#SCREAMS TA THE HEAVENS

[spaciebabie]

ITS THE WAY HE PRANCES ABOUT ALL SILLY ITS THE WAY HES SO DRAMATIC ITS THE WAY THAT HE OWNED HIS DEATH ITS THE WAY THAT AS HE WAS DYING AS HE WAS SAYING HIS LAST FUCKING WORDS HE WAS LAUGHING HE MADE A PROMISE TA COME BACK AND WAS BANKING ON BEING THE WORST FUCKING THING HE WASNT SCARED HE FUCKING OWNED IT HE COMMITTED HE KNEW HE WAS GONNA BECOME A FUCKING MONSTER AND HE OWNED IT HE HAD NO RESERVATIONS HE PUT ON THAT FUCKING MASK AND DECIDED IN THAT MOMENT WHO AND WHAT HE WAS GOING TO BECOME!!!!!!!!!!

william's performance was so fucking good in this movie. genuinely so fucking awesome. he started talking at the end there and i. oh my god i love him.

[chocum]

WY@ !

— “even i know you ain’t no good for me, but you feel so good to me” feat. toji fushiguro & nanami kento (separate)

WARNING. you know you shouldn’t be messing with them, but fuck it feels good. femreader (she/her) v in p, dirty talk. missionary, hatefucking toj, namis ur boss, corruption kink kinda in nanamis, pervy nanami, ( 1.3k ) note. kindaaa ib wy@ by brent faiyaz mhm. thank you all for the support, hope u all enjoy bc i genuinely enjoyed writing this !!

TOJI FUSHIGURO — YOUR EX

“look at how fucking wet you are f’me baby. making a mess all over my fingers. i know you fucking miss me. cmonnn, come back to be, doll”

you’re trying so hard to mask the raw, carnal desire that pools and swirls deep in the pit of your core, refusing to stroke at his overgrown ego any further because being here, pressed up against his stupidly muscular frame after yelling hitting, and swearing to the heavens down to hell that he’d never see you again is already more than enough.

“n-no” you spit, an attempt to sound firm but it only comes out as a little whine making him erupt in laughter as he brings his dripping, slicked-up fingers— they’re glistening, covered in your mess, to your face, spreading them in front of you to make you watch how you web and coat every inch of his thick digits, “dunno why you’re tryna act all hard ‘s obvious you want me. pussy’s basically talkin’ ta me.”

“shut up and fuck me already” you never fail to bite.

“only ‘cause you asked soo nicely,” but he always bites back.

now he’s folding you over, pushing against the backs of your thighs so he can bully his thick cock into your more than welcoming pussy— he’s fucking into you like he hates you, knocking the air out of your lungs with every stroke, his pelvis brushing up against your clit because he’s soo deep, reminding you who your walls belong to.

“shiit toj’ it’s-“

“oh, now i’m toj’, hm?” he tilts his head, black hair hanging to the side, raising his pitch to mock your whiny tone. you hate him. originally you had only came over to pick up some clothes you had left when you first moved out. it all happened too quick, the argument starting over something so small, you were bound to forget some things.

you told him you were coming over to get your things; he knew. so the lack of a shirt, the towel that loosely wrapped underneath the deep cut of his v-line was no coincidence. one second you were looking through his drawers for your stuff, the next— well, now you’re getting the shit fucked out of you.

each time he drags his heavy cock against your walls stuffing your little pussy, each time he calls you his, tells you how dirty you are for him, you slowly start to forget why you broke up with him in the first place.

“playin’ tug a war with my, dick baby. shits so tight fuuuuck, nobody been in it since me, huh?”

you shake your head against the sheets, your resolve now dry and gone thanks to his cock pressing your sweet spot over and over and over, moans flowing past your slack jaw, “no. no one”

“good fucking girl. you know nobody can fuck you like i do. who pussy is this?” he’s grunting out straight filth and he’s got that stupid smirk on his face, teeth flashing underneath the characteristic scar.

but you don’t want to give into him— fighting till the end, so you mumble a “yours” your head falling to the side to avoid his dark eyes, opting to stare at the blank walls that have heard your scream for him time and time again.

but he stops, fully plugging you up, making your body tense and keen. “can’t hear you, doll?”

you truly do hate him, “‘m not movin’ till you answer my question. you can lay there and warm my cock all night, ‘s fine by me.” with every fiber in your being.

but still, you whine out a desperate “‘s yours” a little louder, heat spreading and scorching every inch of your body like waves of molten lava. because you need it. so bare and exposed for him, so vulnerable.

“who?”

“your’s toji! your pussy, all yours!”

he loves breaking you down like this, pounding you to a pulp, leaving you so small and empty underneath him to pick up and glue back together.

“there you go” he hums, “wasn’t so hard was it?” before rocking against you again, finally, finally scratching that itch so deep in your cunt only he can reach it. he knows it and with how you keep coming back, he knows you know it, too.

KENTO NANAMI — YOUR BOSS

mr. nanami, or kento as he repeatedly encourages you to call him with a sweet honeyed smile, has a thing for the cute, bright-eyed new girls that come into the office. he’ll fuck em a few times, dump out his warm cum, empty his balls then move onto the next.

but with you, it was different.

you didn’t stumble into his office as hurriedly as the others, didn’t pick up on the subtle hints he would drop, brushing his hand against your shoulder, grazing your blouse or squeezing your arm with his large hands, reassuring you when worried about your workload like a good boss should.

but you never got it. and it made him want you even more.

so he decided to make it painstakingly obvious. saying he needed you to stay later than everyone else that night to fill out some very important paperwork you missed when you were first hired.

walking into his office .. felt different, he felt different. its dark and most importantly, his desk is empty, not a single sheet of “important paperwork” in sight on the brownish wood that raises and decorates his modernly adorned office.

“sir?” you chime, grabbing his attention because he was lost in thought, adjusting himself against his black office chair with a grunt.

he smiles at you, sweetly, to hide his hunger. like a big bad wolf in sheep’s clothing “yes, come in. over here. next to me”

you shuffle over to where he sits, his back to the tall windows that loom and overlook the city, perched up on the top floor.

“come sit” he’s humming, patting at the large bulge in his lap making you gulp. but you obey with a shaky, “o-ok”

he’s your boss after all.

you sit, your thighs opening, spread for him on either side of his, making your tight pencil skirt rise and bunch up around your ass. his hands move to map your now exposed upper thighs, a smile growing on his lips.

“you’re such a hard worker. always turning in high-quality work. on time, too. i wanted to give you a reward.”

he moves higher, higher, and oh.

you’re not wearing any panties.

.. which is odd because he peaked earlier when you were bending over to pick up some dropped papers— could'nt help his curious eyes, and he could’ve sworn you had on cute little thong. yellow. his favorite. did you take them off? just for him? fuck, you know exactly how to drive him crazy, maybe you weren’t so innocent after all.

“would you like that?” he pulls you in closer, your bare cunt now flushed against his unfortunately clothed cock, drooling onto the cottony fabric of his dress pants.

and you smile, “i’d like anything you give me, kento.”

the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. twitching against you as he unbuckles his pants, the sound of metal clacking filling your ears and making you squirm against him, your pussy clenching around nothing needy for his thick cock.

he barely pushes them down, just enough to let his cock spring out, hissing when you move forward to press your sloppy, messy cunt against him. then he groans, grabbing at the back of your neck underneath your hair to make you watch as he slides in, forcing his cock past your puffy lips into your tight little hole.

you’re already hooked on the stretch. your jaw slacking open at how he fills you all the way up. your perv of a boss, slicking your walls with his precum.

“how — fuck, how long have you wanted to fuck me, hm?”

you press your hand against his chest, using it as leverage to roll and rock your hips against him.

“since i first laid my eyes on you, sweetheart”

[hoeforalbedo]

Dolly (Finale)

Demon Alastor x Demon Housewife!Reader

Tw: Alcohol, Club, reader referred to woman, murder, rushed work.

Note: It’s kinda rushed. I tried. I was watching a school play and it was Chicago so I thought why not start it off at the club. I was also going to write a smut but it wouldn’t save so I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. Last part was literally taken from Hannibal 😭😭

———————————————————————

Loud sounds of the trumpet ring throughout the club. It’s not the modernized type of clubs. No, flappers gather around dancing to the music with others at the dance floor. It’s almost as if everyone gathered together to learn the choreography as they all seem to dance in unison.

“Whiskey?” A small lady asks, holding a glass cup.

“I’m good Mimzy,” You smile. You lean back on your chair.

After years of loneliness, you’ve finally come to the end of your days. It was no natural death. Even in old age you found yourself feeding off the high you felt from murder. It was the only thing keeping you sane, ironically.

One moment were falling back onto the ground, the second you were greeted by the gold pearly gates. “Welcome to Heaven. Name please?”

“Hi, I am Y/N L/N, I believe I would not be on that list,” You smiled.

“Is that so? Surely I fine mannered lady like you should be on the list.” The angel hummed and looked at his list. “How odd, your name isn’t here.”

“I hope not, it isn’t. I’m very aware that murder is a huge sin,” You chuckled.

“Oh. . . Well then-“ You found yourself falling once more.

“My dear wife can’t handle her liquor well,” The static voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Oh Alastor, you know I’m not one for alcohol,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll take that, Mimzy.”

“Oh you two are truly a match made in hell,” The short flapper laughs.

“Hell?” You smirk, looking at Alastor.

“Truly.” Your husband answers, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

“Oh I’ll leave you demon couple to be. I don’t plan to be a third wheel. Ta ta~!” The flapper waves, getting lost in the crowd.

“I believe we have time,” You look at him mischievously.

“I believe we do!” Alastor looks at a certain direction of the club, eyes landing at a man sniffing some substance. “I wouldn’t want to waste the night, especially since my wife dressed all pretty for me. Care for a dance?”

You jump up from your chair. “Why I thought you’d never ask!” You smile as Hit the Road Jack through the speakers. The song is very much after Alastor’s time however he found that he enjoys his music.

The two of you get to the dance floor. He places his hand at the small of your back and swing in sync with the music. He takes the lead, spinning and twirling you around.

“How I missed this!” You scream over the music.

“I’ve forgotten how amazing you are,” Alastor compliments, hooking your leg around his waist.

“Dancing was one of the many things I’ve missed.”

Alastor slowly dips you low to the ground before pulling you back up. “The day I took you dancing, I knew I was in love.” No, actually his mom suggested he take you dancing although he was taken off guard when you managed to keep up with him.

The demon lets go of your hands, letting you shimmy around him to allow you to have a clear view of what’s going around the club. He then takes your hand, pulling you back in and guiding you to twist your hips while kicking your feet.

It’s amazing how in synch you two are with how fast the song is. At the same time, the both of you are keeping a lookout for the man that you both could not bother to know the name of.

“Alastor,” You suddenly say darkly, looking over his shoulders.

“Allow me.” He managed to maneuver you both in the dancing crowd, spinning and twirling along with them.

“How dramatic you are. We could have walked!” You chuckle.

“Well you know me, I am one for theatrics. I trust you can handle the rest?”

“Of course dear!” You smile. He twirls you one last time and you spin much farther than you should, causing you to bump into a man who ends up spilling his drink on him.

“Shit you woman this is expensive!” The man yells.

“Oh I apologize! How clumsy of me,” You apologize profusely, taking your handkerchief out and trying to dry the liquid. Your doe eyes look at him innocently, looking full of regret.

“Well I’m sure I can forgive you, if you give me your. . .” He scans your body, taking in the black dress that is modest yet perfectly hugs your curves. Your cleavage peeks out just enough to leave the rest for the imagination. “Yeah, how about you offer me your body for the night.”

