, and pick out a cane. you pick the one you think hurts the least, mainly for your peace of mind than out of concern for him. you attempt to hand it to her, but she shakes her head, “you do it.”

worms breed in your stomach. a heaviness settling on your heart. you thought about saying no, and running off with your last shred of morality. sensing your dread, she gives you a deceitfully warm smile. a silent threat. now wary of the consequences, you stayed. bearing witness to the atrocities that took place in the asylum was difficult, but you could get accustomed to it– you had. you hardened your heart, convinced yourself that these people are supposed to be treated like this. but you had never been the one to deal out any punishments, and when you do it just happens to be oh so respectful, awfully polite kit walker.

you shouldn't feel bad, you know that. he murdered and skinned those innocent women in cold blood, but as you peered down at him, you almost couldn't believe that he would do such terrible things. you raise your arm, and begin the motion to swing, but you don't make contact with his skin. panicked, your eyes flit over to her but she doesn't look annoyed, instead she looks amused like this is free entertainment.

with a dismissive wave, she urges you, “go on.”

you swallow down the lump in your throat, lifting your arm once more. you do make contact this time, and you see him jolt at the feeling. his head falls onto the desk. you strike him again. he manages to muffle his pained cries by biting his bottom lip and shoving his face into his elbow.

“tell me you killed those women, walker,” she asks again. like a stubborn child, he wildly shakes his head. she tuts, “three more.”

and you obey because it doesn't matter how you feel. all that matters is her word and the fact that he needs to be punished. tears roll down his cheeks, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“admit it.”

“I didn't do nothin,” he grits out. his will power is commendable despite the circumstances, and it makes the weight on your shoulders heavier. she doesn't need to say it, because you're already hitting him again, four more.

“this could be over if you would confess,” she snaps, annoyed, and he lets out a watery chuckle.

“yeah, right.”

she isn't entirely wrong, this would end. although, it would be used against him in trial, ultimately leading to his execution. if it wasn't for that, you'd encourage him to confess too. though a sick part of you wished he would suddenly profess everything, save yourself from the heartache that you could be beating an innocent man. your arm aches, and your hand is throbbing from how hard you're clenching the damn thing.

he winces with every strike, though he tries not to. they’re measly attempts to cover up his weakness. stray tears intermittently slip down his cheeks, and there’s blood seeping onto his spit-shiny lip from all his biting. his ass is covered in raised welts and tiny specks of blood from the thin cane. It looks like the air simply brushing against it would hurt. in spite of all this, he remains resilient, taking each swat in stride. you've lost count on how many times you've hit him, or how many times he's had to repeat that he didn't do it. you can barely listen to her complaints, and her snide remarks about how he could end this.

when he still doesn't come clean, mary gets tired of him. quickly turning peevish and brooding. she goes quiet for a long while, until finally she lets up, ordering for you to stop. you try to brush off all of it just as one more smudge on your conscience, something else to keep you up at night, but the sight of him sticks with you. he looks so… broken. piteous little sobs leaving his pink lips, trembling through the pain.

“leave. now.” she huffs, and you can tell it's meant for the both of you. you wait behind to watch him leave.

he uses his arms to push himself off the desk, carefully tugging up his pants. you can see the way his eyes threaten to gloss over again and how his breath hitches from the pants rubbing against his welts. it must hurt like hell. you don't attend to his needs yet. not now, not under her watch, so you wait until he's out the door. you catch up to him in the hall.

“um, I can fetch you some salve to soothe the pain later.”

he doesn't seem too pleased with your presence because he flat-out ignores you, picking up the pace. determined, you match his pace. he scowls, shooting you a harsh glare, “don’t you have someone else to bother.”

“I just wanna help you.”

“I don't need it,” he remarks, continuing to walk away. accepting the fact that you're not going to make it through to him, you stop walking, allowing him to get further away from you. you feel a dull ache in your chest watching him step away. a hollow empty feeling. you just did something terrible to him, and you can't even convince him that you only want to help him. it's completely understandable on his part, but it still makes you feel helpless. so you retreat to your room for the day. you hope that he seeks you out and takes your offer. you don't know if it's the guilt or the genuine concern for his well-being that makes you desperate to help him, but all you can do now is pray that he comes back.

[not-alien-girl-v]

Evan Peters Masterlist

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Characters I Write For:

AHS

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker

Kyle Spencer

Jimmy Darling

James March

Kai Anderson

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

My Favs

Frat Boy Kyle 3: This Time It's Personal

Sick

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

* signifies smut

The Evans

Evans + PDA

Evans as Nicole Dollanganger Songs

Heights of the Evans

Evans x Manic Pixie Dream Girl

Evans + Gas Station Orders

Evans + Internet HCs

Evans as Ethel Cain Songs

Tate Langdon

Tate HCs 1

Tate HCs 2

Love Languages

Tate x ADHD!Reader

Road Trip HCs

Beach Day

Tate Gets Jealous

Tate HCs Pt 3

Tate x Cooking

Tate x Romance

Picnic + Running Away

Fluff Alphabet

Coldstone

Tate x Transmasc!Reader

Tate x Plus Size!Reader

Kit Walker

Anything and Everything

Love Languages

Kyle Spencer

Halloween

Frat Boy Kyle

Frat Boy Kyle Again

Frat Boy Kyle 3: This Time Its Personal

Frat Boy Kyle 4: The Squeakquel

Frat Boy Kyle 5: This Time They Fight and its Stupid

Frat Boy Kyle 6: They Break Up?!?!

James March

Sick

Love Languages 

Kai Anderson

Love Languages 

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙤

𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙣!!! 𝙄 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 + 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 + 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 + 𝙬𝙝𝙖��𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩

𝙄 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙔/𝙉, 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚 + 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 / 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙩.

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖 / 𝙖𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 / 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩. 𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝘽𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙢𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙄 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢, 𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜!

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙙𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩!! 𝙄 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙢𝙠 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 + 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙭. 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮, 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮, 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧.

[feefymo]

The Rorchach Effect - Part 1

Jimmy Darling x fem! reader - NSFW • MDNI word count: 2757 author's notes: it was like a multiple birth but here we are. This is my very first attempt of a fanfiction (and it's not written in my native language) but I worked a lot on it and I hope you enjoy it. I tried to keep It simple. After mulling it over I chose to divide the fic in two parts and yes: the smut is in the second part! It's not proofread because I'm a kamikaze, yes. Little curiosity: I was partly inspired by Saltburn and this soundtrack. What else? I'll leave you to read! Be kind, pleaseee! My hashtag is #ficfymo ! summary: Elsa threw a party for Jimmy's birthday but no one knows where he ended up. Fem! Reader POV. warnings: mention of violence, and blood. I think that's it, for now. https://open.spotify.com/intl-it/track/6Huqy9WdEE3rMazEQgajn2?si=2105621ac0044260

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome.

I'm the one they call the Rorschach Woman; my real name is not important.

Do any of you know what vitiligo is? Vitiligo is a disease but in the maternal arms of Elsa Mars, nothing is bad. None of her adopted children are sick: we all have a gift, don't we, Elsa? I had a boundless love for ballet, I was busily studying psychiatry, I was a "prodigy girl" or, at least, I thought I was. Then, the vitiligo showed up. What I thought was my downfall, according to Elsa, represented the true miracle. I gave up dancing; I gave up on my dream of becoming a researcher. I lost the support of my real parents because my appearance had changed but hey! Now I have my own number in Elsa Mars Freak Show. I'm here to enchant you. To let you read the spots on my face. I'm here to interpret your minds. This is my personal test of Rorschach, offered to you, kind audience. A few dollars and you can study me, myself every night but not every night are like this. Tonight I want to tell you a story 'cause today is my best friend's birthday. The brother I've chosen. Tonight, a big party was thrown for him but there's no trace of him. Where did you go, Jimmy Darling?

