#I will probably change their titles later when they're finished and I know what'll fit them better

[pinuphead]

Hee hee... some excerpts from fanfics I’ve been writing. First two are from the same fic, which is about Angelique and Elliott meeting during WW1 while he was still a human (it’s based on how Angelique and Pinhead interact as if they’ve met before, and how Pinhead talks about hell during Angelique’s time as if he’s been there). Last one is completely different and I have no idea when I’ll be able to post it lol it’s tangenitally related to my hellraiser OC storyline and is just straight up gay erotica most of the way through, but like it does fit specifically into the oc storyline so I kinda want to get some of the earlier story out first. Anyway thanks for your time mwah mwah kisses kisses lemme tag the gang @seeyouinyournightmares @shitfacing    

Transcripts: 

first:  Angelique’s lips twisted into a cruel smile around her cigarette, the lit butt flaring like a church candle. “Besides, what’s your reward for holding yourself back?” she said conversationally, “What do you get if you pass this test you view life to be? This Heaven you cling to, what’s it like? If you behave yourself will God let you indulge in your desires? Or are you suppressing your yearnings for the purpose of suppressing them forever? Or perhaps God will reward you by taking away the desires he made you with? It hardly seems fair.” “Heaven is… a-a place of happiness.” Elliott explained but his explanation was half hearted. It was so strange. He could picture hell vividly, he had nightmares about running naked through hell fire as German soldiers chased him with bloody bayonets and the devil from his childhood bible illustrations watched. But Heaven? The house of god, the place he was supposed to desire more than anything? He couldn’t picture it. “A place where there’s no pain, no agony. No war and no sadness. Everyone is happy, and… and...” 

Second: Elliott’s quivering fingers traced as best they could the tiny loops of metal like skeletal rosary beads as his lips mouthed the prayers he’d been taught. “Forgive us our trespasses,” he begged, “as we forgive those who trespass against us.” But as he remembered those lurching figures coming for him through the thick yellow fog he knew he would never forgive. “Forgive me.” he choked out, remembering the rows of bodies he’d left, the split open stomachs, how he’d ripped open gas masks and watched eagerly from behind his mask as the poor blokes choked on their own poison, then strode off into the putrid clouds to find more bodies to slash with his victims blood still dripping warm and salty down his bayonet, almost like semen from an erection. “Please forgive me… I’m so sorry…Dear God, I’m so sorry.”

third:  Ray turned his head and realised a man had entered the church. He seemed to be middle aged, clean shaven and bald with a serious face and striking blue eyes that didn't change in colour even when he passed under the coloured shadows of the stained glass. He was dressed strangely, greenish brown trousers and a yellow shirt with a green tie. He carried a soldier's cap in his hands, turning it over like a pet only to hang it on the final pew bench's armrest. "Holy father." His voice was deep like thunder and honey. Something about it was compelling, gentle, yet it made the hairs stand on Ray's neck. Why hadn't he heard him come in? "I have come to make a confession." "Why certainly my child." Father Anthony replied pleasantly, "The lord's house exists to serve." The man slowly approached the altar and knelt before it, his head bent over in humility. There was something beautiful in the sight of a strong masculine body on bended knees, bent over into the submission men were so often denied. "Bless me Father for I have sinned."