You look at him with innocent confusion. “I’m afraid I can’t do much for a night. A laborious task of cleaning the stain of your suit would take me a couple hours at best!” You play coyly although you know he intends to sleep with you.

“I- you know what, how about you come with me. I’ll show you a good time,” He smirks.

“Oh that’s just the experience I’m looking for!”

“Perfect.” The man leads you out to the back of the club. Your back is leaned up against the brick walls as the man gets very close to you.

“I’m not sure how this is more fun compared to dancing.”

“How did an innocent thing like you get into hell?” The man chuckles, taking your wrists and pinning it over your head.

“I lied just a little bit,” You answered.

“How naughty,” He hums, about to burry his face into your neck until he was simultaneously pulled back by shadow tendrils.

“I’m sorry for my vagueness. I lied about murdering someone,” You smile then walk to Alastor’s side.

“Who the fuck ar- Fuck,” the man’s eyes widen realizing that the one holding him captive is none other than the radio demon he had messed with a couple days prior and that you are associated with him.

“Am quite aware that I allowed for this to happen, but I still hate the fact that someone touched what’s mine,” The radio demon says menacingly, the filter in his voice going in and out.

“Alastor, sweetheart, how about we save this for the broadcast,” You mutter to him, putting your hand on his chest. “It was the plan after all, right?”

“Why you’re right, my dear. Well then!” He wraps an arm around you and teleports the three of you to his radio station.

“Oh fucking hell. Come on man! I don’t even know who this bitch is! Spare me!” The guy begs.

Alastor’s head spin towards the man while the rest of his body remains still. “This bitch is my wife and I will not tolerate your demeaning words. However!”

The man sighs in relief. “I do not fight my wife’s battles so my dear, do as you please.”

“Gladly. I was thinking meatloaf for tonight,” You smile as you glide towards your poor victim with a butchers knife.

“Good afternoon to my fellow sinners of hell! It is I, Alastor, accompanied with my lovely wife for the first time.”

“Hello!” You say cheerfully as you chopped the man’s fingers, a scream filling the studio.

“Today there will be music, dancing,” His filter disappears, “screaming,” his voice goes back to the usual, “and all that jazz so sit back, relax, and enjoy.” Another scream resonates through the air as Alastor plays some peaceful music. He then turns to you who has been chopping off the man’s external parts. “I hope you’ve left some for me, ma chere. I’m still rather irked from earlier.”

“Oh he’s still very much alive, see!” You say, pulling the man’s cheek to force a smile on his face.

“Lovely. I hope you don’t mind a bit more blood, my dear.”

You chuckle, “Oh I’m by far very used to it.”

He kisses your forehead, “What a doll you are, me cherie.”

“Only for you.”

“Just fucking kill me already!” The man begs.

“Gladly,” Alastor says, voice deep without any filter.

———————————————————————

“Smells delicious dear,” Alastor kisses your head.

“Of course! We made it together. Is Charlie and her father almost here?” You ask as you place the last dish down on the table.

“I believe-“ A knock is heard. “They are here now.”

“Let’s hurry and greet them!” You say excitedly, taking your apron off and putting it away.

The two of you open the door with bright smiles.

“Hello you two!” You greet, hugging the both of them.

“Well hello,” Alastor says, less enthusiastically as he glares at Lucifer.

“Well if looks could kill,” Lucifer begins only to be interrupted by his daughter.

“Well I’m glad that we were invited to your home, although of course we always have space at the hotel, and I feel so bad for coming empty handed,” Charlie speaks almost as if she’s being chased by something by how fast she speaks.

“That’s absolutely fine. My wife really only ever eats the food she or I prepare,” Alastor says. “Shall we?”

The father and daughter find themselves walking past the living room where deer heads are posted above the fireplace. Once they get to the dining room, the vibe is much more homey.

“You can tell who decorated what in the house,” Lucifer snickers.

“Wow! These all look delicious!” Charlie’s eyes sparkle at the food.

“Please have a seat!” You say.

All of you begin eating, making small talk. “This tastes good. What kind of meat is this?” Lucifer asks curiously.

“Rabbit,” Alastor answers.

“He should have hopped faster.”

The couple look at each other. You smile, “Yeah, he should have.”

———————————————————————

Tags: @notsentimentalll @mixplara @futureittomainn @karolinda007-blog

[jhoneybees]

Feelin' in my body

Here's a little blurb for you lovelies! Something to make up for the long wait on the requests❤️

Characters: Late 70s!Elvis X reader

Warnings/triggers: a little sexual but it's all pretty fluffy

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @theelvisprincess @i-r-i-n-a-a @hooked-on-elvis @polksaladava @thelonelyheart

_____________________________________________

“Baby?” Elvis calls out, turning his head to look into every room as he walks down the hallway, upstairs. He quietly steps down into the foyer, wanting to see if you're in the kitchen.

“Honey?” Lifting his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head as he looks around the room.

“Where is that girl?” He thinks to himself then as he walks past the stairs going down in the jungle room, he stops in his tracks hearing something familiar.

He cautiously takes one step at a time downstairs, frowning in curiosity when he realises the noise is music with a faint sound of someone singing under it.

He sighs and as he goes halfway down, enough to see who's in the room. His eyebrows soften and his lips curl into a crooked grin seeing you dancing around the jungle room, holding his microphone singing along to ‘I got a feelin' in my body'

“I got a feeling in my body, this will be our lucky day!” You sing, jamming around on the plush green carpet. Swinging your hips from side to side as the music plays.

Elvis breathes out a quiet chuckle, resting his hand on the bannister. Shaking his head in disbelief.

He finds it funny that you're singing and dancing to his music, he thought you'd be sick of it by now because of how many times you heard it in the studio while recording it but he's been proved wrong.

“Funny lil girl.” He tsks, grinning widely at how your hair bounces around and the little dress you're wearing is slowly riding up your thighs. Just about giving him the tiniest view of your white panties.

“Won’t you lift your eyes up, children, lift ‘em to the sky, heaven stands before you, gates are open wide, shelter for the weary, comfort the weak, we'll leave the devil's evil, sweatin’ on the stre-” You sing but suddenly you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders making you scream.

“Jus’ me, darlin'!” Elvis laughs loudly, pulling you against him when you realise. “What's my baby doin' in ‘ere?”

You breathe out relieved and start to giggle, sliding your hand up onto his chest giving it a little rub. “Dancing.”

“Dancing?”

“Mhm.”

“Mmm… I was enjoying your dancin’.”

You smile with another giggle, a little louder this time. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, would like ta see ya again.” He responds, giving your ass a small squeeze and light pat.

“Sit down then…the song ain't over.”

He hums, grabbing your chin to bring you into a gentle, playful kiss before going over to sit on the animal fur covered couch. Chuckling and rolling his eyes when you take your dress off, leaving you in just your matching white bra and panties that have little pink bows in the center.

“What's this?” He asks, holding his hand out for you to take, allowing you to climb onto his lap. Still holding his microphone.

“Wanna give ya a lap dance.”

“Why’s that?” He asks, smiling like a teenage boy.

“cause I got a feelin' in my body.”

[schrodingers-romy]

Heaven Works on Borrowed Time [Karasu Tabito x Reader]

Pairings: Karasu Tabito x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1200 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Two people escaping an office party have a first meeting under the stars

Warnings: no gendered pronouns/language used for reader, reader doesn't like their job and is kinda bitter about it, discussion of the fermi paradox, karasu-typical tacky nickname, pre-relationship

Notes: very pointless little convo between crow boy and reader but I thought it was fun. title from fermi paradox by avenged sevenfold bc i think i'm funny

You sighed into the night air, relaxing as the late breeze cooled your heated face. Office parties sucked. You were glad you were able to sneak away from you drunk, overly friendly coworkers, and find yourself some peace.

Your jaw had just finished unclenching when the door behind you clicked open, bringing with it a rush of sound from the party inside before it swung back shut.

So much for your peace.

“Didn’ know anyone else was out here. Hope ya don’t mind me intrudin’,” said the newcomer.

“’S fine,” you said, even if you wanted to scream a little.

You recognized the voice; Karasu Tabito, who worked on the floor above you as part of the company’s legal department. You never really interacted with him, aside from including him in a few email chains; if you didn’t know he was friends with Otoya Eita, you wouldn’t have an opinion on the man at all. However, considering you did know Otoya (both by his reputation for dating or hooking up with half of the office and cheating on at least an unlucky third of them, and because he tried to hit on you during your first joint meeting), your opinion on Karasu leaned towards the negative. Still, you didn’t need any more rumors of your snappishness circulating, so you didn’t kick up a fuss at sharing the balcony with him. You would be making your excuses to leave soon anyways; you had been there for over an hour, which was enough to say you had socialized.

Ignoring the man who had sidled up beside you, you blinked up at the sky. The city didn’t have the greatest clarity, but letting your eyes adjust for a moment revealed a splattering of the brightest stars, visible against the deep purple of the heavens. You wished you were in the countryside, where it was so pitch-dark that you could see all the constellations, and the pale, cloudy arm of the milky way as it stretched above you. Where the air was clear, and you were away from the nagging voices of your coworkers and the ambient, unsleeping, anxious hum of the city. But instead, you were stuck at a shit job you were overqualified for, with officemates you barely tolerated most days, just because you were too apathetic to try for anything better.

You slumped against the railing. You should’ve stayed home.

“Hey,” came the deep voice once more. “Ya okay over there?”

You turned to look at him, your cheek pillowed in the crook of your arm as you squinted up at him. His expression was fairly flat, but his eyes seemed honest enough, so you replied. Albeit sarcastically. “I’m doing awesome, man. I love it here.”

He snorted, lip twitching up into a small smirk. “I can see that. Yer jus’ the life of the party, huh?”

“Yup.” You turned away from him, your gaze returning to the stars.

“I woulda thought otherwise, what with how ya were staring up at the sky like ya were prayin’ for aliens ta come and abduct you.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped you. “Where did you pull that from? Big alien believer yourself?”

“Not any more than’s logical.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued. “And how much is logical?”

He moved closer, leaning against the railing so he could more easily catch your eyes. The indigo of his irises caught the light, and, for a second, you thought he was rather pretty. “I mean, it stands ta reason, statistically, that we’re not alone out there.”

“Don’t you think we would have some evidence of alien life, if there was any?” you asked, sardonically. “Statistics aren’t always accurate, or comprehensive.”

Karasu doesn’t seem off put by your tone, smirking right back at you without a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Have ya ever heard of the Fermi Paradox?”

“Of course. I’m quite partial to the great filter theory, myself.”

“Do ya think the filter is behind us or ahead of us?”

You stared up at the sky with a frown on your face. “Ahead. I hope civilization hits a wall soon. I’m tired.”

He let out a laugh like a raven’s cackle. “Well aren’tcha a bright spot of sunshine? Personally, I think they’re out there, jus’ watchin’ us.”

“Why?”

“’T’s what I woulda done.”

“Ooh, alien civilization observer Karasu. You’d need a better title than that though, right now it sounds a bit voyeuristic.”

“Tabito.”

You turned back to look at him. “Huh?”

“Ya can call me Tabito.”

You studied him for a moment. The strangely gelled shape of his hair reflected the starshine like an oil slick, and the light seemed to drip down his face and settle into the amused wrinkles at the corners of his bright eyes. He was overly familiar with you, accent and tone breaking down any sort of professional distance, but you found that you, oddly enough, didn’t mind. It was refreshing to talk to someone so frank, who didn’t take your bluntness for an attack. Instead, he seemed…amused by you. (Charmed, even, if you were being wistful.)

“Sure. Tabito,” you said, before offering up your own name in return. You ignored the little flicker of something in your chest at hearing it repeated back at you in his deep voice.

“So, what was that about voyeurism?...”