Let's take a step back.

I've never seen the camp so packed. Never. If all these people showed up for every show, each of us would be filthy rich. I don't understand how it is possible and yet, Elsa must have performed one of her magics. She says she consider Jimmy her blood, so she claimed to organize everything herself. She chose a party theme: "Normal People". She call it "satire", a mockery towards those who are truly considered normal. Some of us believed her, others adapted to avoid getting into trouble. The truth is that, by disguising ourselves according to the canons, we appear even less credible. Grotesque. Ridicolous. I couldn't resist a subtle provocation, so I made my complexion uniform but with the white of French mimes. Like a pierrot. Totally painted in white, I wander around in a champagne dress. I look like a crazy moth until I find the flame. That flame is Jimmy himself, surrounded by a myriad of strangers who urge him to blow out the candles.

- Happy birthday… uhm… -

- Happy birt… Joseph? -

- Jack? John? -

- I think it's Jimmy. -

- Jimmy? Are you sure? -

- JIMMY! -

The music does not cover the murmurs nor the embarrassment that comes down like a curtain. I try to push and elbow to reach my best friend but I can't. He's standing there, nerves to edge: he looks around, clenching his teeth. He seems lost while he's trying to put an unconvinced smile on his Peter Pan face. Once the candles have been blown out, Jimmy disappears in the general disinterest. Nobody cares, the party continues as if nothing had happened, fueling an atmosphere that has nothing normal about it. It's something like a mesmerizing nightmare in the suffused lights that Elsa had placed everywhere. A luminous design that even turns into a labyrinth in the wild meadow near the main event. It should be a modern fairy tale for the privileged who want to escape from the routine. For us, scum, it's an illusion. A utopia, a warning of what we will never achieve but I don't give a fucking damn. Sincerely. If I'm still here it's not because of Elsa nor because I truly appreciate her Cabinet Of Curiosities. I'm still here for my "acquired family" and for the boy who should be the protagonist of the evening which no one cares about.

Driven by the chaos, I search for familiar faces in the dim light until I come across Ethel; she shaved her chin. She is holding a plate with a slice of cake that she has prepared herself and she's standing in the dancing crowd, with a worried and resigned look. We both knows who the cake is for: Ethel has seen his son, maybe talked to him but she won't chase him. I prefer to not disturb her but I don't give up: retreating into a slit of darkness I collide with someone and jump perhaps exaggeratedly. Paul emerges from the darkness, rubbing his side with a grimace. He wears a hideous, gigantic suit to disguise his condition. It makes it look like a sad parallelepiped. Doctor Frankenstein's Creature.

-Paul, sorry! Did I hurt you?! -

-Nah, no biggies! What about you? You're nervous, what's happening? -

-Well, uh, I'm… have you seen Jimmy? I've been looking for him all night. -

- First I saw him with a brunette, she was dragging him towards El-'s tent… hey, that's the one over there! -

But the brunette is not in Jimmy's company: laughing rudely with her friends, she passes by me in a sweet-smelling cloud of glitters. She carries with her a kind of old oil lantern lit on a gesture that makes my blood run cold: cheeky, she twirls a battered glove on her head and, in one breath of Pink Lady, she's already too far away. Even though I would like to, I'm not going to confront her and complicate things because I prefer to follow her steps backwards. An alarm screams wildly inside me and I have to comply with it by launching myself out of the tent. The humidity of the night sticks to my skin, kneading the white paint that I thought was dry. I'm a mess inside and out but it doesn't matter at all.

- JIMMY! - I call, shout and run. I run, run, run like a fugitive. A voice whispers the worst to me and maybe I'm crazy but I can't help it. - JIMMY! - I keep repeating myself but he doesn't answer. The throat burns, the feet go by themselves, swaying dangerously on the heels. I didn't even realize I had ventured onto the lawn until I felt tickles on my ankles. Fräulain Elsa's illuminations invite me to follow their aura like drunken fireflies and I, disaffected, accept. I'm not afraid that Jimmy is dead but, worse, that he's gone. That he left me alone, leaving suddenly and without me. He promised me that if we ever succeeded, we would leave together and one suitcase would be enough to move to Europe. He always kept his promises, he…

I stop, crystallized in the heaviness of the evening. I hear noises scattered throughout the maze of light bulbs: they come from a specific point but they echo and bounce in the air. It sounds like the clumsy moan of an animal that it would be better not to get close to but I obstinately follow the source to the center of the maze. Once I reach my destination I jump somewhere between horror and relief, putting a hand to my mouth so as not to be discovered immediately. Sitting on the ground is Jimmy Darling. Hunched over, he turns his back to me and fiddles with something I don't understand. He is surrounded by objects, some of which I cannot distinguish. There are a few bottles including one of vermouth still sealed, half a lemon, a shirt reduced to a pile of wrinkles in Granada Green, the other glove specially sewn for the party. Some salt, perhaps? The worst aspect, the most dramatic touch, is a pinata hanging over his skull. A lobster-shaped pinata. As I try to figure out whether or not I'm awake, a low, deep growl forces its way into Jimmy's lungs, flaying them with increasing violence. The growl is quickly turning into the pained cry of an already wounded beast. I won't respect his privacy any longer, so I walk over to him and kneel before him.

- JIMMY! JIM, STOP IT! STOP, DAMMIT! - Jimmy was on the verge of cutting off his left hand with a rusty knife but my arrival ruined his plans. He doesn't recognize me right away and his immediate reaction is to turn against me. He is much, much stronger than me but, even if he vehemently chases me away, I attack again in what turns into a blind scuffle. The moment Jim realizes it's really me, he drops his guard groggily. He is no less upset, nor willing to suddenly change his mind but he grabs me by the elbows and pushes me away roughly so that I don't end up hurting myself. Crawling on the ground, he steps back before pulling himself up and staggering but he isn't drunk. He's been drinking but it's not the alcohol that shakes him like this: I recognize the difference, also because I've never seen him in this state. In his big good eyes there is no freshly roasted coffee but boiling petrolium. His expression, a cracked mask of hatred and at the same time authentic desperation, reduced to its core. He trembles in his sweat-soaked undershirt and makes a gesture that he has never deemed necessary in front of me. He hides his hands, trying in vain to put them in his back pockets, like a child caught red-handed. Does he feel reassured by my presence? Is he bothered by it? He's gasping.

Jimmy what… what are you doing? Why?! - I ask him in tears, advancing slowly on my knees. - NO! - he spits out a scream, trying to freeze me in place. - Please… Y/N, no. Enough. That's enough. - I shake my head, I'm confused and I rub my now soaked cheeks. Gray due to the white mixing with the black of the mascara.

