#its angsty as hell

[sundrownsthehouse]

I know I've been absent here for a bit, but we move.

I'm over 2k into this next chapter and I haven't even gotten to the meat of it yet, which is really exciting for me. I had some MAJOR writer's block for a few weeks where I felt like all I did was wrestle with it, and I was struggling with a lot of self doubt, but I'm now starting to hit my stride again. Thanks for being so patient and so kind. I'm eager to share the next part with you all as soon as it's ready!

[rando-lesbo210]

hiiii unreliable writer back at it again- So sorry I'm inconsistent but I've been out of it and sick, got brainrot of this old au again I've had brewing on my brains backburner for years. It's angsty, and the tags rn suck ngl but I'm on my phone so I can't do it much for it right now but hopefully I'll remember to edit it later when I can

This is apart of the summary but I'm proud of how it came out and basically the easiest description for this au without spoiling, I don't trust my phone Tumblr making links so here's the story and this is part of the summary and in the fic itself:

"Calling it ‘The Vault’ never feels right, nor puts to perspective just what it means. It's not one, but all Vaults across the universe. It is an entity within and outside our own galaxy. It's beyond the Destroyer, but yet the Destroyer was an extension of it. Every Vault and its monsters were extensions of itself. The loot was its lure. The monsters were people once, driven insane and morphed from the eridium and influence of the ethereal being. The more powerful and dangerous ones were sirens. Once. Now, they're mindless husks puppeted. And those four.. I led them to the lion's den. The Vault holds them in its jaws, eating away at them."

[creative-clawmarks]

Love for the dead is called grief.

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KO-FI

[enden-agolor]

am i even a real lukas fan without drawing his trailer design? so there’s that. also have some very sweet and gentle baja blast boys 🤗

[barb-l]

Just finished reading the Chaggie fic "Igual". I laughed, I cried. It was real damn guuuud

[d3cayingdolly]

right person wrong place wrong time wrong mindset wrong circumstances wrong-

my fav trope

[just-a-girl-with-a-pistol]

am i late with this, yes, why, couldnt tell you honestly

[shellem15]

Love how it seems to be a constant for asmodeus that he's always racing towards his goals and tripping right before he reaches them.

He's always first, but he gets too absorbed in the heat of victory to watch his next steps. And that pride is his fall, always.

And Pelor and Sarenrae are always a few steps behind, chasing after him.

[rexscanonwife]

Concept sketch of my new JJBA self insert and her stand, BellaDonna (who will eventually be known as Madonna). Inspired by the song 'Like a Prayer' by...well, Madonna! @sapphire-heart-tippy

(lore dump under the cut, TW for mentions of animal injury and religious trauma)

My self insert (who will also go by Jane) grew up in a deeply religious family and tried to be a good jehovah's witness child that made her parents proud.

One day, she comes up with the power to heal various injuries and ailments, almost to the point of being able to revive the dead. She figures she's given this power by the lord himself and vows to do good with it, but when she's found using them to heal a bird that had been wounded by a cat, her mother falls into hysterics thinking that she MUST be possessed by the devil to have such abilities.

She's punished and shunned by her community while her mother prays for a cure and though she tries to repent her power doesn't seem to go away, so eventually her mother snaps and drags her into the wilderness and attempts to throw her to the bottom of an old well.

Her Stand, which had previously not manifested physically, appears then to cushion her fall and eventually she manages to pull herself out of the well with her Stand's help, who she now believes to be a guardian angel. But not wanting to return home, she runs away to face the world alone, growing jaded and bitter over time. She loses all of her faith, and the power to heal inverts itself, becoming a sort of poison. Something that LEECHES life, rather than heal it.

When she's an adult (my age irl so 25 I guess) she's made her way by becomes a bounty hunter/assassin using her Stand and eventually catches the attention of Dio. Who takes her in and explains to her what her Stand REALLY is, promising to teach her how to properly wield those powers if she agrees to serve him. She reluctantly takes his offer, but starts to see him as a familial figure, since no one else had ever tried to nurture or even accept her gift. Dio is the one who giver her Stand the name BellaDonna, after the deadly plant!