You glanced away, a little flustered but unwilling to surrender. “I stand by it. Secretly observing a different intelligent species sounds weird as fuck, actually. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Aw, wouldn’t ya want ta observe me if I was ‘n intelligent species? No? ‘M hurt, truly.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to say, ‘Maybe I would if you were an intelligent species.’ But something in you held back from using one of your typical snappish replies. Instead, you said, “Well. Perhaps I would make an exception. For you. Maybe.”

His smile was so big that it caused his eyes to form crescents. “Aw, that’s so sweet of ya, little storm cloud.”

Your nose crinkled. “Storm cloud? I thought I just gave you name privileges.”

“Ya just reminded me of one, tha’s all. Gloomy. And fluffy.”

“Fluffy?”

“On the inside.”

“Sure, Tabito.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, soaking in the relative peace of the little balcony you’ve found yourselves on. The stars continued to glitter overhead, with more and more peeking through the gloom of the night sky as time ticked past.

“Do ya need someone ta walk ya home?” he asked.

You didn’t. “Sure.”

-

Unlike his friend, Tabito was the perfect gentleman when he brought you home, leaving with nothing more than a good night and a cheeky salute. You wouldn’t have invited him in, not on a first meeting. But. You had a feeling that you might not be so unwilling after getting to know him better.

The next morning, there was a book sitting on your desk. With it, a note: “For my little storm cloud, to borrow. Tell me your opinion on it, I’m sure it’ll be interesting ;)” Hell. Maybe you didn’t want to believe the great filter was ahead; maybe life should continue on. It wasn’t all bad.

[tsunamis-for-uzumaki]

MCR moments that send me to the 80% of the ocean we haven't seen yet

Here's parts of My Chem songs that make me feel feelings, in no particular order

The desperate, gritty, sad second "And we'll love again, we'll laugh again, we'll cry again, and we'll dance again", I could write an essay on this part I swear

Vampires will never hurt you: "I'll never let them hurt you, i pROMISE". I believe her every time

Also in vampires pretty much any of the distorted screams like the "COME ON"

ALSO ALSO vamps "Someone get me to the doctor and someone call the nurse" and the entirety of that verse - smashing my head on my desk pounding my fist on the ground palpitating my heart with my ribcage ahhhhh (we're done with vampires I promise)

"l i g h t u p t h e s t a g e a n d w a t c h m e KICK OUT THE JAMS"

Fronk's rabid dog backing vocals in Honey this Mirror

The final line in the Dead! bridge (Is that the most both of you can gi-i-i-ive?) literally leaves me Dead! every single time

The grief-stricked, utterly DESPERATE bridge of Helena

Any Ray Toro solo

But especially Vampire Money (when i speak of the milf it is he who i speak of)

And all of Mama's guitar tings (I am dead in Seattle SIR PLEASEDFRWSASRSEAEW-)

boy division

"I MISS YOU, I MISS YOU SO FAR"

Scarecrow Rocals

" ~ TAKE A TRAIN OUTTA NEW ORLEANS AND THEY SHOT ME FULL OF EPHEDRINE ~ "

early sunsets over monroeville

When all the instruments cut out in the intro to This is How I Disappear and G screams "GO"

Also the unhinged spiraling vocals and instruments during the breakdown of Disappear

The Light Behind Your Eyes

"WAKE UUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPP" - Sleep outro

"I AM NOT AFRAID TO KEEP ON LIVING, I AM NOT AFRAID TO WALK THIS WORLD ALONE" (I spontaneously burst into tears when I first heard this as a depressed 13-year-old, i will never forget that day)

The "WOO" at the very end of Headfirst for Halos

The harmonizing fuckworthy rayrard(?) vocals during "You and I" in Headfirst for Halos (there's probably more but it's most noticeable there)

Aw sugar

Desert Song. Especially the first verse

Mad Gear being so fucking old and so fucking alone in Mastas of Ravenkroft

"The World Is Ugly, but you're beautiful to me"

Also the Vampires reference in the World Is Ugly at the very end

Kiss the Ring: "Fist up, head down, Hail! (Hail!) to the King!"

The weird-ass high-pitched pussy-loaded submissive and breedable squeaky moan in the Sharpest Lives

The "ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta" in Make Room!!!

"When both our CAAAAAAARRRRRSSSSSS COLLIDE"

Heaven Help Us

Planetary dance vibes

Welcome to the Black Parade breakdown bridge thing, and the climactic earth-shattering "I DON'T CARE WE'LL CARRY OONNN" that leveled new jersey

G dropping bars in Heaven Help Us (second verse)

The very rocals in the Ghost of You (Lotms version)

Also rocals "One, two, three, four!" In PP

The background "saaay goodbye"s in To the End

Also To the End funkiness

WE GOT A MEDICAL EMERGENCE MEDICAL EMERGENCY

That part in Tomorrow's Money where I misheard one part as "I fell in love with a vampire / 'M gunna throw you in the air fryer"

The complete incoherence of overlapping yelling and guitar noises before it all stopped with the last "Make Room!!!"

"YOU CAN FIGHT THIS ALL YOU WA-A-A-HANT" run in Surrender the Night

Demo Lovers Guitar Solo

This list will only get longer and longer

[lyriumcoloredskies]

Smitten (18+)

Pairing: Sanji x Lunarian!Reader WC: 2.1k Summary: You spent your life as Big Mom’s daughter, bending and catering to her whims. When your mother decides it’s time to cement the alliance with Germa 66, will you finally find something you’ve been searching for? CW: 18+ mdni, older woman and younger man, reader is Lunarian (so described with dark skin and black wings), smutty content with fluff mixed in, cowgirl/woman topping, unprotected sex, piv, creampie, forced marriage, no beta. AN: Listening to Agora Hills by Doja Cat. I got really sick with the 'vid-19 :(. Anyways here's some Sanji smut. Was really torn between this or doing mermaid!reader.

When Mama mentioned the newest marriage arrangement, you had been skeptical. The history between the Big Mom pirates and the kingdom of Germa 66 had always been cordial at best, despite most alliances between pirates and evil kingdoms ending up dotted in betrayal and violence. For the most part, the agreement between Mama and Vinsmoke Judge had been positively tame compared to the blood soaked alliances your mother previously held and subsequently broken. Nevertheless, you offered yourself up as the sacrificial bride, not wanting to see your sweet sister Pudding be married off so young. Your 30 years in Totto Land as Mama’s precious daughter had taught you that Big Mom always got what she wanted.

***

In the haze of the room, Sanji can feel his grasp on his mind slipping, his eyes desperately claw themselves onto a spot in the ceiling, hoping to find some clarity to keep him from drowning.

Sanji can barely recount the events of the last week. Sanji truly thought that his decision on Zou had been the safest one. It was only when Sanji found himself face to face with the life he left behind that he realized how in over his head he was. Every shred of Sanji’s mind told him that he was doing everything in his power to save those dearest to him, that this sacrifice was necessary, but every bit of his heart was screaming for his captain to come save him, just like he had done for every one of their nakama. Plunged into the misery of his past life coming back to haunt him, Sanji found himself dreaming, like he did when he was younger. In his thoughts he was free to dream of the seas, of Nami and Chopper’s loud laughter, of Luffy’s happy face every time he cooked him something new, and of the All Blue. Sanji dreamt endless dreams he once thought died with his mother, rescued by the kindness of Reiju, Zeff, and his dearest friends. Going over his dreams and happy memories, he steeled his resolve. No daughter of the Big Mom pirates would ever have his heart, no matter how gorgeous the lady might be.

Never did he think he would find himself like this, playing a balancing act on the edge of a razor, a moment away from tipping into heaven or hell, with a beautiful angel cruelly observing as he struggled.

A particularly hard slam of your hips back down onto his has him throwing his head back, mind wiped blank and eyes rolling back due to the pleasure of his soft spongy dick tip hitting your cervix. You walls envelope his shaft in such a warmth, Sanji swears he’s burning in the fires of sin. He sinks deeper and deeper into the pit of pleasure you offer him with your delectable warmth. Nothing but whimpers and moans escape his lips as if he was a cheap whore, not a groom on his wedding night.

Everything is too much. Sweat coats his body and Sanji is aware of the soft 800 count Alabastan sheets sticking to his skin. The same sheets are fisted in his hands, gripping the bed for dear life. Sanji feels as if every nerve under his skin is alight, static running through his veins as you continue your devilish ministrations on him. The soft velvety walls of your heat wrapped around his dick better than his hand ever could. Your supple skin is like the rich icing of the wedding cake served at your ceremony, tasting equally as smooth and saccharine under his attentive tongue. Sanji can still taste your slick on his lips from earlier when you sat on his face. A euphoric taste that had Sanji thanking whatever gods and Zeff for keeping him alive so he could sop up every drop of your divine arousal, his face serving as your throne.

Sanji’s eyes, half-lidded in lust, focus on your figure and he is lost in the beauty of it all. Your cheeks are flushed and the golden light of the room only serves to add a beautiful bronze glow to your inky brown skin. His eyes trace a bead of sweat rolling down your damp skin, he finds himself desperately wishing he could be the one to caress the curvature of your breasts so intimately. It only adds to the sinful sight of your breasts, bouncing up and down as you ride him at a mind numbing pace. The black wings on your back with feathers gleaming like a million obsidian gems, adds the finishing touch. You are an angel of lust, Sanji concludes in his mind, sent to break him in the sweetest and most painful way.

Oh, what misery, but oh what joy.

Sanji lets out another strangled moan as he lifts his head to get a better view of the obscenest sight.  His thick shaft parting your glistening folds, pistoning in and out of your sweet tight hole. He can spy the creamy ring gathered around the base of his shaft, your collective juices smeared all over his skin and pubic hair, the prominent vein on the front of his shaft glinting in the light of the room, only to be swallowed up by your greedy hole moving up and down on his cock with practiced precision.

You let out a small breathless laugh as you spy your new husband’s eyes roaming, lustful and dazed. Leaning over, but never breaking your pace, you capture his mouth in a sloppy kiss. His soft swollen lips close messily around yours, and you can feel his neediness. His tongue engages yours in a desperate dance, gliding around and begging yours for intimate contact. You allow your hands to roam over his well-built body, fingertips drawing imaginary lines over the well corded muscles of his pecs and torso, dipping into the valleys and mountains of his perfect abs. When you break the kiss, you hear Sanji let out a small whimper, the sound sending sparks of want and need right to the heat nestled in your belly. Your eyes catch Sanji’s and you’re enraptured by the sight. His hair is messy and strewn on the pillow, surrounding his head like a golden halo. His pupils are so blown out you can barely make out the blue ring around them. You take in the sight of his creamy skin stained pink, all due to your efforts. You can practically feel your ego humming in pleasure at seeing such a powerful pirate under you, writhing and mewling like a needy kitten.

“Feels so good doesn’t it - husband?” you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you emphasize the last word. The man looks like he wants to reply but you don’t let him, eager to continue his pleasure driven torment, you give his cock a squeeze with your core. Sanji lets out a choked moan which breaks into soft gasps when you start grinding on his dick while it’s fully sheathed inside of you. You throw your head back and moan, leaning back to angle his hard length to your g-spot.

You continue your grinding at a teasing pace, the tortured whimpers leaving Sanji’s mouth only serve to fuel your masochistic streak. Sanji is hypnotized as he sees your hips moving in sensual circles, the pace agonizing, pleasurable enough to stoke the fire deep in his belly but not enough to send him over the edge. He whimpers and begs, wanting to feel the unrelenting pace again, to feel your sweet hole milk and squeeze around his cock, like he was your little fuck toy.

“P-please” Sanji begs, screwing his eyes shut. His body squirms under you, hips desperately trying to press up to fuck into your warmth. “m-more” he whines.