- What are you talking about, pleas st-… -

- SHE SCREAMED, Y/N! SHE SCREAMED IN GENUINE TERROR, I TELL YOU!-

- BUT WHO, JAMES?! FOR GOD'S SAKE, WHO?! -

He hates it when I call him James but that seems strangely to appease him. He stares at me like a madman and, in silence, seems to wonder how it is possible that I don't know the circumstances of his delirium but, gradually, lucidity returns and, at the same time, an atrocious sadness. - That… oh, fuck. She was one of the very few people to smile at me and make me sincere wishes. Did she really want to spend time with me… did I fall for it like an idiot? I do not know. It was her! She chose it, I warned her but… - while Jimmy tries to explain, he forgets to hide from me and gesticulates, so I notice a burn on the hand that he was seriously about to cut off. The living flesh fades from red to the paleness of the bladder. Grains of not completely dissolved salt outline the surface like grotesque lace. He must have poured it in. - She took off my glove, alluding to my skills as a pilot but then a heartbreaking scream and… and… I had to let it go. Instead, I tried to calm her down but she…how the fuck is that possible? How did she not know I'm a fucking freak? It was written all over the damn thing! But she knew it. She knew it very well. My attentions were the perfect excuse to defend herself. She called me a monster, a half-man, an abomination and so on, you know, what's new? But then… she burned me with her fucking lantern. You convince yourself that you have a zest, that you are used to it and yet it's not true. And, as with Meep, the day comes when insults are no longer enough. - he doesn't have the courage to look at me but what he says is intimate. Devastating. Shareable. - The bar of wickedness is raised. Of course! That girl wasn't defending herself. She squirted oil on me once, twice, three times. She was torturing me, only stopped because I raised my arms and… the fear came back. She's gone. -

I'm annihilated. Annihilated by what I see and hear, I undergo the hypnosis of Jimmy's pain which soon becomes mine too. His irises are diluted by a sea of ​​tears; suffering makes him unfairly wonderful. In the meantime I have reached him and, from the bottom of my position, I stare at him without embarrassment. I wrap one arm around his knees while the other grabs his good hand and places it on the back of my neck. He wants to take it away, he puts up a feeble resistance but he hears me sobbing and stops immediately. - Yes, Jimmy: her wish was to hurt you. This isn't a party, it's a visit to the slaughterhouse and we are the pigs. As always. - now I hold him with both arms, rubbing my face between his knees. The fabric of his trousers becomes stained white make-up until my skin is almost clean. I raise my head. My face's a palette used between stains that can be washed away and stains that my skin retains.

- Look at me. Are you looking at me? -

- I am. - he says, with the tone of someone who absolutely has to convince you. He hasn't noticed but he's stroking my hair. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned down. -The kindness with which you caress me has never belonged to anyone among the few who have touched me. Not even my mother. - I'm deadly serious. I look at him with watery eyes but it's his tear that rains down my forehead. - Not even to myself. - because I mistreated myself, inflicted physical pain and consequent signatures but he… - If those are really claws, everyone should have them. Maybe they would learn what kindness is. - if I wasn't the one talking to him, he wouldn't believe me. He would mock me, it would be bitter and biting. Instead he fights with the truth that I offer him and stares at me dazed. Almost angry, hunted. The problem is that he believes me, so he picks me up and it's as if he's looking at me for the very first time. His forehead is damp with sweat, so I free his unruly curls before rummaging through my clutch bag. I make sure he follows my gestures and I take out a box of matches: I choose one and place it under the perfect curve of his nose. He flinches but stays as I light the end and, solemnly, set the piñata on fire. While the papier-mâché lobster is devoured by the flames, little by little, melted sweets and chocolate perish in the meadow. Neither of us needs to introduce what's about to happen: just as I stand on tiptoe, he lowers his disheveled head and the tips of our noses meet. It's the last chance to retract before the soft "m" of his upper lip meets my lower lip, dehydrated from makeup. In the first friction there is the disbelief of all the years in which we have not allowed ourselves and then, surrounded by the smell of burning, the kiss intensifies in an unstoppable crescendo. Jimmy wraps his bare arms around my body with the eagerness of someone who must survive. For my part, I let out a moan and cling to his shoulder blades: I realize what I wanted and how much I needed to be satisfied. Jimmy and I share the thrill of the kiss, so much so that he murmurs something incomprehensible against my teeth before parting them with his tongue and searching for mine. He holds my head as if I were water and he was drinking and he doesn't care about the cosmetic taste I have on; his lips turn pale. He slides down my neck without any self-control and I understand that he would take me here, right now. In the midst of the fire. - Wait. - I try to stop him with a deafening smooch. We are out of breath and the air is irrespirable but he stares at me with an imploring look. - How much longer? - he plead. I feel his blood vibrate under his golden skin, between the vertebrae of his broad back. - You have to trust me: I have an idea. - The smoke screen rises towards the sky and us. We… dissolve in the middle.

taglist: @taintandviolent @silverzoomies @doll3tt33 @wh0re43van @fear-is-truth + PLEASE, If you want to be added or I forgot someone, let me know!

[taintandviolent]

"I can't lose you" and jimmy darling

tw: alcohol mention, drunk!Jimmy Darling, some physical roughness, angst.

It was hotter than the devil’s den and sweat dripped down your spine, disappearing into the fabric of your dress. You stood in his trailer now – Jimmy was by the sofa, and you, by the small kitchenette – feeling like a fool for ever believing him. At his core, Jimmy Darling was a good man, but he was an alcoholic and a liar. He’d promised last Tuesday, after the show, that he wouldn’t drink anymore. He’d promised, perhaps in vain, but he’d promised and you’d taken him seriously.

You’d caught him stumbling back to his trailer in a drunken stupor, and after safely shouldering him inside, you’d told him that you were through - you’d finally had enough. 

“I can’t… lose you,” he slurred, bracing himself on the wall, pressing his forearm against the paneling. “Baby… please.”

“Oh, don’t you baby me, Jimmy Darling. Don’t you dare! Really?” You asked, hands shooting down to rest on your hips. Your nose burned, hot with oncoming tears. It killed you, more than anything, to see him - your good boy, your knight in shining armour - like this. Messy, sloppy, and drenched in his own sweat. “Really, Jimmy? Because you seemed fine with losing me when you were emptying those bottles.”

He said nothing, only wavered and stared at you, half-lidded. His hair was a mess; his perfect coifed curls were separated, falling haphazardly over his forehead. He had nothing to defend himself with, nothing you’d listen to anyway. Sure, he could tell you that the little fight you two had had last night had driven him to drink. He could tell you that he hated the way men looked at you during the show, and hated even more how you pandered to them, making them feel like they were special. 

He blinked, his eyes wet. 

“You’d choose the hooch over me any day of the week, Jimmy.” 

He wobbled, swaying on his feet. You rolled your eyes to the heavens, begging whoever was up there for the strength to leave him. After a few minutes of biting down on your lip, you found it, and headed towards the door.

He caught you by the shoulder before you’d reached the door. His fingers dug into your flesh, harder than he’d ever grabbed you.  “No, baby, you don’t understand… I can’t lose you. It’ll be the end of me.”

[ariespirate]

i miss you- soft Kai anderson x reader +18 DRAFT not finished

warnings- manipulation, fear, cuddling, mean kai, cursing, crying

cute short smut :)

You sat at home waiting for your boyfriend to get home from his conference. You waited patiently on the bed in your shared bedroom.

you heard the door open

“FUCK” Kai screamed, making you jump at the sudden noise

“Shit shit shit” you whispered to yourself

Kai was your biggest fear. He could be the worst person ever but the sweetest man in the world sometimes. You missed him, you missed the man you met in college, the one who was soft and shy.

You heard stomping coming up the stairs.

The door basically flys open. You freeze.

“Such a perfect doll waiting for me” Kai smirked

“Hi…Kai” you were scared he was mad

“How was your day” you said quietly

“Ohh it was peachy” the man said sarcastically

“Are you ok” you could barley make out words at this point

“NO IM NOT FUCKING OK I THOUGHT YOU WERE SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT” Kai screamed at you, making you flinch at the loudness

You start crying because of how much you’ve been nagged on, you were over it you couldn’t do it anymore

“Kai I’m sorry” you finally got words out

He walked closer grabbing you face to make you look at him

“Look how pathetic” he was hurting you now

“Please” you begged

“I’ve had a rough day and I need something to take it out on” Kai said now gripping you hair tightly

“Kai please” you whispered

“What did you call me” kai asked

“Divine ruler” you reworded your words

“Good girl” he said in a pleasing tone

…… should I finish this?