[monsieuroverlord]

Obligatory tiny Akihiro cameo T-T

From Wolverine #42

Also, slight spoiler:

The Krakoan translates to "The Good Old Days"

So probably just implying a retelling of their long, sordid shared history.

[cruelnemothesis]

[luwritesomething]

mickey altieri x reader where she starts getting suspicious of him but ignores it cause he’s her boyfriend (and she’s in denial) until one day she accidentally catches him still in costume without him knowing. Reader then starts avoiding him and is super upset and doesn’t know what to do until one day he shows up and asks her why she’s been avoiding him. She tells Mickey that she saw him in the Ghostface costume and knows that he is the killer and he tries to explain himself and tries to calm her down. She’s very upset about it and is scared that he might hurt her but he reassures her that he won’t. She loves him so she eventually decides to stay with him anyway and promises that she won’t leave him or tell anyone abt him being the killer… I hope this made sense lol I feel like I put a lot I’m just in desperate need of mickey fics ��

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Please.

Warnings: swearing, manipulation (mickey manipulates the reader to stay by his side), lack of morals from reader's side, mentions of blood and murder.

Word count: 2160

Author's note: i'm living for these requests! with this little piece, i was able to answer two of them, that's why i added the other one. i love mickey, but i actually struggled with writing this one because my moral alarm was going off everytime i tried to think of a reason for reader to stay with mickey after finding out... that's why i went down the manipulation path! hope you like it, and remember, no matter how 'unoriginal' or 'boring' you think your reqs may be, i love getting them and will most probably write them <3

also in here mickey is a little dumb dumb because he goes into his dorm with the ghostface costume on, something that i don't think mickey would actually do... but anyways! no more spoilers :)

graphic by me! also, i'm leaving my mickey altieri playlist, if anyone wants to take a look at it, feel free!

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad martin-meeks, mindy martin-meeks, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The pounding of your heart was the only thing you could feel as you shut your eyes close and try not to make a damn sound. You knew you hadn’t been meant to witness what you had since the moment your mind had been able to connect the dots together, just some minutes ago, and now you were just trying not to discover yourself.

The sounds of someone moving around Mickey’s room had woken you up from your heavy sleep, the coldness from your boyfriend not being by your side anymore easing you up to reality. You had barely opened your eyes, a quick flutter that registered the small lamp in Mickey’s desk shedding its light in the figure next to it. Your heart had stopped at the sight of the figure who, even though had its back turned to you, you could recognize everywhere after last week’s news.

Someone was on a murder spree on campus, dressed with the same costume the figure there was wearing, so it was natural for your first thought to be that you were the next victim. You even saw the knife in the figure’s hand, blade stained with blood that meant you weren’t about to be the only dead of the night. But, before you could even think about moving to try and save your life, the figure had taken the ghostly mask off and you had recognized Mickey, your dear and loved and lovely boyfriend Mickey, in less than a second. That was when you had stopped breathing, your eyes closing as you tried to wash the sight of the bloody knife off your mind, and your heart trying to escape from your chest.

You waited in silence, trying to control the thoughts that raced through your mind, and not making a single move that could expose you to Mickey. Luckily enough, he got out of the room with a towel on his shoulder, to go and use the communitary shower, and that allowed you to breathe deep before trying to control the panic trying to take over your body.

Was Mickey really the killer? When you opened your eyes again, the costume was nowhere to be seen but it was not like you had the imagination to make that up. And if you were true to yourself, Mickey had been shady as fuck. Oh, God, were you really suspecting your own boyfriend of being a killer? The evidence had been right there, in front of your eyes — that wasn’t suspecting anymore.

When some steps could be heard outside the door, you forced yourself to close your eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the sick feeling messing with your stomach. You kept yourself grounded, hidden between the pillow and the sheets, and your body stilled terribly when Micky got himself on bed, like nothing had happened. He smelled sweet, the scent of his shampoo surrounding you.