Sanji opens his eyes, tears dotting the corners as he looks at you pathetically. The look on your face is dangerous and Sanji knows it. The teasing smile, flushed cheeks, and those eyes. The intensity of your stare has his heart fluttering. You stop your grinding, causing Sanji to groan in protest. His complaining stops when he sees you lean forward. You’re close enough Sanji can feel your labored breath on his skin.

In that moment he’s brought back to earlier today, the sight reminiscent of when you leaned in for your first kiss at the altar. Time had stopped then like it did now. The thought brings fire to Sanji’s cheeks and suddenly he feels too exposed, like you’ve somehow flayed his heart open, and he finds himself defenseless to you.

You press a soft kiss to his forehead, then one to his temple, and trailing butterfly kisses down his cheek.

“My sweet boy” you whisper softly, words only meant for him, his ears and heart greedily soak up the sound.

That’s when Sanji knows he’s utterly lost - drowned in your magic spell. He knows he will always be desperate to feel this love again, all-encompassing and vulnerable – one that can break him into shards too sharp to ever put back together.

Your kisses find their way down his strong jawline and then to his neck where you bury your head in the crook. He can smell the amber incense and vanilla of your perfume wafting around him along with the thick heady scent of sex in the room. It only serves to add to the dense cloying haze in his mind. Sanji’s sensitive skin can feel the soft mounds of your breast resting on his chest, the hard peaks of your nipples poking into him.

A loud moan leaves both your mouths as you begin moving up and down on Sanji’s ample length again. Sanji can hear your breath stutter, caught in your throat as a particular thrust grazes over your sensitive spot. Sanji wraps his arms around your waist, as if to anchor himself, in the fog of lust and emotions which he finds himself overcome with. Sanji moves in sync with your hips, thrusting upward, desperate to find your climax together. Sanji gives himself entirely to you, chasing his high as your chants of his name spur him on. Your moans grow louder, turning into needy mewling as Sanji begins to focus on hitting your spongy g-spot. Every thrust winding the coil in your loins taut.

Pinned down to Sanji’s chest by his strong arms, you’re powerless as he tightens his hold on you to take on a brutal pace thrusting upwards, hammering your cervix. Each thrust drives the air out of your lungs as you whine out in pleasure. Your eyes roll back and you squirm in his arms

“L-love it s’much S-Sanji” you babble out, words slurring together. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you try to find some purchase to steady yourself from the unrelenting pace of your husband’s thick cock. The sound of your nonsensical babbling and squelching of your pussy, is all too much for Sanji as he quickly finds himself nearing the edge of his orgasm.

“Yes – ah, f-fuck, my angel I’m s-so close” you hear Sanji say, his voice strained by effort and lust.

“M-mcummin’ Sanji” you cry out as the coil in your body tightened until it finally snapped, flooding you in depraved pleasure as you whine out Sanji’s name, burying your face deeper into his neck as your mind buzzes.

Your climax brings Sanji to his as your pussy milks his cock until he’s seeing stars. Sanji nearly blacks out as he thrusts one last time, hips lifting your body up as he tries to bury himself into the deepest part of your pussy before flooding you with ropes of his hot cum.

The two of you collapse into a mess of labored breathing and sweaty skin. As the intensity of your orgasms fades, your pounding heart and rushing blood slowly coming back to a regular rate. The both of you lay still, allowing several beats pass as you soak in the moment. Finally, you push yourself up, your chest peeling from Sanji’s, and you look up to see your new husband’s flushed face. His ocean eyes offer up everything to you and for the first time, you think you can truly see him. You offer Sanji a sweet smile, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. His face flushes a beautiful rosy pink. You take in the sight for a few seconds before leaning in to close the gap between you and Sanji, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

Mama may get everything she wants, but this time you think you’ve gotten something you’ve wanted for a while.

Someone you could fall in love with.

[f1nalboys]

Bedside Vigil - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader

a silly little dark bo fic w sorta same premise as my lester fic. icky yucky evil manipulative bo my beloved!!! also sorta eh on this so lmk if you guys liked this!

WORD COUNT: 1324

WARNINGS: whump, character death, murder, snuff photo mention, full on stockholm syndrome. reader no longer remembers life without bo or ambrose, reader 'loves' bo, throat slitting, brief mentions of being strapped to the chair in the basement in the past, mention of reader and bo having sex but dub-con since the predicament they're in just in case, violence, manipulative and sadistic bo, proofread but probably missed something so sorryyyy <3 enjoy this sick freak

You loved Bo’s bedroom the more time you got to spend in it. It wasn’t comfortable, not like the one you had back home, the one you can’t really remember anymore, but it was worlds away from the suffocating room in the basement of the garage that had been your home for the last month. Maybe it was longer, you still weren’t sure. You had asked Bo once, just once, on how long it had been since you had been in the town with him and he had shaken his head. “Don’t really want to know that, now do you, darlin’?” 

You didn’t.

The town, every structure, every car, every blade of overgrown grass and every overturned pebble, all of it was stuck in the past. It showed signs of life from two decades ago as if the rapture had happened and the entire town had been taken, sent up to heaven with the fanfare cracking the foundation of what was left. Except for Bo. 

Bo was here and now. He was all around you, had been from the second you had stepped foot into the ghost town and maybe even before then, and you couldn’t think of anything you’d want more. You had earned his affection, earned the right to be in his bed the way you had been this last week. You had softened the hand of the beast who had trapped you and now you weren’t trapped anymore and you were in love with the Beast and he was in love with you and you couldn't remember why you had felt trapped in the first place.

“The nails gonna fall out soon.” You say and you hear Bo grunt in acknowledgement from the bathroom across the hall. Glancing away from the candlestick you look over towards the bedroom door which was cracked open. When Bo wasn’t beside you, you felt like you were suffocating. He had saved you in a way. Though in the beginning you had felt trapped, had spit and screamed and cried each time he so much as stepped foot near you, now you understood that he had done what he had to to save you, to mold you into the person you were meant to be. His.

When he brought you into the bedroom last week after feeding you, kissing you, bathing you, he had shown you the candles. “The nails are ta’ keep track of the time,” He had said when he had settled you into the bed with him, the two of you laying on your side, his hips flexing absentmindedly against you as he whispered into your ear. “The last nail falls out and it means you,” He kisses your temple and you sigh, pushing your hips back into his. “Are dead.”

You had laughed, just a little giggle at the thought of a nail falling signifying your end, and the loose grip he had on your hip had gotten tighter and suddenly you feel like you’re strapped to that chair again and you’re feeling scared, so fucking scared, and all you can do is squeak out a weak “I don’t want that.” It worked. His grip loosened once more and he’s kissing your temple and nuzzling into your neck. 

“Course you don’t. Cause you wanna be good for me, right?” You nod and that night you are good for him, an active participant now that you weren’t bound. Bo relished in the attention you gave him from that night on, always on his heel, asking what he needed or wanted from you. If he had told you to take that shotgun off the wall or the knife out of his belt and use it on yourself, you would’ve with a smile on his face and asked if you had done okay.

He walks into the bedroom finally, boxers and a white t-shirt on, and you repeat yourself. “The nails gonna fall out soon.” 

“I know, darlin’. Scared imma let it?” He teases and you shake your head no quickly. You knew he wouldn’t. It felt like you knew Bo better than yourself these days. He had asked you a few days ago what you used to do back then, before Ambrose, and it had taken you a little bit to remember what life was like. As far as you were concerned, there was no point in time before Ambrose. Before Bo.

He crawls into bed on top of you and you grin, sinking down a bit so he was looking down at you with a grin. Neither of you say anything for a moment. You stare into his blue eyes, wondering how they had ever sent anything other than a shiver of love down your spine. Clink. Your head turns and the nail is sideways on the dish below it, flame still going. 

He sighs. “Shit,” He mutters, getting off of you and standing, blowing the candle out. The room is dark and you wait for him to get back into bed with you but he doesn’t. His shadow is darker, a figure against the wall, the kinds you used to see down in the basement with you. A ghost. “Sorry, baby.” He turns the lamp on and you blink, trying to register the scene in front of you. He stood with a knife in his hand, staring down at you like a wounded animal in a trap. Staring down at you with pity.

“Bo?” You ask and your voice doesn’t sound like your own. “What’re you doing?”

“Nail fell out. You know what that means.”

“But you don’t have to.” 

He shakes his head, getting back into bed with you, the air between the two of you thick. You were scared. He can feel you shaking underneath him but you won’t look away, won’t even spare a glance at the knife held in his hand. “Are you scared, sweetheart?” He whispers and you hesitate, choosing to shake your head no despite it being a lie. “No? Not scared I’ll do it?”

“I trust you.”

“That’s stupid.” The knife is pressed against your throat and he’s staring down at you with the same look he had given you in the beginning, one of disgust, and yet you don’t move. When you swallow, the blade digs into your skin just a little. “I could do it right now. Slit your throat, let your blood soak into my mattress, watch the life drain out of your eyes. Might even take a photo of it.”

“You could.”

“Most people would be beggin’ for me not to hurt them, you know that?”

“I trust you.” You reiterate and Bo scoffs, sitting up, still straddling you. The knife is moved away from your throat and you suck in a breath. You did trust him. You loved him and he loved you. He wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that. He could threaten you, he could hit you, he could cut you, but he’d never hurt you, never get rid of you. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, you had crawled your way under his skin and latched onto his very being. You wouldn’t leave, even if he did kill you.

Bo stares down at you with a curious look, lips curving into a sadistic grin. “Too bad. I like the beggin’.” 

And then the knife is sliding across your throat and Bo’s smile is the last thing you see as you gurgle, blood pouring from your neck, soaking into the bedsheets, a visceral splatter across him and the wall. 

He makes sure to take a photo of you like this, blood surrounding you like a broken halo, and he places the photo on his side table, pressed against the still smoldering candle stick. There it would sit until he found someone new and then it would be placed into his drawer alongside the dozens of others. You were right; you wouldn’t leave, even if he killed you.

[spaciebabie]

IM WATCHING PHISNOM'S SMASH OR PASS FNAF STREAM AND HES SO BASED FOR SMASHING SPRINGTRAP FUCK YEAH ROTTING MAN WHO OWNS MY HEART AND SOUL DILF OF THE YEAR AWARD SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH

[flowers-in-your-basement]

Also you asked for ideas. I have this stuck in my head: it's heaven. Dean's coming up to the bridge, and Baby stops. The door opens and out comes a 4 year old in pajamas. He's a little confused, looking at himself and around him and he hears something. He pinpoints the noise to a moving bundle on the ground. The bundle is thrashing and crying. Putting his confusion about his form aside, he bounds over to the screaming mass. It's a baby, a very familiar baby. He bends down and picks up the fussing infant, who immediately starts to calm. Both halves of single shared soul finally reunited. "Sammy" the little boy exhales in awe. The baby stares back intensely, hazel eyes still shining with lingering tears, and starts to smile, recognizing who's holding him. The boy can almost hear his name coming from that smiling cherub, his eyes seeming to translate "I know you, Dean". Still confused at the state of themselves, Dean looks around and suddenly realizes they're no longer on the bridge, but in a grassy field, a lake to the side, and by the lake a cabin, Baby parked in front of it. He immediately understands, this is their part of this place, and begins to walk toward the cabin. As he carries his little brother through the threshold of their permanent forever, a feeling passes over them, almost like a roving warmth from a shining light, and suddenly Dean is an adult again, holding the hand of his adult brother. Neither one as old as the should be, look about the age the were when Dean came for Sam at Stanford. Silver ring, and amulet around his neck ta' boot. Sam back to his boyish, lean but solid, self. Not a wrinkle on either of them. Sam finally able to say "Dean" longing and fierce, dimples showing. "Hey, Samm- oof!" Dean getting cut off from the tackling hug his little brother gives him.