[thatswhatthepoetssay]

One Way Ticket

Tate Langdon x Reader | Angst |

Summary: Seven months worth of empty promises. Seven months of waiting for things to change yet somehow they always stay the same. Trying to change the outcome of an already released film, is just as pointless as trying to leave the Murder House.

Word Count: 865

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Ten months ago, YN moved in into the famous house of horrors in Los Angeles, California.

Nine months ago, a strange yet compelling boy next door introduced himself to her as Tate Langdon, one of her neighbors from down the street.

Eight months ago, the pair shared their very first kiss.

Seven months ago, Tate had asked YN to be his girlfriend, to which she of course agreed.

At first everything was absolutely perfect, Tate would come over every day and since YN has been busy with finishing her last year of high school online, it was the ideal plan. She wouldn’t have to leave her house and could focus on her studies, and Tate could enjoy his “nature walks”, as he called them.

The two teens enjoyed spending time together and could confide in one another about different troubles.

However as summer approached, the honeymoon phase of their relationship seemed to end. They started getting into more and more fights, which would almost always end up in Tate begging for forgiveness.

At first the fights were about small things that piled up, but as time passed their problems only grew.

After finishing school, YN wanted to get out of the house more, maybe even book a trip for the summer. Tate however wanted nothing to do with those plans. He was set on sticking to their regular routine and would always insist on putting off her plans for different times.

One day after suggesting yet another fun summer activity and getting turned down yet again, the poor girl has had enough.

“Alright you know what.” Tate gave her a look but continued looking through her cd collection.

“Why do you always insist on always staying at my house? I there like a warrant for your arrest that I don’t know about?” She scoffed.

Tate simply mumbled something about privacy turned to look out the window. He knew he couldn’t tell her, she would think he was absolutely crazy and would kick him out. He was genuinely surprised that none of the other spirits showed themselves to her yet.

After deciding that silence wasn’t a good enough response, YN let out a sigh and moved towards the door.

“You need to go. Now.” At that Tate turned back to her, his eyes widened at her words. For six months of their relationship they hadn’t fought once. However after summer started they seemed to fight quite often.

“Wha-what? Please YN don’t.” He pleaded.

“No Tate, I’ve had enough. You’re always so secretive, you never wanna do anything outside my house. Speaking of, i’ve never even been to yours!” She exclaimed as her cheeks began to heat up from anger.

“I’ve tried to be understanding, I really did. But I can’t keep doing this anymore. Leave and don’t come back Tate.”

He couldn’t help but just stand there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. Tate knew he couldn’t just walk out because she would watch him leave. She would see how as soon as his foot steps over the property line he disappears.

“Fine since you wanna be difficult, i’ll leave. But you better be gone by the time I come back.” She stated as her pointed finger poked his chest.

Quickly YN grabbed her purse and phone making her way into the hallway. She carefully went down the stairs and reached for the door handle.

As the front door opened she felt a punch to the gut and let out a yelp as she fell to the floor. At first she thought she was getting robbed, but the attacker seemed to only be interested in her.

She received a few more punches to her abdomen, then a women’s face came into view. She had a blonde updo and strangely familiar facial features.

“Stay still dear, shouldn’t be long now.” The woman whispered as she gently whipped the tears off of YN’s face.

Before YN could comprehend what had happened the woman left. That’s when the girl moved her hands towards her stomach. As her fingers touched the fabric of her shirt, she realized it was soaked with unknown liquid.

At first she thought that maybe she had spilled something. However, as YN raised her hand to inspect the unfamiliar liquid, she quickly realized it was none other than blood.

Panic started to overtake YN as she figured out she was stabbed by the blonde. Her eyes darted across the foyer in an attempt to find her phone and call for help.

As she lay on the floor, unable to get up or even move, a few stray tears escaped her eyes.

She had only recently graduated, her life was only beginning. She should have gotten to live it to the fullest and enjoy all the joys of it. Instead she was robbed of that. YN would never graduate college, travel the world, or marry the love of her life.

While her mind was racing with thousands of thoughts, her eyelids slowly became heavier. Her breath became labored and her whole body continued to shiver.

After a few more minutes of agony, YN became yet another victim of the Murder House.

Another soul added to the collection.

——————————————————————————

Ps: Hi guys! I know i’ve kinda disappeared for a while but im back. I would really like to start writing more so here I am. Requests are open so please feel free to send them! <3

Kisses and hugs, Anna

[marchsfreakshow]

Ahem. Hi, I'm here

For the soulmates prompt

11. The one where soulmates share extreme physical sensation

with JPM (like feeling the people he kills fight back) or Jimmy Darling (very sad but maybe when his hands get cut off)

I hope this helps you somewhat!

Heartburns, Miles Away.

Angst

Aaaa I love you Star thank you for this. I haven't written anything for Jimmy for a while. So, perfect<3

"Hey daydreamer, you okay?"

Eve's words brought you out of your thoughts. A quick shake of your head.

"my heart hurts...along with my wrists." Wrapping your hand around one of your wrists and rubbing gently. Eyes staring a thousand years stare into the lake. "Like my wrists really hurt..." A pathetic whimper left you, and Eve immediately knew what could be the problem.

"Jimmy.."

"Jimmy?"

She nodded and took your wrists in her own fingers, softly rubbing the skin there. "He's gone to the hospital.."

It clicked for you. "His hands. H-his hands Eve.. they're-" you cut yourself off with a held back sob. The thought of Jimmy without his hands hurt you to no end. While he was insecure, he could also never be without his hands. They made him. Eve just shushed you, holding tightly onto you and rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe. "They, they can't do that to him Evie. They can't. His hands are the best part of him.."

You both supposed all you could do was wait for a few agonising hours...days or weeks. Until you could see Jimmy again and make sure no one hurt him the way you thought they were hurting him.

[icannot3]

"Apologies and Tire-Swings"

Jimmy Darling x Reader

Word count: 3.1k (another long one wooo I'm on a roll)

Warnings: there's arguing? Idk if that should be a warning or not lmao. It ends on a good note!!! So no worries hehe

Taglist: @taintandviolent @lilthbunny @quickandsilvers @kaismanwich (comment if you'd like to be added!)

....................

The humid summer Florida air is where you find yourself feeling most at peace, among the many you love. There's nothing extravagant about your lifestyle, yet there's a deep level of contempt that radiates through you with warm, fuzzy delight that's hard to beat. Blood relations are irrelevant. Your family has always been within the circus, among the socially unacceptable that are all bonded by the oppression they face in the real world. It sparks a deep level of understanding and trust that can never be broken.

Being born and raised around the same people for eighteen years, you only found that Jimmy could hold such a special place in your heart, different from the others. A friendship that roots deeply into your childhood, flourishing through your teens and carrying now into young adulthood. Jimmy, your partner in crime, your sanction. Hell, your soulmate and other half. He was there through all of the good and the bad. There to wipe your tears when you were still scared of stages, there to cheer you on, there to beat up shitty ex-lovers and remind you how you always deserved better.

Truly, you have no clue what you would do without him.

Nothing brings up the pleasant feeling of nostalgia every summer like the first show of the year. You've been practicing your act since last season. As a contortionist, learning flips to impress the crowd in different ways is a necessity. You take pride in the fact that you managed to learn how to gracefully aerielle across the stage during the cold winter months. Jimmy, of course, was a big help, always spotting you and never letting you fall. He himself learned a couple more juggling tricks. Despite his talent, he still gets unbearably shy about showcaseing it every season.

Performance night is finally here after your long anticipated await. Jimmy is before you, which is how it's always been. Elsa is a woman of order who wouldn't dare to switch up the original line, even despite Jimmy's pleas against going first immediately after her opening. You hold one of his large hands between your own two. He's shaking but trying to play it off, yet another tradition before every show. You stroke his thumb, trying to ease his worries.