Quietly, you held your breath as his arms surrounded you, lovingly, and you waited for something — anything — to happen.

You waited for the whole night, but nothing other than Mickey swiftly falling asleep did.

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The days passed by, and your mind couldn’t help but bring back the image of Mickey on the costume with the bloody knife whenever you were around him. And that was terrible, because you spent an incredible amount of time with Mickey, which quickly brought you to avoid him.

At first it was rather small and subtle — made up group projects, very real homework, studying. Then, the need to be on your own, which triggered his suspicions of something else going on. You were inevitably jumpy around him during those times you ran out of excuses, laughing less than usual and sometimes even zoning out on him. The thought of you losing your feelings for him was nearly driving him insane.

Mickey couldn’t stop thinking about you during his film history course, and not in a good way. From college, his murder spree and now you acting up, he had received a ridiculous amount of stress — enough to make him space out in every single class of his. In the middle of the lesson he had already made up his mind about having to talk things out with you and figure out what he had said or done to upset you that much.

When the class ended he was the first one to get out, without even saying goodbye to Randy, and heading towards the classroom he knew you’d be in. You both had learned each other’s schedules after spending so much time together, and that hour was perfect, since his class ended a little bit before yours and both were the last classes of the day.

Oblivious to his presence outside the classroom, you calmly gathered your things once the class came to an end, agreeing a date and hour with the partner you had been assigned to for your next project. Attending your classes and focusing on your schoolwork kept your mind off things — things being Mickey — but as soon as you crossed the classroom doors and saw him there, it all came back.

Mickey smiled at you, even if you didn’t smile back, and walked towards you with that easy going manner of doing things he had. You waited for him with your fingers drumming against your side, which he caught on — weren’t you happy to see him? Even if he had verbalized that question, he wouldn’t have gotten an answer.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.” You said, forcing a smile that, surprisingly, hadn’t felt so forced. Maybe you had been slipping lately, but your objective was not to be killed, and you didn’t know how far he was planning on going. “I have to go to the library, do you want to hang after—?”

“I just wanna talk to you for a minute.” Mickey interrupted you, grabbing the hand you had use to lightly gesture around.

Your heart started pounding so loudly you were afraid he able to hear it. He wasn't, but you didn’t notice his fingers pressing on the pulse point on your grip, checking that, indeed, you were pretty nervous. “It can’t wait?”

“It’ll be just a min.” Mickey promised, insisting oh so charmingly. He squeezed your hand once. “Please?”

How were you supposed to say no to him when he asked so nicely, with his head cocked and his eyes shining? You nodded softly and sighed under your breath, letting him take you wherever he wanted as you tried not to think too much about it.

He led you outside and to the side of the building, a not so hidden place that equally allowed you to be seen by the students walking through campus but not be heard unless you raised your voices. You found yourself terribly afraid of noticing all these things, but Mickey letting your hand go and placing himself across from you got your attention too fast.

“What’s gotten into you?” He finally asked, head cocked.

It took you a second to catch it. “What?”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” Mickey pursed his lips slightly, then shook his head. He truly looked worried. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

“I’m not avoiding—”

“Oh, please.” Mickey waved his hand to make you stop, diminishing your ridiculous attempt to fool him. “Don’t lie to me like that. Just… tell me what I did wrong so I can undo it and—”

You started shaking your head, nervous. “It’s not— It’s not like that.”

The look in Mickey’s eyes was so helpless that you felt how your heart started to crumble. “Please?”

You looked away from him, feeling the fast way your heart was pumping blood. If you had been seated, you would have started to bounce your leg up and down — Mickey couldn’t be more confused at your nervous-wreck state.

“Are you the murderer?” You asked in a whisper, almost not daring to look up to see his reaction.

But his face didn’t tell you anything. Mickey was completely emotionless as he stared back into your eyes, his brain processing very slowly those four words that had just left your mouth. How could you know? He was sure he had been really careful, trying not to let his mood after a kill or planning affect any scenario between you. Mickey knew you were smart, but how?