Etc. I could keep going on but that's the general idea I have in my head. There's a lot of tears, and little/baby/big brother stuff. Sam has a son but no blurry wife, its a baby he rescued during his final hunt or something. They deal with Sams separation trauma from the like centuries he had to live while Dean took his 5 sec drive in Baby. And whatever yall can think of.

They can change age/appearance at will, they do the whole fantasy fulfillment thing, both have particular weecest age scenarios they want to do. Sam wants to be small again and Dean wants to feel like the big brother again. Of course, it's bottom Sam all the way, even when he's bigger than Dean. Dean likes anal play, being finger-fucked and rimmed especially, which is perfect for Sam since he's an ass dude and has always lusted for his big brothers. The Samuelet definitely comes into play, they finally talk about it, Dean apologizing for throwing it out, they makeout with it, swap it, they'll come on it and suck it off of it, etc. and Sam always falls asleep with in his mouth like when he was a kid. Sam has an oral fixation period, used to suck on Dean's fingers as a kid as well.

So much I can think of but I'll leave it there lol

unfortunately I don't trust myself to write this well, but I can provide a selection of recs?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57133543

Dean and Sam's fourths of July over the years, a good heaven bit in the end, very cute

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51667903/chapters/130612477

Slightly angsty, very complete feeling, genuinely a 10/10

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35207923

Very good, hard to describe, a honeymoon in a sad sort of way.

[taintedpompom]

Of Moths and Honey

Mindfang was queen of her castle. It wasn't true she knew, she was simply stewarding it, and it wasn't a real castle. The Sassacare College of Arts, like many colleges, was a seperate campus from the rest, and of course by teaching the Arts she presided over the entire campus, from the students learning within to the TAs reciting the lessons she engraved into their memories. It was a duty, however it remained a privilege nevertheless. She was allowed free reign of the treasures within, precious treasures to pick apart and reconstruct. She was much more free here, in service, then she was for a long time.

Plus she was actually being helpful, which was a novel sweetness to the gluttonous buffet. A dash of lemon to cut through the gristle.

She was too perfect to skip, but inside she was dancing, at peace in her little hea-

There was nothing here.

There was Nothing here.

Mrs. Mindfang did not get her skills, or her lifespan by being blind or stupid. She could see things others couldn't especially the unformed cattle of the students. And she knew the meanings of what she saw. A wisp of lost love. A thread of melancholy, and whether that thread was painful or if the tug at their heart was a bitterness to underlay something sweeter. She saw many things.

But a nothing was here. A hole in existence that ended all answers. It walked down the halls in velvet lace and loomed over the students too blind to realize the danger they were in. A eight foot abyss passed by a couple and the fools looked up, like cows too dumb to recognize the butcher's cleaver.

"Oh hi Ms Dolorosa." The woman smiled and the nothings head tilted.

The Nothing passed silently, the students frowning as if they had anything less then the fortune of the heavens to be so dismissed. "Huh, guess she isn't chatty." The student looked down. "Wasn't my tie crooked?"

The nothing only got closer, imperfections vanishing around it, flickering lights suddenly shone, laces reknotted. And all her unseen connects vanished, not severed, not broken, vanished as if swallowed by the Nothing, that Moving Maw that wanted far, far more then this world had to offer.

The world was young, a few billion years of life that was predated by eternities of unexistence. And, inevitably, eternities would follow after. Mindfang was a fool, her castle was far from unassailable, it could fit between the teeth of the old monsters who slumbered waiting for those eternities.

Why, why did they ever think they could afford to wake one of them up? What trifle did existence, that broken thing, even have to slate such endless appetitive? What balm soothed such pain.

It looked at her. It had no face but it LOOKED, and for a moment the nothing was beautiful. Wasn't the world hard, hadn't she squandered so much of her life, all to feel pain, heartbreak? Loneliness? Why did she bother? Not with life but with choices. There was a answer. There was a peace, there was the Nothing.

There was the Governess. a beautiful leash to that perfection. Why did she suffer such a naked neck, such a painful weight of mistake and choices? What succor could be more perfect then the one who took the first wolves and made them dogs.

It was the last choice, it was the only choice.

A part of Mindfang screamed at her to look away but before her mind could wrestle with itself a Intention pressed upon her.

She needed to find Vriska, her mind screamed, distracted from its fancys of submission with a newfound purpose that Mindfang knew to be utterly alien to it. She HAD to find Vriska Serket. If she had Vriska, she would be happy, she would be warm. Where was Vriska Serket.

"Art room." Mindfang stammered out, her survival instinct flaring with relief with such a simple request. "Painting her miniatures." The nothing did not move, it did not flare in jealous anger or calm in relief. It, and the inexorable pain of being, simply remained in place, nonexistent eyes staring through Mindfang as her brain wracked with confusion.

She doesn't know, Mindfang realized with a start. She doesn't know anything about my castle, or me. The Governess, that ancient evil, simply wanted directions.

"Third floor, next to the bathroom." Mindfang said, sweat caking her clothes. And the Nothing turned.

Relief filled every inch of Mindfang's meridians, she was going to live, intact even. She could hug someone. Instead, she hugged the floor. The rapidly approaching floor that was suddenly greeting her.

Mindfang woke upon on the floor. Her castle was safe again, and her lap was... warm?

Mindfang looked down, a dress lay on her lap, a gown of brilliant navy blue, glittering like a bright midnight. It was softer then skin and utterly flawless, a masterpiece that could not be afforded even in the modest imaginations of small gods.

And it was hers now. Because she gave directions.

Mindfang clutched the dress and sobbed, she was small. So, so small.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Your Best American Girl, Chapter One:

pairing: 1920’s journalist!marcus pike x singer!ofc (Evelyn Edwards)

rating: M (1920’s shit, alcohol consumption, allusions/brief descriptions of DV/assault, i think that’s all for now)

wc: 2.3k

series masterlist | marcus masterlist

As Marcus arrived at Nonnie’s Books, a tiny, hole in the wall brownstone with the store’s name written in yellow cursive on the window, he wondered how this “store” got away with things for so long. It seemed clear as day to him that no actual business occurred here, and as much was confirmed when he and Betty stepped inside.

Tall, dust covered bookshelves lined the walls of the red brick interior, a few more sitting in the middle of the lamp-lit room. Most of the copies were tattered and worn, as if from a personal and well-loved collection.

“This is where ya takin’ me?” Betty asked in a whisper, though it was hardly needed with the thumping music of the jazz band in the basement.

“Yes,” he replied before slipping his hand into hers. “Trust me?”

“As much as any girl can trust a fella.”

Marcus smiled and nodded. As he walked up to the register, a tiny, old woman greeted him with a studious look. He flashed her that winning smile of his before reaching in his coat pocket for a bill.

“Seems a nice night for a little music, doesn't it?” he asked, his question a code. Nervously, he awaited the woman’s judgement.

“Sure is,” she replied, finally cracking something resembling a smile. “Come along.”

Betty gave Marcus a giddy smile and hugged his arm as she walked with him beyond the till to the door that sat behind it. Inside what seemed from the outside to be a closet, Marcus and Betty found themselves faced with a staircase that led down to the basement, the music now less of a dull thump, the chatter from the club and the scream of the saxophone replacing it.

“Oh, Marcus!” Betty exclaimed, grinning wild as he led her down the staircase and into the red-painted club. “And ta’ think, I thought ya was takin’ me to some bookstore for our first date.”

“Not a date, Betty,” he reminded patting her hand as it rested on his arm. “Just a little bit of research.”

“Ya do enough research,” she said, moving to stand in front of him as he scanned the room for a pair of empty seats. “Live a little.”

Slipping her hand in his, she tugged him onto the dance floor with a wide smile and bright eyes. He chuckled at her as she danced and shook and swayed for him, undeniably attracted to the way she seemed at home in this scene so unfamiliar to him. He wished he could fit in anywhere the way she seemed to fit in here.

“Have you always been this wild and carefree, Betty?” he asked, still as he stood in the middle of the dance floor watching her come alive.

“Since I was born, Mistah Pike,” she replied with a grin. “Maybe ya should try it out for yaself.”

“I’m perfectly content watching,” he said.

He stood there for a while longer, somehow both stiff and relaxed as he remained a voyeur to the scene around him. Drinks flowed freely, conversation seemed plentiful, the music coming from the trumpets sounding like nothing more than a screech to him but to everyone else it sounded more like a call from heaven—or hell.

An emcee of some sort took hold of the microphone as Betty finally leaned in and asked for a drink. Marcus led her over to the bar and allowed her to order for both of them, having not indulged since prohibition went into order. The bartender slid over a two glasses of whiskey, the sight of the amber liquid placed in front of him making his mouth water in a way he hadn’t expected it would.

“To gettin’ ya outta the office for a change,” Betty announced, lifting her glass for a toast. Marcus joined in, clinking the crystal against hers before taking a sip. He winced at the burn of the medicinal liquor as it went down, his head shaking as though his body was cursing him for it.

“Please welcome to the stage, the lovely, the gorgeous, the talented Miss Evelyn Edwards!” Marcus turned to look at the red-drowned stage, the brick wall behind it and large grand piano looking lonely until a doll of a woman stepped out from the side stage with a winning smile, her pale skin and hardly-blue eyes shining in the spotlight.

Marcus recognized her immediately as the woman in the blue coat, running away from nothing. He felt the air puff out of his lungs as she opened her mouth, her own rendition of Helen Kane’s, “I Want To Be Bad”, drawing all of the rambunctious men in the room to the edge of the stage to watch her as she flossed her feathered boa around.

“Look at her,” Betty gasped, her eyes wide with admiration as she watched Marcus’ doll put on a show. “I’d kill to look and sound half as good as that.”

Marcus couldn’t muster a reply, not when he was as drawn into her performance as every other man with a working pair of eyes.

“Welcome, Mr. Howard!” A fellow standing behind Marcus and Betty at the bar called over the music, causing Marcus’s eyes to shift from the beauty on stage to the staircase. He watched as Jack Howard swaggered in with his posse, all of them dressed more expensively and elaborately than everyone else in the club. “Right this way. Saved you a table over in the VIP section.”

“You’re too kind, Georgie,” Jack smiled, winning and bright, as he patted the shorter, rounder, and older man on the shoulder, allowing him to lead them through the packed club to a roped off section in the corner. Marcus downed the rest of his drink as he kept a watchful eye on the group, studying every bit of movement, every parting of their lips in hopes of understanding some of the conversation from where he stood halfway across the room.

When Jack pointed at the stage and leaned back in to Georgie, the older man looked worried for a moment, but that winning smile of Mr. Howard soothed it. With a nod, Georgie found his way to the side stage and waited for Miss Edwards to finish her song and collect her flowers.

“Only one song?” Betty whined from beside him.

“I guess,” he replied, focused on watching Georgie and Miss Edward’s conversation on the side of the stage.

She seemed adamantly opposed to whatever the older man was proposing, though the band drowned her shouting out. Jack, meanwhile, seemed smug as he watched Georgie pull her over against her will, his winning smile seeming more devious than it did when he first witnessed it.

“Oh, she’s with Jack Howard?” Betty asked, leaning in so close her breath fanned over Marcus’s ear. “Makes sense. Too beautiful for any of these other new money wannabes.”

“You wanna go sit?” Marcus asked, pointing at a table that just opened up near the VIP section, hopeful to get a better grasp on the enthusiastic conversation Jack and Miss Edwards were having. Betty nodded and allowed him to guide her over to the table and pull her seat out before seating himself down beside her.