"Jimmy, I just know you're gonna do great! Just like every year. You've never disappointed." Your voice comes out as an encouraging whisper in order to not be heard over Elsa's singing. Jimmy swallows harshly, his breathing coming out in deep, shakey exhales. It's a method he's used since he was young to calm himself, something his mother taught him.

Elsa's singing comes to a grand end, colorful confetti exploding everywhere. Her beautiful performance brings an inspired uproar from the crowd. You release Jimmy's hand, stepping in front of him. He quickly grabs his props, the small box full of them almost slipping from his trembling hands. "You say that every year."

You chuckle, fixing his hair back to perfection by readjusting his curls. "And every year, I mean it just the same. Blow their minds, Jimmy. There's a reason you go first." Before he can even argue against your statement, his name is called onto the stage. You cheer behind the stage with the crowd, giving him one final push of encouragement. He's good at hiding his panic, smoothly proceeding to the middle of the platform and reciting his lines. He only stutters once but is quick to get back on track and play it off. You couldn't be more proud.

His hands work magic, although you can hardly see the shadow figures he uniquely creates with the florescent lights, the crowd gasps in awe, which tells you enough. He ends the first part of his act with a joke that makes many in the tent chuckle before moving on to the part he stresses over most. His worries are pointless. He takes three balls in his hands to start, tossing them skillfully in the air.

Jimmy is sweating, deeply concentrated on his task. So much so that he stood no chance when a foreign object in the crowd strikes him in the face. It's luckily not enough to hurt him, but the balls he once held fall to the ground and roll off the stage. You gasp, stunned by the ignorance of the act. Jimmy's concentrated face switches from that to one full of rage. He clenches his fists so tightly his knuckles turn white.

"Do something entertaining, freak!"

It's a deep masculine voice from the crowd. You share Jimmy's rage, wanting to scream at whoever dares to speak to him in such a manner. Part of you panics when you see Jimmy walk to the very front of the stage, his murderous rage clearly radiating across the room. "The fuck did you just say to me? I'll kick your ass!" Jimmy's shout booms intimidatingly across the room. Everyone knows that his threat is far from empty. You hear Elsa run across the stage, the hurried clanking of her heels being easy to distinguish. She makes an apologetic remark before escorting Jimmy away. He doesn't do much to fight her, but his piercing eyes never lose sight of the man in the crowd.

You take the backstage route off of the stage and search for Jimmy outside. Your act won't take place for a good while, so you know you have time to spare. He's mumbling something under his breath in a frustrated manner. You trot over to him, immediately placing a hand on his shoulder. "Jimmy, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

He doesn't respond, flinching away from your touch instead. Jimmy continues to quickly trudge forward, eventually meeting a tree. He punches it hard. The bark crumbles away from the place of impact as he grabs his red knuckles. You once again run back up to him, putting yourself between him and the tree. "Jimmy, stop! You're hurting yourself."

"I can't keep doing this. I won't be treated that way - it ain't right." He sounds so hopeless, like the fire within him has been put out. His hot rage has simmered down to defeated ashes that fall to the ground. His eyes are red, and the sight brings you pain. You try to bring a hand to his cheek to wipe away the moisture, but he pushes it away. "Jimmy, you can't let this stuff bother you so much. It's not worth it."

He scoffs, taking a step away from you. "Like you would ever fucking know what it feels like." Jimmy looks away, his annoyance clear in his movements. "You're not a freak. You never have been. You have no clue what it's like to be looked down on. When you walk through town, no one says a damn thing or stares at you like you're a monster. You don't ever have to worry about goin' into a diner and being denied service because of how you look." His words are true. You were adopted into the circus only because you were dropped off and abandoned next to one as a baby of only a few hours old. It just so happened that you were born with the skill of extreme flexibility. But his statement hurts like a knife twisting inside of your chest. "I know, I'm not taking away from what you go through at all. I'm just saying that at the end of the day, none of this matters. No one in that crowd matters, Jimmy! Nothing bad they say about you is true, that just comes with this career."

"Well, maybe I'm not like you, and I don't want to be cooped up in some dead-end circus where I get disrespected the moment I walk on stage." Jimmy delivers his final blow before stomping in the opposite direction. "Go back to your fucking show." Immediate rage fills you whole. He's never spoken to you in such a way. For that matter, the two of you have never even argued. You feel wronged, and the shock leaves you infuriated. You can almost pull your hair out from frustration. It was only your intention to help him, and he took it to the extremes. Instead of arguing more with him, which feels like speaking to a brick wall, you head back to the tent to finish the night and hopefully blow off some steam. When you return, no one dares to utter a word about your disappearance once they see your agitated state.

Even weeks later, you couldn't help but wonder if Jimmy had always perceived you in such a foul manner. You feel judged and betrayed when thinking back on it. The stubbornness you both share in common has left things silent between you both, not a single word uttered about the matter. Even Ethel was beginning to grow worried, as the two of you before were inseparable. Eve stopped you the one day, appearantly she tried to pry the issue out of Jimmy first but he refused to even discuss the matter. You simply told her that he needed to get over himself without much further explanation, which left anyone invested in the drama all the more confused.

Jimmy, out of rebellion, decided to stop performing in shows. This did little to keep the peace between he and Elsa. She would push him, but with that, Jimmy would shove and dissappear for days on end. Everyone was growing increasingly concerned, and you wouldn't have agreed to speak to Jimmy had Ethel herself not come to you personally; worried sick for her son. She explained how she believes you're truly the only one who can talk any sense to him. And how could you say no to the woman who practically raised you?

You decided to leave a note on the door on Jimmy's camper, which was a request to meet you at a nearby lake. You inquire that it would make you feel better about meeting him if he shows the mutual effort of trying to reconnect by coming. The spot holds a special sentiment between you two. Each summer in your youth was spent there for hours each day until the sun went down, having the time of your lives. Your heart flutters when you immediately find the old tire-swing still up on the same tree. You don't dare to touch it, scared the weakened rope would snap. All of the pleasant memories would be shattered. Jimmy was always such a gentleman when he was younger. He'd push you on that swing for hours if you asked him, never requesting you do the same in return.

You wait for an hour, maybe two. With night approaching and the soothing sound of the frogs chirping, you nearly fell asleep. Until you heard the quiet rustling of greenery behind you. There Jimmy stood, for a moment you almost entirely forgot about the dispute. A shred of happiness sprouted from seeing him in this place again after many years of abandonment. Although he'd grown into a young man, you could still make out the softness left in his cheeks and warmth in his smile that remained from all those many years ago. Jimmy wordlessly seats himself beside you. This is the closest you two have been to each other in a while.

"Can't believe that tire swing is still up." Jimmy opts to break the silence. "It was hardly even hangin' on when we were kids." You melt, finally realizing how much you missed just talking to him. It puts your soul at ease. "Yeah, I wonder how skinny we must have been to be able to both squeeze in the center of that thing." Jimmy chuckles with you, the night air causing the swing to flow with the wind. Another string of awkward tension fills the silence. So many things fly through your mind as you try to think of what to say. Jimmy himself seems lost in his silence. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing.

"I'm sorry about everything. How I came off wasn't my intention. I don't fully understand your struggles, and I don't have a right to act like I do." You scooch closer to him, allowing his body to block some of the chilly breeze. "But because I don't understand what you go through, I just want you to know that you can always talk to me, okay? I want to understand so I can help. You know you can tell me anything, right?" Jimmy stares at you, his eyes traveling from your eyes to the ground.

