#mistys sinners

[mistys-sinners]

“The greatest trick the devil pulled was convincing the world there was only one of him.”

-David Wong, “John Dies at the End”

💀🩷💀🩷💀🩷💀🩷💀🩷💀🩷💀🩷💀🩷💀🩷💀

[wispiehr]

⤷ : in which you make viktor (feel) whole. and hope. and human.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ nsfw. smut, angst-ish?, both reader and viktor use the other for fulfilment, and fear alienation basically. so terribly self indulgent, zaunite!reader, fem!reader, wc. 1.3k

VIKTOR always seeks you when he wants to feel:

Alive, human — immense pleasures in bursts and bursts, from each crevice of what is left of his wretched, mongrel body.

You ask him why you suffice — what makes you better than the diseased who throw themselves within his line of sight as frequently as they breathe; or the Zaunites that litter the streets and sell their body for a night of warmth.

He reluctantly admits that it is because you are different, refreshing. Because when he looks into your eyes, they are unlike the many husks’ that populate Zaun, with hollow pits for pupils and misty irises, who are so bereft of life and cling, even still.

“What is it that you see in my eyes then, Viktor?” You peer up at him through the veil of your lashes, a withered hand resting on his firm chest as your lips curve upwards. “What sets me apart from the others? What makes me special to you? Tell me, so I may not lose it when you find someone else with more of it to give. More of the satisfaction you crave...”

Oh, but he’s certain no one else has it, you foolish girl. No Zauntie, at least. And it would be a sin, to him — the sinner — to bed a Piltovan. One who had no soul to spare.

His tongue peeks, just past his chapped lips (that old habit), and then he forces his teeth over it, scrapes the offending flesh with his canines.

This body, he doesn’t get used to. Doesn’t try, anyhow. There’s only so much comfort he can attain before it all vanishes again.

It all leaves, when you do.

“I see hope.”

And it is raw and pure and foolish innocent — a mould of his own before it waned, crumbled. Seeped through the clefts of his fingertips in onyx wisps. Marring, marring.

And then, he’s reaching for you. Pushing, tugging — flesh against hextech, man against god.

And it is all like the first time again: new. Familiar. Beneath these hands, you do not crumble, yet still, he cannot resist the urge to wrap his arms about your waist as he slowly lowers you onto your bed, as if afraid you will dissolve into the dust and muck and ash that follow him.

His mouth finds your skin — warm — and his breath spills over, like fire, with fervour as he begs:

“Stay with me tonight. Please, please.”

What a mess of a man. You made him this. Or maybe he was always like this — in disarray. 

And then you give him that look. That hopeful one, and his head is reeling, and his mouth is wandering, and his body is failing. Even more so. 

Hope, hope. He needs it. You.

So, he drinks you in. Drinks it in. From the crook of your neck to the dip of your collarbone, as you moan and grind against him, he steals your hope. Your fickle, human, foolish hope. 

“V-Viktor—” His name, torn and hoarse, falls from your kiss-bruised, pliant, supple lips — and oh, it sends a ripple down his spine. Or what is left of it.

You make quick work of his garments, exposing his mangled, augmented form to the low, ruddy glow of the undercity, and you reach up to trace every ridge with the pad of a frail finger. Or what is left of it.

Viktor will, of course, indulge you — your little study of him. Let you drag his cloak off his shoulders and admire your work, so thoroughly exposed, and revel in his sheer, mindless need. 

The low moan he lets slip is enough indication. And you will comply, he knows. You, too, feel your skin on fire with anticipation and desire. And, too, have you suffered from that familiar throb of flesh and heat and dampness. (Hope.)

He tugs at your frayed trousers, slides them down your smooth, knobby legs.

There is little ceremony in this. Mere action. Grasp, tear, grab.

Hands wander. Desperation grows, consumes the room and, soon, nothing can contain the explosive release when you find solace, at last, with one another: when Viktor nudges his cock between your sopping wet cunt, and fills you to the hilt; when his mouth presses bruises to your fluttering pulse.

You hiss through your teeth at his girth, at the abrasion of his rough lips against your flesh. In retrospect, he gasps at how seamlessly you stretch around him, chokes out a “you feel heavenly. so, so warm.” And soon the rhythm is established. 

(Grasp, tear, grab.)

“I-is it…” You whimper, blunt nails digging into the seams of the metal plates along his shoulder blades. “Can yo—can you feel this…?”

Can you, Viktor?

Pump, thud. Pump, thud.

“Everything.” It is raspy, desperate, full, and not enough. Not yet.

You wrap your legs around his waist, force him deeper within until his body trembles, and the metal frame of his sternum shudders under the force.

Pump, thud. Pump, thud.

His thrusts are sharp and precise, timed perfectly to the pulse of your heartbeat, and he watches, his mouth agape, as you shudder and writhe and squirm under him, begging mindlessly for more. Chanting his name.

He dips down to suck your swollen breasts into his mouth, tug your nipples between his canines. And then you cry out. Wildly — pleading to him, to everyone — you cry out:

“Take it all from me, Viktor!”