“Jack, don’t you dare touch me!” Miss Edwards shouted, loud enough to draw eyes, but Marcus remained facing away from the scene. “No! No! Georgie, I swear to god—“

“Hey, quiet down,” Jack hissed, the sound finally enough to pull Marcus’s eyes over to the scene. Jack yanked her down onto his lap hard enough to make her yelp, the sound making Marcus fist clench as it rested on his leg beneath the table. “You’re makin’ a scene.”

“You’re making a scene,” she countered, elbowing him in the stomach. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”

“Baby doll, you’re testing me, now,” he warned. Marcus watched as he stood to chase her out of the club but relished in him being held back by his friends.

“I think we should go,” Marcus whispered to Betty, earning a pout. “C’mon. Not leaving you in a place like this.”

“These, Mistah Pike, are my people. Fun people. Unlike yaself,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m gonna stay with my people.”

“No,” he shook his head and sighed. “You’re going to let me hail you a cab so that you can go home.”

“Ya think I don’t go out by myself every night? Nothin’s happened yet.”

“Yet,” he repeated. “Come on, now.”

“No, ya gonna have to pick me up if ya want me to leave.”

“Hey, you can hand her off to us if you want,” one of Jack Howard’s posse chimed in, flashing a smile at Betty.

“See,” she said, standing up and walking into the section. “These are my people, Mistah—“

“Right, right,” Marcus interrupted, shaking his head at her recklessness. He didn’t want to leave her here with this crew, but unless she suddenly gained sense and reason, there was going to be no getting through to her. “I’ll see you at work Monday, then.”

Finding his way out of the club and back into the bookstore, he found Miss Edwards standing in front of a bookshelf, crying.

“Excuse me,” he called, approaching her where she stood in the dim light.

“Listen, I don’t go home with strangers.”

“Hm? No, no. I wasn’t—I just wanted to see if you were alright,” he replied, finally earning her eyes on his. She studied him from head to toe, a chuckle leaving her painted lips.

“You a cop?” she asked.

“No,” he shook his head. “Just a writer.”

“A writer, huh?” She smiled as if there weren’t tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “You look like a stiff.”

“I suppose I am one,” he admitted, cracking a smile. “Explains why I’m leaving the club already.”

“You get to see my set?” she asked, turning her body so that she was facing him now.

“I did,” he nodded. “You’ve got a nice voice.”

“What are you really? You can be honest with me, I’m no snitch.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he replied. “I’m a writer.”

“Mm,” she hummed in skepticism. “Don’t buy it. You know cops?”

“A couple,” he shrugged. “Do you?”

“They know me, I’m sure.” Marcus laughed genuinely and nodded.

“Well, aren’t they lucky,” he said, bringing a more sincere smile to her face than the playful one on it before. “I, uh, I saw what Mr. Howard was doing to you and I just wanted to check in—“

“You crazy?” she asked, furrowing her brow at him before looking around the empty bookstore. “Tryin’ to get us killed?”

“No—“

“Keep talkin’ like that here and you’re gonna.” Marcus was about to speak when Miss Edwards gripped his bicep and walked him out of the store and onto the sidewalk. “What’s your name?”

“Marcus,” he answered while trying to match her quick pace down the road. “Are you in danger—“

“Shh,” she hushed. “Marcus who?”

“Marcus Pike,” he replied.

“You ain’t a cop?”

“No—“

“Would you like to come over for coffee sometime, then, Marcus?” she asked.

“I, uh…are you alright?” he asked, forcing her to stop. “Your lip is healing, but it was busted, wasn’t it?”

“You are a cop. A detective, or somethin’?” Marcus felt like he was going insane, his eyes squeezing shut out of frustration.

“I’m not a cop. I’m just a stiff. Now, will you tell me whether or not you’re in danger?” Miss Edwards eyed him carefully for a moment as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Somethin’ like that. I don’t know,” she sighed and shook her head, looking off into the distance. “It’s nothin’ a writer can get me out of.”

“You’re in on Mr. Howard’s affairs, I assume.”

“No,” she scoffed. “I don’t know shit about what he does. All I know is he can pack a mean punch.”

“He hits you?”

“Don’t all men?” she retorted with a raise of her brow.

“No. Not good men,” he replied, struck by the resignation in her eyes. Had she never known a good man in her life?

“Are you a good man, Mr. Pike?” she asked, her eyes falling to his bowed lips before lifting again to his dark brown, almost black eyes.

“I try hard to be,” he replied.

“Are you busy tomorrow afternoon?”

“No—“

“Good, then you can join me on my trip to Long Island,” she announced as she hailed a taxi. “There’s a cottage I like to rent there for real cheap. Pretend to be one of the rich for a couple nights. Sounds like fun, huh?”

“You want me to join you—“

“Pack a bag, will ya? Gonna be there all weekend.”

As the taxi pulled up, Marcus stood frozen in confusion, wondering how and why this had all happened to him.

“What’s your address, Mr. Pike?” she asked as she opened the door for herself. Marcus gave her his address and she smiled, ordering him to be out front at noon sharp. “I think you and I are gonna be good friends, Marcus.”

“You hardly know me,” he chuckled.

“I know enough,” she smiled. Sitting down inside the car, she gave him a wave through the window. “Have a good night, detective!”

“And you too, Miss Edwards,” he called out as the car took off down the road, his hand waving her off until the taxi became just another bright light faded into the city.

And as if by some sort of magic, a friendship that would change both of their lives forever was born out of nothing. Or nothing, it seemed.

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[asteriaspirit]

The Storms of War

Rain pours from the heavens, the sky weeping as the storm cackles. A flash of lightning splits the air as a berserker’s axe cleaves an empire soldier’s helmet in two. An arrow zips across the town square, piercing the calf of a fleeing soldier, his scream lost to a crack of thunder.

Odhran stumbles into an alley, colliding with a building. He barely feels the stone digging into his shoulder as his pained gaze falls to his thigh—and the arrow jutting from it.

“Fookin’ idiots,” he mutters with a grimace. “Wouldn’t be surprised if’n it was one of our useless archers.”

His fingers curl around the arrow's shaft, arm tensing to pull it free, but the hairs on his neck stand on end. It isn't from the cold rain. Someone is approaching, their steps masked by the chaos of war and the storm overhead. Odhran's grip loosens on the arrow, sliding to the dagger at his belt. He spins, ready to drive the blade into his assailant.

Gloved fingers wrap around his wrist, and gold-green eyes meet his hazel ones. Cassandra grins, her lips parting slightly.

"Odhran," she whispers in her familiar husky monotone. He can smell blood on her breath, her face inches from his. “You smell like death.”

“You too, lass,” he replies, frowning as he pulls back to focus on her face.

She looks... radiant, despite being drenched in rain and covered in blood. Her pale complexion has a faint blush, and though the red on her lips is surely blood, a part of him wonders if it could ever just be paint.

“You’re hurt,” she whispers, her gaze trailing from his throat, across his chest, and down to his thigh. Her hand releases his wrist and hovers over the arrow’s haft. Her brow furrows, head tilting slightly like a curious animal.

She always watched him skin her kills with the same eerie focus—

“Nothin' but a scratch,” Odhran grunts, his attention flicking to the wound, then back to her. The unnatural quickness with which her gaze snaps to meet his makes his jaw clench. "Nothin' ta worry about. Not now when the enemy’s retreatin’. We should be givin’ chase, makin’ sure they ain't rallyin'—"

“You can’t run on that leg.”

“Yer always underestimatin’ me just ’cause yer some creature with no shred o’ humanity left—”

“You’ll do more damage to yourself if I don’t get it out—”

“I don’t need yer help ta pull it—”

“This is the second battle I’ve fought beside you, and still, you don’t trust—”

“No, I don’t, ’cause ye just be waitin’ ta stick yer fangs in my throat—”

“Not your throat, Odhran.”

His teeth snap together as he shuts his mouth, lips pressing into a grim line. He tries to ignore the part of his mind that wonders where she would bite, if not his throat.

It’s just the adrenaline talking. These thoughts will pass.

“Thanks for the offer,” he mutters, “but I’ll decline the vampire lass helpin’ with the bleedin’ wound.”

Cassandra clicks her tongue in mock dismay, though her expression still looks playful—almost amused. The emotion stirs something in Odhran’s stomach, and he can’t tell if it’s unease.

“I’ve eaten well,” Cassandra says, her grin widening, the points of her canines catching in the flash of lightning that illuminates them for but a moment. “I don’t hunger, Odhran.”

“Nah, yer just battle drunk. Fergot yerself entirely, lass.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she says with a smirk. “But I do know you’re right—we should give chase.”

Before Odhran can nod in agreement, Cassandra’s hand darts up, catching a bolt mere inches from his skull. He gasps, both of them turning to see an empire soldier reloading at the end of the alley.

Cassandra chuckles low in her throat, a sound Odhran doesn’t recall ever hearing from her.

“I’ll make a bloody bolt,” she muses, twirling the projectile between her fingers, “and after I kill the boy, I’ll come back for your bloody arrow. Deal?”

“No deal, ye devil woman—”

She sighs, rolling her eyes at the soldier, then flings the bolt with precise aim. It embeds in his wrist, sending the crossbow clattering to the ground as the man falls to his knees, screaming into the storm.

“Odhran,” Cassandra sighs, and Odhran stiffens at the tone. “You’re no fun.”

She vanishes, reappearing behind the soldier, forcing his head aside to sink her fangs into his throat.

[suspiciousjello]

Junkenstein’s most prized possession isn’t a creation…

A/N: Greetings lovelies! I wrote this SEVERAL years ago and for whatever reason just felt like finally "publishing" it. I hope that this will be an interesting read, despite my pathetic grasp on proper grammar and punctuation. It does have more chapters so if it's well received, I can post what I have of this self indulgent story. Also I should mention that this is most definitely my interpretation of Junkrat from highschool (I had a massive crush on him) so please be kind.

Tw: mentioned blood from injury, anxiety, mentioned thunder

Chapter 0: An unusual source of aide…

Angry grey clouds loomed above, blanketing the sky in warning of the imminent. Having been running for what felt like hours, your lungs burned as though they had inhaled layers of nicotine coated smoke. Breath heavy, and chest heaving in an attempt to regain stability, your eyes trail around the surrounding woods,darkness inhibiting most of it. As the first tear drops of rain fell cold against your cheek, a bellowing clap of thunder ripped through the sky. A terrified scream elicited from your chapped lips, in response to the angry cries of the heavens and your eyes search more frantically for cover. With the brief flash of light from above, an old tree revealed its gaping hole calling for you to take refuge inside, away from the storm.

Steps all too eager, the searing pain of large thorns taking purchase in the soft flesh of your right calf pulls another wail from your body and you lug your now seemingly two ton weight, into the safety of the hole in the rugged tree. Pulling your legs in toward your chest, the warm blood of your fresh wound trickling down your icy skin. Tears fell down your cheeks due not only to the new found pain in your leg, but also over the fear of storms you had accrued as a child and sadly the claws of that fear never loosened their grip, even now in your adult years… *Stomp, ka-thunk! Stomp, Ka-thunk!* the sound of presumably footsteps, coupled with clanking metal pried you from your thoughts and you swore you could hear a faint voice in the distance likely belonging to the person trampling around in the dark, steps disrupting the water laden soil. Nothing they said was comprehensible but seeing as you didn’t know the identity of said person, you opted to pretend you weren’t in your hiding spot, in hopes you would remain unfound.