He stretches his arm out, allowing you to fully lean in as he surrounds you with his warmth. The hug is comforting and fills you with relief. "Well, I acted like an ass. So, really, I should be apologizing. I didn't mean anything I said, I was angry and lost control of my words, and I just - I'm sorry." He rubs over the goosebumps on your arms, smoothing them out with his warmth. "I should have just told you what was botherin' me." You cock a brow in his direction, urging him to go on.

"Honestly, I feel so trapped here. It's like I have no choice over what I do with my life. Sometimes I think about runnin' away, somewhere that I can get a house and a real job. Have a family, a wife. Hell, maybe even a dog." This makes you giggle, Jimmy's always wanted a dog. Once, he tried to take in a stray until his mother found out he was hiding it in her trailer. She came home to discover her new pillows torn to shreds on the ground. It's safe to say he was not allowed to keep the poor sucker. "Point is, I wanna see what's out there. Maybe with you. I just took it way outta proportion and hurt you in the process when you had no clue."

You lean into his shoulder, pulling him in tightly. "Oh, Jimmy... There's absolutely nothing wrong with that." You shake your head. "I want you to be happy, and I'll support you every step of the way." His breathing halts for just a few seconds. You would have missed it if your head wasn't pressed against his chest. He's shakey, a lot like how he gets before a performance. You can tell something else is bothering him. But instead of prying him for a reason, you sit in silence, waiting for him to share what he's comfortable with. A few minutes are in silence, just the two of you basking in the affection of one another.

"Every time I think about runnin' away, I think about doing it with you." He's quiet, his words slow and calculated. The thought makes your head spin and chest feel tight. Except it's not a bad feeling. You embrace it like a warm blanket. "There's another thing I haven't told you."

Jimmy pulls you a little tighter, as if he's scared that if he lets go, you'll escape. "Truth is, I'm so damn in love with you it hurts. I have been since we were kids. I've been threatening your boyfriends for years to make them leave so that I could have you all to myself, as terrible as that is to say." His hand strokes your hair as he places his chin over your head. You can feel his heart rate accelerate, but you're confident that it isn't nearly as fast as your own. "I've loved you since we were too young to even know what that word means, all the way back to when we'd play tag in these fields unsupervised and laugh together for hours." He takes one final deep breath. "I don't ever wanna live a life without you, and I'll stay here forever if that's what you want because you mean the world to me. And if having you means that I gotta get up and sing or juggle on a stage every now and then, I'll gladly do that."

You're stunned, flustered beyond the point of recuperating. You begin to question every idea of friendship you've ever had with Jimmy. And you come to realize that you've been in love with Jimmy from the moment you met him. It was just seen as a forbidden thing you wouldn't dare to explore. But really, there was no use in that because he already had. This entire time. Jimmy Darling loves you in more than just a platonic way, and you couldn't be happier sitting between his arms in this moment knowing that fact.

His hand, his beautiful perfect hand, traces along your jaw. He motions for you to tilt towards his face. You allow him, letting his thumb graze over your bottom lip so delicately you could cry. His nose grazes against your own, the playful sentiment making you smile. Jimmy takes this as an opportunity. His lips capture your own tenderly. It's addictive, like the sweetest liquor in town that you just can't get enough of. He's caressing your cheek, taking his time melting into your touch. By the end of it, he has you completely breathless, but then he eagerly continues for more. He nibbles your lower lip, deepening the longing you feel for him. You wrap your hands around his back. Without a word, he's laying you on top of the soft grass and hungrily having his way, trailing an assortment of kisses and teasing bites down your neck. It's heavenly, a feeling you're sure you couldn't experience with any other.

A loud crash frightens you, followed by the harsh splash of something colliding with water. Jimmy covers you with his body, scouting the area of any danger. Pinned underneath of him, you're unable to see what's going on. Until you hear his hysterical laughter before he rolls off of you. Sitting up, you see for yourself what is responsible for the sound.

The damn tire-swing. Its time had finally come to an end, the rope seems to have snapped, and there it went, rolling into the lake. You found yourself not as upset about it as you thought you'd be, laughing along with him. Once you finally come out of your hysterics, you roll over and lay against Jimmy's chest, throwing a leg over his own. He rubs small circles into your back, savoring every second.

"I knew that thing was gonna fall."

[unidentifiablesubject]

sup fuckers… so i’m back will i be writing again? yes BUT i don’t know how to write smut😔 so if it gets to that point in the story (it will more then once) imma need yall do give advice on how to make it ✨better✨ anywho. it SHOULF be up on Wednesday maybe tmrw who knows🤭🤭 anyway love you bye. ALSO YOU CAM REQUEST A NAME FOR YN but to be fair i will not add details of what the “yn” looks like. you wants dean x castiel? igu BUT NOT SAM X DEAM PLEASR GO AWAY THEU ARE B R O T H E R S

[evan4ever]

I’m almost to 1000 followers 🥹. You guys are so awesome, I love being apart of this fandom.

Im going to open SHIPS back up!

Evan Peters/his characters.

Send in a detailed description of yourself!! I’m not sure how many I’ll take but next few days I’ll do them for sure ❣️

[drowningyoursorrow]

'ALL MY DREAMS AND ALL THE LIGHTS MEAN NOTHING WITHOUT YOU

kit walker x gn! reader (requested)

You and Kit first met when you both were sent to the asylum for crimes neither of you committed. You two grew incredibly close but never tried for anything more, although you badly wanted to. When the both of you were released, you went separate ways, you found the limelight and became a surviving star. Books and talk shows about your experience whilst Kit went off the radar, you try to gain his attention with your stardom. But will you succeed?

!!!: violence, swearing, kissing, angst W/C: 4.2k

YOU still clearly remember the day that you were dragged out of your very own home and misplaced into the asylum. An unfortunate day it was, you were grieving the loss of your best friend. It was raining that evening, everything was aching, and you felt as if you couldn't carry on. How could you? Your dear friend was everything that you had, without them, you felt as if you had nothing.

Before you could mourn any longer, there was a loud bang and distant shouting, outside your home. Fear struck you, then there it was. "Open the door _, you are under arrest for the murder of _!" Before you could even collect what was going on, your front door slammed forward and fell just before you. There you came face to face with a group of police officers, with a few holding guns and riot shields.

Your ears were ringing and everything felt hazy during that moment, then quickly you were shoved into your floor. Your head hit the ground hard, which only made you feel more nauseous as people surrounded you. Soon you felt yourself being roughly handcuffed, then being pushed through the crowds of officers and people as camera flashes blinded you. What was going on? Then you felt yourself fall into the backseat of a van, you couldn't hear anything, you could hardly even see.

Eventually, everything drowned out as you felt yourself pass out and succumb to your concussion. Soon after, it felt like you weren't awake, and you weren't sleeping either, you felt the vehicle shake as it moved. Everything felt so painful and sore, you could mildly make sense of your current condition. Laid flat at the bottom of the vehicle in between rows of seats on the side on the inside. Everything appeared metallic, your senses slowly coming back to you as you felt the cold of the steel.

Weakly you pushed yourself onto your knees, holding on the edge of a seat, attempting to lift yourself up. You managed to sit yourself onto the side and study the rest of your surroundings and your state. It appeared to be the back of a van, but everything else seemed to be barricaded, only a small window in the back doors. You peered through them, clumsily, and only saw rows of trees surrounding the road behind you. The sky was dark and appeared slightly stormy, worse than before.

You wanted to scream and kick around, beg them to let you go. But your heart wasn't in it, you recall them mentioning murder--you murdering somebody. The name being a blur but of whom was what you couldn't remember, your head was throbbing. You tried to touch where it hurt and finally picked up on the chains that were wrapped around your shape. How did you just now notice this?