That was not the right direction to go, though, he realized as you waited for him to give you an answer. You had been acting all weird around him because of being scared of him, and that feeling didn’t make him feel entirely good. 

“Listen…” He started, coming a step closer to you, but you instantly backed away.

“Don’t.” You hissed rather abruptly, still not believing he hadn’t denied it completely and put an end to your delusion. You were right. “If you get closer I’ll scream.”

“Sweetheart!” Mickey exclaimed, surprised, his eyebrows shooting up as the pet name he reserved for your softest moments slipping past his lips in what was an improvised plan of manipulation. The seriousness in his voice and face was the only thing you could pay attention to, though. “I wouldn’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

You hesitated and he almost hissed right then. Falling for you hadn’t been on his plan, but now that same plan was being threatened just because you had found — and he couldn’t have that happen. Mickey wouldn’t kill you, no, but his partner easily could if you did something stupid, and he also did not want you to go to the police saying things about him and the murders. He needed to think of a solution, and fast.

“Then why would you hurt others?” You said hastily, then your head looking around you to really make sure no one was listening. “You’ve killed people, Mickey. I knew some of them—”

“You have to trust me.” He interrupted you instantly. There was only one way out, as he saw it: manipulation. Mickey needed you by his side. His acting skills were enough for you to stop looking so nervous, watching closely how his eyes fell to the floor in fake defeat — but you didn’t know he was acting. You didn’t even know he was a star. “I can’t tell you but you have to trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

His hand reached out to grab yours, but you dodged it, rather defensive. “And why would I trust you?”

“Because I’m not a liar.” Mickey frowned slightly. If you didn’t let him convince you of staying by his side, he would have to… The way he called out your name was rather heartbreaking, this time managing to catch your hand and pressing it against his chest. “Please. I wouldn’t hurt you, and you know that.”

He was making you doubt, he realized, as your eyes fell to your hand on his chest. Mickey seemed desperate from your eyes — begging you to stay. But it wasn’t right… “It just… this changes so many things.”

Mickey shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I still love you, and I always will.” His promise sounded genuine, and it was. There was no denying that, Mickey truly loved you. If he didn’t, you would already be another number on his back, after those little four words you said to him. 

But there he was, playing tricks on your mind without you noticing. “I’d trade my life for yours.”

“Mickey…”

“I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He insisted, more strongly now. His eyes continuously searched for yours, knowing you wouldn’t be able to deny him if you were looking right into his eyes. “Please, please, you have to trust me. Don’t you love me anymore?”

The question shocked you, and if you had been in your right mind, you would have realized the length of the manipulation. But in that moment it only made you gasp, surprised that he would actually question it with such a real expression. 

You were quick. “Of course I do!”

“Then…” A sigh interrupted Mickey, who looked down, letting your hand go. He didn’t need that much dramatism, but now that he had actually gotten used to the part, why stop? “Please.”

There wasn’t much thinking from your side. Mickey had asked you to please trust him, and that was what you were going to do. He had also promised not to hurt you, and you knew him too well — or so you thought. There needed to be more behind all this, and you had to be by his side. 

“I trust you.” You muttered after some seconds, and he looked up instantly. A soft smile blossomed in his lips as you nodded. “I won’t tell, I promise.”

Mickey leaned closer to you, with the swiftest movement, a hand cupping your cheek. “I love you.” He whispered softly.

“I love you too.” You replied against his lips.

[omgeto]

Incoming... long lost love ex!geto who comes to see you for one last time—on the night that he's going to die.

[antiphrastic]

I made something important

[gemharvest]

Getting obsessed with RGBFverse has lead to the very funny consequence of . my brain not knowing if it wants to fall asleep thinking of that or wyd!RGB so I end up having to ping-pong between both until my brain latches onto a scenario. Brain be like "ok do we want tha hell on Beef technique or PicoGF snuggles fo tonight 😈" and I just have to sit back and watch.

[hypocriticaltalkingseal]

It's wild watching Orpheus (KAOS) be the way that he is while having Talk Hozier playing full volume in my head because my brain cannot not play it whenever Orpheus and/or Riddy are on screen