Hurried thoughts becoming blurred as the temperature of your form seemed to spike in spite of the frigid rain still pounding down against the softened soil in rage. Your attempts to see anything in the surrounding area futile as the bleary film of a fever muddied your senses. A blue glow barely registering coupled with the sound of the footsteps from mere moments ago becoming more and more prominent. Praying to God that you wouldn’t die, as you tried to huddle into a tighter form. The remains of your energy, distracted you from the fact that the footsteps had stopped. Vision impaired by your arms serving to cover your face, and pillow your heavy head, meant that the blue glow now impressively bright above you, was unnoticed. Heavy breathing from above you and the screeching of metal protesting against the weight of whatever it supported as said figure bent, squatting down to observe your weakened body. “Hoggy, oi think we gots a live one…poor possum looks worn out” a strangely distorted voice commented in regards to you. The companion of the voice merely grunting, and offered no other response. “ Take our finds, and ‘ead back to tha’ lab. Oim gonna try ta git possum ‘ere to tha ‘ouse, reckon that gash in ‘er leg gonna git infected if oi don’ ” The voice gently ordered, once again receiving another grunt but not seeming to take any mind to the wordlessness of said companion.

Footsteps with exceptional weight, fading away into the rainfall. Metal screeched again as its owner leaned forward, the sound of cloth being removed, lead to a large heap of fabric covering your icy form, and two hands made contact with your body the only barrier between you being what you would later realize, was a cotton lab coat. It probably started out white, but had become more so a cream with age, and consistent use. Your body now snuggly swaddled in the large coat against a warm chest that housed a heart beating at the pace of a skittish hare. The blue glow from tubes of chemicals, strapped on either side of him prominent from both sides, and supplementing more heat to defrost your body. He had covered your head with the collar of the lab coat leaving himself exposed to the elements. Had your mind not been incapacitated, you would’ve fought this person, but something deep down whispered that you were in safe hands, and allowed you to decompress in the arms of your hobbling Samaritan.

The fog in your head kept you from realizing how long he had been walking, but when your mind faded into temporary consciousness, you noticed that your head was being cradled carefully between the neck and shoulder of your new found helper. Gentle vibrations from his throat as he hummed something incomprehensible, the tune lulling you straight back into the darkness of sleep. When you awoke, you were on a bed, your previous clothes removed, replaced by a simple pale lavender hospital gown. Taking in your new surroundings, your eyes flitted around the room in fear of the unknown territory you found yourself in. Sitting up quickly, you feel a wet cloth fall from your forehead, into your lap lamely and the coolness of the air touching your once covered forehead, sending a chill down your spine. The crackle of a warm fire in the stone framed fireplace distracted you from the rain pelting against the window as howling wind suggested the storm would continue for some time to come.

The rest of the room was lackluster in appearance, clearly not having been used for quite some time. Despite that, there was evidence of someone’s rushed attempts to make it habitable. “...Hello?” you croaked, throat parched from the fever which had thankfully broken while you had been asleep. There was no direct answer, but you strained to hear the faint echoes of the voice you vaguely recalled hearing earlier in the evening, when you were first discovered. Daring to move your legs from under the covers, your now active nerves scorn your movement, as a reminder of your wounded leg. Hissing in pain you relent in trying to move your right leg, and use your arms and left leg to awkwardly shuffle in the bed so you faced the door. You pulled the lab coat that had served as a blanket covering you, around your frame before inspecting your wounded leg finding it had been bandaged and some sort of salve had been applied to presumably, prevent infection. The bandaging had been dressed with practiced hands and neatly clasped so as not to disrupt the now tarnished flesh.

Who could’ve possibly done this? And where were your proper clothes? You pondered, thoughts consuming you to the point of noticing all too late, that there was a monstrous figure looming in the doorway. When you noticed said figure, you released a bloodcurdling scream, spooking the lumbering monster into taking a few startled steps backward, breathing in deep huffs almost like…a pig? But pigs don’t stand on two feet, nor are they green! And they certainly don’t stand over 7 feet tall! Where on earth had you been taken to?! In your terror you attempted to run despite having nowhere to hide, limping quickly to a corner of the cold cobble floor and covered you head with your hands and the lab coat, shaking like a leaf in the winter wind. “Didn’ oi say ta knock first ya drongo?” an unseen figure scolded the creature. “Ya scared the poor possum ‘alf ta death!” the voice continued, gradually nearing your cowering form as the familiar creak of metal and haphazard steps became louder. “s’alright luv, no need ta be frightened” the voice cooed from a few feet in front of you, careful not to invade your space, lest he worsen your discomfort. Hot tears streaming down your cheeks stung your eyes, as you assumed your worst fate in this unknown space, but the man in front of you merely eased himself to the floor. The sound of what you proposed to be a metal cane (perhaps?) struck the cold floor as he settled there. Lifting your head ever so slightly from beneath the coat, you stole a peek through guarded hands at the owner of the voice now sitting across from you.

Striking white hair stood wild in every direction against honey skin littered in freckles and a few distinct “beauty marks”, beneath the soot and grease smudged across the face of a man. He sported goggles hanging around his thin neck, and the vials of various chemicals were still strapped to his lithe form. Clad in a pair of stained eggplant purple pants and a simple black shirt, he did his best to be as unassuming in posture as possible, even though anyone would be hard-pressed to find him “unassuming” considering his semi manic expression, yet he still radiated a strange sense of genuine harmlessness in his crooked smile, and the creases around his eyes where his sharp cheekbones raised. A bizarrely childlike giggle erupted from the man as he fidgeted about, curiosity obvious in his saturated golden eyes. “Sorry ‘bout tha’ possum, he’s not very good at manners quite yet. Oim still workin’ ou’ tha kinks in ‘is personality'.

The white haired man giggled, his grin revealing a set of sharp teeth like that of a wild animal. Glancing away from his intense gaze, you looked down only to realize, he had a prosthetic leg and arm which had been the sources of all the metal grinding you had heard before. Noting your continued silence, he decided to try and engage you with a question he sincerely wanted an answer to: “ ’Ow’s yer leg ‘oldin’ up darl’? I did basic first aid, but oi imagen ye still ‘ave a lot ah pain”. His countenance contorting with concern and the unease obvious in the lilt of his voice. He looked at you with worried and expectant eyes, hoping to pull some sort of reply out of you to ease his distress. Mulling over whether or not to grace him with a response only fueled his fidgeting more, his prosthetic laden knee now bouncing in anticipation. Your eyes returned to observing the floor beneath you as you let out a reply, just barely audible. “It still hurts…but not as much…t-thank you for bandaging it…” you whispered, but he heard you nonetheless and he beamed with pride at being able to have some semblance of a conversation started with you. “Was nuthin’ oim jus’ glad yer fever broke an’ yer okay” he replied, as his already large grin seemed to get wider.

He reminded you of a child revealing a piece of prized art they made to their parents, worthy of hanging on the fridge. You were tempted to let out a giggle of your own due to how infectious his was, but bit your tongue. After all, he was still a stranger, even if he did save your life… *CRASH!!!!!* a cacophony of thunder and lightning reminding you of the storm outside, encouraging your huddled form into a tighter ball, much like before and a whimper escaped your lips. “You alright there darl’?” the man’s manic grin replaced once again with his previous expression of worry. “Scary” the monster in the doorway grumbled, spooking you. You hadn’t remembered that he was in his spot he had been in when he had alarmed you earlier. “ Ah~ I didn’ even think a tha’" The man mused slowly, rising to a standing position, though hunched over in a way that seemed more uncomfortable than anything for the average person. Slowly he hobbled up to your curled up form, carefully pulling his lab coat tighter around you much like he had earlier in the night, before speaking again.

“Oim sorry darl’ oi wasn’ thinkin’. Shoulda’ realized you was afraid o’ the storm…oim gonna pick ye up so we can go to tha lab for som’ tea, ye can’ even ‘ear tha storm in there.” He said softly as he eased his arms around you once more. Cognizant of your injury, as well as the possibility of you trying to fight him, he moved slowly due to the fact that he was still technically a stranger. You nodded slightly despite yourself, allowing him to coddle you like a small child. He was gentle but his hold was so secure, that you didn’t worry about him dropping you as he rose back up hobbling out of your room, his monster in tow. As he walked down the hall toward the aforementioned lab, the sounds of the storm faded like a distant memory, just as he had promised mere moments ago.

[omentranslates]

Owari no Seraph chapter 131 english fan translation

Howdy tumbly vampire fans, please enjoy this text only fan translation of the new chapter. The official has already been out for a little over 12 hrs at here so this is just for fun pls make sure to read that one if you haven't ;)

Color page text: Determination set in eyes gazing straight towards the future

Owari no Seraph chapter 131: All Are Forgiven

Yuu: So heaven is up there, I guess that makes this Hell.

Mika: Ah, Yuuchan there's one there!!

Bear: *roaring*

Yuu: Sorry about this, I'm gonna eat you.

Mika: What number was that?

Yuu: Third one. Oh, sweet.

Mika: We've gotta get enough food stockpiled up, since Yuuchan's gas mileage sucks.

Yuu: You're the one eating all the power, we'll preserve this stuff so I'll have it while we're on the move.

Mika: Mmk, I'll start the fire. Yuuchan, you do the gutting and stuff.

Yuu: K.

Yuu: Gonna take this off so no blood gets on it, be a pain in the ass to wash off.

Yuu: Man, I really want curry or something.

Mika: We had curry the last day I was human, didn't you eat my share?

Yuu: WHAT, NO I DIDN'T I SAVED YOU SOME.

Mika: The last curry the kids had, did they enjoy it?

Yuu: They said they wished you were there too.

Mika: No shit? Guess the play's less fun when it's missing its lead.

Mika: Got me thinking how I wanna eat curry together with everyone when we bring them all back to life.

Yuu: You can eat curry???

Mika: Well since the Great Mikaela will doubtless be human again.

Yuu: Someone's looking ahead all of a sudden.

Mika: I mean that's what we decided, I can't help it. Would you rather I stop?

Yuu: Go ahead. Actually no, help me dress this meat.

Mika: Can't, too busy scheming.

Yuu: *screaming*

Mika: So to summarize, what we have to do is gather the sin keys and resurrect Mikaela. And...the people who've been gathering them all ready are Ferid and Guren. Whatever their thought process is.

Yuu: Pretty sure Guren's goal is to resurrect humanity. With no Mikaela.

Mika: Any ideas about Ferid?

Yuu: I don't think anyone has any idea about Ferid. Probably whatever the worst possible thing in the world is.

Mika: Oh, ok but if the past we saw is factual, then you ARE Mikaela.

Yuu: Oh?

Mika: Meaning, for Guren to get what he wants, everyone except you will be resurrected.

Yuu: Uhhh, this got complicated. Really?

Mika: Well isn't it? Mikaela's resurrection will require those sin keys, but so would humanity's.

Yuu: Yeah.

Mika: But the angel Mikaela was actually Yuuchan.

Yuu: Seems that way

Mika: So then, yeah.

Mika: And that turns our whole situation around, doesn't it? I actually don't care if anyone else gets resurrected, so this is great for my goal being to just protect you no matter what. Realized that somewhere along the way.

Yuu: Oh, so that's where the sudden burst of motivation came from. Like how you used to be.

Mika: Ta-da!!! All the Fool Yuuchan must do to succeed is come along with the Great Mikaela!

Mika: I will definitely save you!

Yuu: You sure are excited about that.

Mika: I can't have you dying on me now, Yuuchan. Not after we've come all this way.

Yuu: I mean sure.

Mika: Huh, I thought for sure you were gonna say something like 'well then I'll become the sacrifice and it'll turn out fine.' Yuu: Well it's not like we really know which is which. Seems like I was a lot smarter in the past.

Mika: True, true. None of that carried over, for you anyways.

Yuu: You mean to say that I'm even smarter now, right?

Mika: Why yes of course.

Yuu: We still can't choose a course of action 'til we know, though. If we don't resurrect the angel Mikaela, one of us could die and then we're in trouble.