That was probably why you struggled so much just to sit yourself up. Nevertheless, you lifted your cuffed hands and felt the top of your forehead, wincing at the slight pressure. You brought them back and noticed blood now covering your fingers, drawing in a breath to calm yourself. You relaxed but still couldn't ignore the pain that took place in every part of your body, you just wanted to know where they were taking you.

Not only that, but you'd assume you were about to be locked up for a murder, that you hadn't done. Maybe it was still the grief that filled you or wanting to just lay down and never wake up. But you honestly had hoped where you were going had something for you to lay, even though that should be the least of your worries. You closed your eyes and leaned against the wall behind you, hoping this was a dream of some sort. But you knew that the pain you're feeling was real and genuine, what a terrible day it was.

There was a loud bang of the doors being slammed open and darkness surround you as you struggled to recollect yourself. You felt your sides being pulled, and messily climbed out from the vehicle, still unable to really see. You could only piece out, what looked to be, a hospital? Before you just closed your eyes trying to gain back your consciousness, soon feeling yourself being pushed upstairs. Then cool hair hit you and just for a second, you basked in it.

Only being able to see fluorescent lights above you and faint talking beside you, and now you were just clumsily standing. Before you could feel yourself collapse, you were being dragged somewhere again. Then once again, you were shoved into a room, the sound of a door shutting behind you. You were still in chains, but you hoped that they'd remove it later, since it was dark when you made it out of the van. You fell into what you assumed was a bed, ignoring the discomfort you felt.

The walls were messy and old, everything was secluded, and you could faintly make out a bucket. You just laid yourself back down, making due with a position with the chains. And you closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion finally hit you, the pain subsiding only for a moment. For some reason, you didn't feel angry or anything, only tired, like you've given up already. You thought for a moment, you hope tomorrow is better.

You were awoken by clanging from outside your door, sitting yourself up against the wall behind you. The door creaked open as a nun made her way to you, looking down at you, judging you. You only looked up at her, unsure of what to make of the situation, mainly focused on why a nun is in a prison? "Get up." It was all she said, and you complied immediately, she seemed to appreciate that as she just gave you a smirk.

She pulled out multiple keys and undid the chains on you, surveying you as you rubbed relief into your arms and legs. A grateful look took place over your features as you gave her a hesitant smile, "thank you, thank you very much." That was all you could make out, your throat felt dry and sore, you could almost hear it when you spoke. "Follow me, I need to take you to the common room where you can stay in your free time." You only nodded and followed behind her, stumbling a bit with your steps as she led you through the long hallways.

You observed the walls and rooms you two came across for a moment, and then it clicked in your head. You weren't at a prison, you were at an asylum. But why? Before you could question any further, you two stood before a room that held groups of people. You turned to look at her, clearly confused and lost, but she only held up a finger.

"Just go on, I'll give you a proper tour of this place later, I have business to attend to." And with that she was gone, you were a bit far away from the room, so nobody really noticed you. You just swallowed away your questions and stepped into the room, it was loud and a bit messy. You could feel that you stood out from the rest of these people, but you continued your way around the room. A record player was beside you, you made sure to situate yourself away from everybody.

You were sure that the confusion was evident on your features because there were two, seemingly normal people approaching you. Unsure of how to really converse with the situation you're in and your current condition, you just pretended as if they weren't there. But they tapped you and stared at you, confusion on them as well, they were studying you. There was a male and a female, looking similar in a way, they both had brown hair and were pale as can be. They looked more rugged than you did, beside the blood stains and bruises that probably showed on your features.

"What happened with ya'?" The guy spoke up, and the woman just glared at him, in turn he just gave her an apologetic look. You didn't know what to say, and your throat was still in pain, but you tried your best to sound normal. "I got knocked out and brought here, I thought they would've put me in the cooler or something. Is this like a place for crazy folks?" You let the question slip out, but they seemed amused at your response but remained hesitant. "Ya, sort of, what did ya' get in here for?"

The guy seemed to have a lot of questions, but his expression seemed genuine, so you continued. You thought for a moment, "well, my best friend died recently, so I was processing that, and the fuzz just came in and said I murdered someone, I can't remember who they said, but I didn't. I couldn't even say anything really, I was just put here." The two of them took in your words and relaxed a bit before nodding their heads, "Ya, that's how it wus' for me too. Lana here was put in here for somethin' differen' though." The two of them continued asking more questions about you and the events that lead to you coming there.

Throughout the upcoming weeks, you got to know the both of them more and discover how long they've been at the asylum. Kit Walker was the name of the guy, he was a sweet fella and often got hurt the most. Lana Winters was the name of the woman, and she was more on the quiet and mature side. It took her longer to really warm up to you, but she looked after you as much as Kit did. They told you their whole plan to escape and get out of the place, they were setting everything up and wanted you to be a part of it.

You gladly agreed, when you guys weren't setting up your plans and brainstorming over almost everything. You'd occasionally hang out, Lana mostly did her own thing and you didn't bother her. Not only that, but you admired her in every way if you were being honest, you had placed all of your trust with the both of them. They've clearly been through more together, and you didn't mind, you enjoyed what you could get. You often spent more time with Kit since he seemed to enjoy quality time.

As the months passed, Kit began to tell you about himself and what he's gone through when he first came to the asylum. About his wife and, Grace, he never went into specific details on what had happened, afraid you wouldn't believe him. But when he did admit to what really happened, he expected you to just stare at him and believe he was joking. He was surprised and conflicted when you only turned sympathetic, your eyes didn't doubt anything he said. And that's when he felt it, he felt his stomach flutter, and he could only give you a breathless smile.

You two would hold each other when you cried and find comfort in one another whenever the two of you were alone. Sneaking out of your rooms a lot just to enjoy random spots Kit discovered in the asylum, and you loved every second of it. Occasionally Lana would tag along and those two would bicker like siblings, they finally made you feel whole again. You didn't really feel the need to communicate with them when you all hung out, you enjoyed just being alongside them. Lana would listen to your sorrowful stories, and Kit would hold you dearly when you cried.

You did grow more and closer with the both of them, and you viewed them both as very close friends. Well, your only friends. But you saw the both of them very highly, Lana, eventually picked up on your sudden interest in Kit. She pestered you about it until you did tell her that you were quite fond of him, and she could only smile. She gave you advice or things she's heard him say about you, and you pretended it didn't affect you.

Kit couldn't contain his smile whenever you two would interact, most often looking forward to when you guys would chat. Whenever he would come back after a punishment, he would immediately seek you out, since you would soothe him. He pretended like your platonic hugs didn't matter, but he always found himself melting into your touch. Whenever you got in trouble, he would plead to get caned instead of you, it hurt him to see you get punished. And as for you, you even begged to take his caning instead of him, and you were bad as him.

Eventually you two would talk about life when the both of you got out of the asylum, what you'd do, who'd you become. He mainly talked about how he wanted to get married or to adopt kids, he was always fond of the domestic life. You didn't care what you did or who you'd be, you mentioned how you hoped all of you would still be close. It made him pause and think about it, he only stared ahead as he thought about his future with Lana and you. All he said after that was, "I hope for us to have a good future together."

You didn't push, he was out of it for the rest of the day, seeming lost in thought a lot as you and Lana talked. Hoping it wasn't something that you said, you just headed back to your room, shamefully. Lana only watched you leave as she glared at Kit, he wasn't even paying attention, just anxiously bouncing his leg. When he finally did look up, you were gone and Lana was complaining about his behavior. It registered in his brain that you must've been put off by his sudden change of behavior.

He only groaned into his hands as Lana pitied him and his obliviousness, so she headed off to give him some time to himself. But he finally figured out what he wanted. As he stared up at the ceiling of the common room, leaning back against a chair. It was registering in his mind on how you two would laugh and hold onto each other, enjoying the other's presence. He wanted his future to be with you.