Mika: Ok but is the angel Mikaela a separate person? And to resurrect THEM we need those 7 keys? We'd be seriously stuck if resurrecting them caused you to disappear.

Yuu: I dunno actually I'd be fine with that

Mika: I wouldn't.

Yuu: Well, I wouldn't be fine if it was you either.

Mika: Yeah.

Yuu: So, so far we have that the First's goal is to resurrect the angel Mikaela and then use their life to resurrect all the angels, right?

Mika: Most likely yeah

Yuu: And Guren's goal is to use those keys to resurrect all of humanity?

Mika: Right

Yuu: So then my....or the angel Mikaela's goal was to..?

Mika: They kept saying they wanted to save the First.

Yuu: Yeah

Mika: And there's no way to do that without first resurrecting all of the angels, right?

Yuu: Ok

Mika: But we have to remember that every time there's a resurrection, divine punishment is dispensed. Who's going to be the next sacrifice?

Yuu: Alright, then my goal will be to do this without bringing punishment down on anyone.

Mika: I hope I'm right in presuming that no one receiving heavenly punishment will include you?

Mika: For you to perform the resurrection as the angel Mikaela and accept punishment in place of the First, in order to resurrect the angels and the humans, and that be it....you understand why we can't do that, right?

Yuu: Aren't you supposed to be thinking of a way I don't have to?

Mika: Yeah, I am. But if the decision comes down like that anyways, promise me you won't sacrifice yourself.

Yuu: ...

Mika: I'm not lifting another finger to help until you promise me that you won't give up on yourself, even til the very end.

Yuu: If you wanna be like that, if we find out along the way that the angel Mikaela really was you, will you promise the same thing? That you won't sacrifice yourself?

Mika: Yeah, alright.

Mika: Y'know this whole story, as long as we keep just sacrificing ourselves over and over, it won't end. The despair and obsession will just repeat themselves.

Mika: But...I've already died once. If we're fixing everything on this meaningless life anyways

Mika: This lifetime, we're going to move forward sacrificing no one and winning it all. That's the promise I want to make, Yuuchan.

Yuu: It's really like....you're seriously starting to remind me of the way you used to be again.

Mika: Whatever, just promise me Yuuchan. That you won't give up on yourself.

Yuu: So do you have a plan, then? Our enemies are real smart. Guren, Mahiru, the First, Saitou and Ferid.

Mika: No way, we've got someone way smarter on our side.

Yuu: Oh wow you mean me?

Mika: But actually, we're the ones in first place right now. Since everyone else still thinks the angel Mikaela is me. If we can keep them from finding out about that...I've got a plan that'll knock every one of them off their feet, I've thought of the meanest scheme in the entire world.

Yuu: Whoaa!!! I expect nothing less from the most infamously mean-...

Mika: DON'T YOU EVEN

Yuu: Then let's get to it!!

Mika: Right!

Yuu: ...so what are we getting to again?

Official Lodging of the Japanese Imperial Demon Army

Saitou: Well hey there, what an unusual caller. What have you come for?

They've finally made a move towards accomplishing their goal.....!!

[msweebyness]

MirrorVerse Special- Halloween Town Trolls (Happy 30th Anniversary Nightmare Before Christmas!)

Hellllo, my fine, fright-loving folks! Exciting news! This year marks the 30th anniversary of one of the greatest holiday films ever, so Sparky and I decided to celebrate by doing a special involving our characters from the Disney AU's who come from said film! Keep an eye out for two more surprises from me (one largely from Artzy, lol.) Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

(Set During Senior Year)

(Holding a portal open, BluRore gazes sternly at the two Halloween Town natives standing in front of her, both bearing maniacal grins.)

BluRore: Now remember, you two. Don’t cause too much trouble. Heavens know these people have enough to deal with already, with him being about…

(Eri places a bony hand over her heart)

Eri Skellington: Not to fear, dear fairy! We have but one target in this endeavor. He alone will suffer the dregs of our mischief!

SalAnthony: Translation: We’re only gonna punk the Boogie, we won’t bother anyone else.

BluRore: (Nods with a sigh) Good. Now, with that out of the way…(smiles wickedly) Give that jackass hell!

(The two nod with devious smiles of their own, before stepping through the portal)

*SCENE CUT: Ivan Oogie’s Lair*

(The villainous Ivan Oogie cackles menacingly as he watches his bugs and critters wreak havoc in Halloween Town, ruining the preparations the townsfolk had worked so hard on.)

Ivan Oogie: (Laughs with pure malice) Lookit ‘em, runnin’ around like chickens with no heads! What a bunch’a suckers!

(Suddenly, he hears an odd tapping noise from outside his lair.)

Ivan Oogie: (Eyes narrow) What the…

(He steps outside to investigate…only to be whacked in the schnoz by a severed blue hand.)

Ivan Oogie: What in the Sam Hill?! Who-

(He’s cut off when the hand rounds back and slaps him across the face, before scuttling into the shadows around his lair. Two voices laugh from somewhere unseen.)

Ivan Oogie: A’RIGHT, WHO’S THA WISEASS, HUH?! SHOW YOURSELVES, ‘FORE I LOSE MY PATIENCE! WHO’S THERE?!

Eri Skellington: (From the darkness, in a voice with an exaggerated southern accent) It’s yer mama, Boogie Boy! Hauntin’ you for killin’ me, which ya did because yer a bitchass motherfucker!

SalAnthony: (Snickers, also hidden in the shadows) A little pissbaby, who’s scared of widdle bunny wabbits!

Ivan Oogie: (Trembling with fury) GET OUT ‘ERE AN’ FACE ME, YA ROTTEN LIL FREAKS! I’M THA KING’A THIS TOWN!

(The two just laugh at him again, angering him even further as he tries to see through the thick shadows.)

SalAnthony: Yo, jackass!

(Eri’s parasol whacks Ivan over the head, momentarily stunning him, but she disappears back into the darkness before he can spot her. This enrages him, of course.)

Ivan Oogie: I'M GONNA RIP YA TO BITS! DON'T Y'ALL KNOW NOT TO GAMBLE YER LIVES ON MESSIN WITH THE BOOGEYMAN?!

(SalAnthony’s hand slaps him upside the head.)

SalAnthony: Ooooh, we made him angy, Eri! I'm sooo scared! (Snickers)

Eri Skellington: Now, now, my dear doll, I believe it’s time we made our entrance, don’t you agree?

(The two suddenly appear behind Ivan Oogie, giving earsplitting shrieks as they make their most terrifying faces. He jumps, and it takes every ounce of willpower the young boogey has not to scream in terror.)

Ivan Oogie: So ya f-finally get the guts ta sh-show yer faces! Th-that the b-best ya got?

(The two give each other sly grins)

Eri Skellington: Of course not! A little friend of ours wants to say hello as well. (She pulls out a fluffy grey rabbit with green eyes.)

(The boogeyman lets out a high squeal.)

SalAnthony: He's Jesse's stress bunny. His name is Antonio. Isn’t he just the cutest thing in the world, Oogie? (Cackles)

Ivan Oogie: (Falls back on the ground and scrambles away) GET THAT BEADY-EYED LIL BUGGER AWAY FROM ME!

Eri Skellington: (Cackles with glee) What's this? What's this? He's screaming like a loon! He's pissed, what bliss! And he'll start crying soon!

SalAnthony: Damn, will he ever, hold it together? No, I think not, never to become. This fool is simply too much fun!

Ivan Oogie: (Scowls) Just wait till my Pun’Kin finds out ‘bout this! Y'all’re gonna be sorry when we slice ya up and eat ya for dinner!

SalAnthony: (Scoffs) Sorry, boyo, but your calamari cocktease doesn't scare us, and neither do you!

(Ivan is about to shout at him not to speak that way about his scallop, but Eri cuts him off.)

Eri Skellington: Well, it’s at least something of a comfort that you at least won’t kill your Tonsil Hockey partner to boost your fragile ego! (Examines her nails)

(Ivan Oogie splutters, only for SalAnthony to set the stage for the next blow)

SalAnthony: Well, Bones, he’s also got a soft spot for his baby sistew, doesn’t he? (Smirks devilishly)

Eri Skellington: (Giggles) That’s true! So much so that he’s a regular honored guest at her tea parties! (She pulls out her phone, where she had somehow procured an image of him sitting at Sasha’s small tea table with her, wearing a glittery princess tiara and a pink feather boa)

Ivan Oogie: (Eyes shoot open wide as he stammers, his face a mask of shock and mortification) WH-WHERE DID YA GET THAT?!

Eri Skellington: I have my ways, it’s neither here nor there! (Giggles) But rest assured, no one but me and dear Anthony have see-(Makes a show of ‘accidentally’ tapping something on the screen) (Gasps, covering her mouth with her hand) Oh, dear me! It seems I just sent it to the entire student body of the DuPont Reform Academy. Dreadfully sorry! (She and Anthony cackle)

(Ivan Oogie screams in rage)

Ivan Oogie: YOU BONE-BRAINED BITCH!

(He grabs her by the throat…only for his scream to change to one of pain when she effortlessly bent his wrist the wrong way, her expression calm as she drew her parasol out)

Eri Skellington: (Icy Tone) Did no one ever teach you not to touch a lady without permission, imbecile?

SalAnthony: Never mind him, love. The gist of it is that if he’s hot for them, or they came from the same womb he did, they’re safe. Otherwise, he’s a pathetic little sociopath who gives a bad name to real boogies!

Ivan Oogie: (Puffs out his chest) The rest’a my kind ain’t nothin' but cowards who waste their time bein' goody-goody losers! I'm better than all of 'em combined!

Eri Skellington: (Rolls her eyes) Oh, yes, you're SUCH a macho man! Constantly needing to pick fights with that buffoon friend of yours to prove yourself superior.

SalAnthony: (Scoffs) The only thing he has over that moron is that he doesn't beat women.

(Ivan Oogie snarls)

Eri Skellington: (Giggles mockingly) I would almost argue intelligence too, but it's too small of a margin to really be sure.

Ivan Oogie: (Crosses his arms) Y’know, it ain't very HERO-like of y'all to come here jus’ to rough me up an’ call me names.

SalAnthony: (Rolls his eyes and groans) Why do you villains always say that? We are allowed to be petty, you know. Especially to cannibalistic homicidal edgelords.

Eri Skellington: Too true. Pity that your massive egos and minuscule brains can't handle even the most valid criticisms.

Ivan Oogie: W-Well…Y-You…Y’ALL SUCK!

SalAnthony: Oooh, nice one. Come on, Eri, let's go back to a Halloween Town that ISN’T plagued by a burlap sack-looking hick with a ‘Macho Man’ complex!

Eri Skellington: Indeed. I tire of this fool. And you know how much they panic when I disappear close to Halloween time. (Rolls her eyes fondly)

SalAnthony: Mayor's gonna have another conniption, isn't he?

(The two laugh before disappearing through the portal back to their own universe)

Ivan Oogie: Yeah, that's right! Run away! (He begins attempting to console himself) They were too scared to keep pullin' shit. Runnin' away like a couple’a pussies. I'm the best, and ev’rbody knows it.

(He feels a tap on his shoulder)

???: Hey, Dickface!

(He turns with a scowl to see who insulted him…only to drop to his knees with a squeak of pain as he’s kneed right in the groin, by none other than the daughter of his Canon Disney counterpart!)

Darcy Boogie: (Flips Ivan Oogie off, before turning to face us, the audience) Bet ya’ll weren’t expecting that. JJ!

(Her boyfriend gracefully kicks Ivan Oogie right in the head, knocking him out cold, before turning in the direction of the fourth wall.)

JJ Skellington: (Gives a dramatic bow, tipping his signature fedora) Happy anniversary, everyone!

AND SCENE!

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