Building up the courage, he told you, he told you how he wanted to get out of this place with you. He told you how he wanted to be together with you, to get married to you. He told you how he wanted to raise kids with you, if you wanted to. He told you how he finally found someone who genuinely made him happy, and it was you. He told you that he was in love with you.

It was when the both of you snuck out and hid in his room, you could only smile as tears escaped you. He was scared, why were you crying? But all you did was just smile and kiss him, you kissed him like your life depended on it. And he accepted every ounce of love that you were willing to give. You two laid in each other's arms that night, looking forward to a better life together.

Later, you slipped out of his arms to head back to your room, not wanting to get in trouble. You slept more peaceful than you ever had that night. When you awoke, you could only see Kit sitting alone in the common room, he was lost in thought. He saw you approaching, and a blissful grin broke across his features, he hugged you, but you were worried about her. Most often, she was there before the both of you, so where was she?

But before you could think any further, what he said made you frozen. "Lana--Lana got out!" You stilled and joy filled you, you recalled what the plan was, she escapes and proves you and Kit's innocence. You couldn't even form any words, so you and Kit just held each other, your future was coming. Furthermore, you could hardly even think for the remainder of the day, you knew Lana was always smart, your admiration was what fueled you. She was your inspiration and your support, you already couldn't wait to see her once more.

A couple of weeks passed, and eventually you were able to get out before Kit, you were framed for the murder of your best friend. The thought still angers you and makes you feel defeated, but they eventually discovered it was suicide. You don't like thinking or talking about it, guilt always swallowed you whole whenever you did. Lana revealed that the forensic department was just uncoordinated and didn't look more deep into the cause of death. And what led to it, automatically assuming it was you because of close relations.

You told Kit that you'd gladly wait for his release and that you'll be waiting for him, and you two would get married. And he kissed you one last time before the two of you departed, The tape was revealed, proving his innocence, but it still took some time to get him out of there. During that time you came face to face with reporters, obliviously you answered each one. People even offered you a lot of cash just to say one sentence to them with your experience in the asylum. Before you were sent away, you were having money problems and barely making it to the next month.

So, you accepted each offer that came. Every book deal, every guest appearances, and anything that was offered. Overtime, you became a surviving star, Lana seemed to take the same route as you and you two would soon discuss ideas with each other. When Kit was eventually released, all he saw everywhere was you. All of it confused him, he'd seen you and Lana everywhere and for some reason. He didn't feel ecstatic about it.

He could see the change in the both of you, but what he didn't like most of all was who you became. When you heard of his release, you immediately went to him and greeted him. You couldn't contain your excitement one bit, and so when paparazzi discovered who you've been head over heels for all this time. It was everywhere. Kit accepted all of your attention, but he wanted nothing to do with the press or any of it. You two did spend a lot of time with each other, and you were giving offers to Kit, which would help him get back on his feet.

He could only stare at you with a saddened expression, all he wanted you to know was why you were doing this? You two had each other, why would anyone else matter? Nevertheless, he never judged you, he just denied every time you wanted to do a collaboration with him. With your busy schedule, the two of you began to fall apart, with bickering that turned into full-fledged arguments between the two of you. At the time, you were upset, and you just couldn't get where he was getting at.

Overtime, the both of you just broke it off, and you knew you felt your heart shatter when you went out your guy's shared home. He regretfully watched you from behind. He watched on how you didn't turn around when you were grabbing your bags, how you didn't turn around when you walked out through the door. How you didn't turn around when you put your bags into the back of your car, on how you didn't look back when you got into the driver's side. How you didn't even slow down or stop when you drove out of his sight, to never come back.

You watched how he just stood there when you packed your bags, you watched how he got out of the way for you to walk through the door. How he didn't say anything when you were grabbing your keys and heading to your car. How he just stood there and watched you put your luggage into your vehicle. How he just stood there when you got into the driver's side and paused for a moment. How he just stood there and watched you leave, without even waving or saying goodbye.

Years passed, and you became more than you ever were, with your new books and talk shows. You had everything you could ever dream of stardom, money, and cars, you'll always remember who got you into vehicles. You heard of his new upcoming marriage, you didn't know until Lana came to you and told you. It was when the two of you were just visiting in your apartment, she knew that it was better to know now rather than later, and you only paused and stared ahead out the window. You were happy for him, he was getting all that he wanted in his life, he was achieving his dream.

Maybe you should've fought harder for what you really wanted and not what you thought was the best for you two. You could never forget the expression on his face when you both agreed to separate and go your own ways. Your vision became blurry as your face became wet, Lana didn't say anything, she just went to you. And held you, just like he used to. You only began to sob harder and bury yourself into her arms, wanting to disappear and forget about everything.

You eventually calmed down and just gave a content smile, you were happy for him. But you knew that deep down that you'll always love Kit Walker and his terrible jokes. Lana and you decided to attend the wedding yourselves, deciding not to tell him that either of you were going. You slowly let yourself recover and adjust to him being with someone else, it was for the best. He was going to get what he wanted from the start, and you were going to happily watch him do it.

When the lucky day came, you decided to dress modestly and try your best to blend in with the rest of the crowd. Kit quickly noticed Lana, but he didn't see you, you made sure to stay in the back of all the crowds. You walked away from the group and stayed in a more secluded area as you smoked, needing a break. You heard someone approach you from behind, and you realized it was him. Surprised, you choked on the smoke in your lungs and hurled forward, the pain catching you off guard.

Kit obviously tried to go help you, but you just shoved him off and turned away from his curious eyes. He shouldn't see you like this. "Holy, are ya' alright? That sounded like it hurt, real bad." There was a smile in his tone, you just nodded your head weakly, still facing away from him. You wore a hat earlier to help your disguise, and it was working, "yeah, yeah feelin' great."

Shifting your voice into more of a deeper tone, he didn't seem to pick up on it. He just chuckled behind you, and you contemplated what to say, you wanted to talk to him one last time. "So how's the wedding? Best day of your life?" "I spose' you could say that, it's a weird feeling." "How so?" "I don' know, guess this wasn't what I expected." "Well, what did you expect?"

The question made him pause as he looked at the view behind the both of you, the ceremony was still going on. He's not even sure what drew him to this place to speak with this stranger, so he pauses. "Thought it'd be different," was what he finished with before heading back to his now spouse. You didn't even realize that you began to cry, so you hurriedly wiped away the tears and took a second. You'll be okay.

There stood Kit as he waited for his partner, you didn't want to look at his expression, knowing it'll only make you hurt more. Why were you doing this to yourself? They eventually looked at each other and said their vows, that was when you finally decided to look up. He was so happy, and you could feel your throat becoming dry once more, this was for the best. Mindlessly, his eyes surveyed the crowd before he finally kissed his spouse.

There he saw you. You were crying, but a smile was placed on your features as you clapped. You weren't looking his way, no, you were staring at the ground below you. Afraid to look up, it was already too much for you. So you got up and headed to leave, Kit stopped the kiss and stared at your back. He was watching you leave again, and a familiar feeling bloomed in his chest.

He finally saw you again after all of these years, and it's the same way when he saw you last. He could only smile as he realized it was you he was speaking to earlier, you who he watched choke on a cigarette. Turning back to stare at his partner in the eyes, but in the back of his mind he thought of something differently. He recalled the question you asked from before, what was different? he expected he would be marrying you. Maybe in another lifetime, would you be the one he's saying his vows to, maybe you two would've ran away together.

Maybe you both wouldn't be cowards next time, you'll always love each other in the end anyways.

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- Inspired by Without You by Lana Del Rey - I have not written something with this many words in a while - Sort of proofread? - Alternate ending maybe

Hope you enjoyed and if you have any requests or questions please dm!