You roll your hips up, urging his thrusts to deepen, and the sweet, slick noises from your cunt has his knees shaking. “Drain me empty, fuck me senseless.”

Oh, does he adore when you speak to him filthy. Does it make him hope.

So, Viktor does what is asked of him, and fucks you within an inch of your sanity the only way he knows how: by taking.

By pillaging. Consuming. Unleashing —

— and as Viktor gets closer and closer, he drinks and drinks and holds tighter. And now he is there, right at the brink of release, where no hope, no future, can haunt him. Except yours.

He takes, until your flesh is reminiscent of the hue of a plum, ripe and sweet. He takes, until tears spill down your cheeks like a river, endless. He takes, until your heat is no longer bearable, and you are but a mess of a keening, needy woman. And it is, finally, his turn to cry out, to unleash his passion, to drink you all in. He takes, so that no other will have a reason to seek after you — hopes so.

He hopes it, and it is fleeting, and perfect and sweet, like you are when his mouth covers your neck and the taste of salt explodes on his tongue.

He takes until he’s spilling into you, and you around him.

He gives and takes until you are both a blur.

Neither human, nor machine.

But one.

Your breaths begin to slow — settle. And you look at him with that look, and those eyes, as your chest lifts raggedly and your hand hesitantly seeks his own.

thank you for reading ! reblogs and comments are immensely appreciated 💝

[slayfics]

Hello! Do you think you can do a Bakugo x reader who genuinely has a hard time accepting gifts and being spoiled because they grew up in a low income household? Thank you!

Katsuki gives you a gift.

600 words

Katsuki burst through the door of your shared apartment and announced his return, “Hey brat I’m home!”

You came to the front room to greet him and were taken off guard by what was in his hands.

He had a large stuffed animal tucked under his arm with his work belongings in the other. He dropped his work bag and handed the stuffed animal out to you.

“I picked this up on the way home for ya,” he explained.

You hesitantly grabbed the stuffed animal, quickly realizing it wasn’t just any stuffed animal. It was a special edition Sanrio plush that had just came out in your favorite character. One that you recognized to be rather pricey, as you had been eyeing it the last few days.  

You stared at the plush in your hands, overwhelmed by the mixed feelings that took over you.

“What? Ya don’t like it?” he asked, confused by your unenthusiastic reaction.

“No that’s not it!” You hurriedly replied.

“Then what? That’s your favorite character, right?” He further interrogated.

“Yeah, it is,” you confirmed.

“Then why are you looking like someone died?” He questioned.

You let out a sigh as you gathered your thoughts. You weren’t sure how to put how you felt into words. Yet, you knew it was a conversation you had to have. Lately Katsuki had been getting you more expensive and frequent gifts and it was triggering your past.

“I’m not used to this,” you explained. “Growing up we didn’t have a lot of resources. It was all my family could do to keep food on the table… Whenever they did buy me toys or extra clothes, I felt guilty… like they should have used that money for themselves instead. I love all these gifts you give me but- I can’t help but still feel guilty sometimes. I still have that instinct that I don’t need this, and money should only be spent on necessities.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, “That’s why I buy you all this stuff idiot,” he huffed. “I know how you grew up; we’ve talked about it so- I want to make up for what you didn’t have back then. I’m a top pro hero now so you don’t ever have to worry about not having enough money for necessities. What good is being a pro hero if I can’t spoil my favorite person.”

You looked up from the plush with misty eyes. Katsuki’s expression was stern, but his eyes were full of affection.

“Look,” Katsuki continued. “I know I don’t… say all the right things sometimes… and I’m not good at expressing how I feel about you. This is how I make up for that. By providing for you and getting you any damn thing you want. So… you can’t take this away from me because… it’s how I say I love you.”

You squeezed the stuffed animal as a tear broke free and ran down your cheek. Katsuki was quick to wipe it with his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Damn it,” he sighed. “You were supposed to smile and kiss me when I gave you the damn plush not cry.”

You sniffled, “It’s a good cry though.”

“Yeah yeah, come here,” he mumbled pulling you into an embrace. You nuzzled into his chest, holding the plush to your chest. “I mean that,” he continued. “You want or need anything you just tell me. Your family too. Gonna take care of all of ya now.” He spoke holding you tightly.

“I love you Kats,” you hummed into his chest.

“I love you too, so… say ya like the damn plus already.” He urged.

“It’s perfect,” you smiled.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99

[charlottelie]

oh, lucifer?

chapter i. (or, selkie sees a snake) ✧･ﾟ

tags: reader uses she/her pronouns, fem!reader, reader is a trapeze artist, sinner!reader, reader works at lu lu world, no use of y/n, ducks galore

.

You hadn’t meant to. Your guiding philosophy in life and afterlife had always been ‘Ask for forgiveness, not permission’, and it seemed so sound a maxim that you were usually slightly bemused when you found yourself in the unfortunate position of actually having to ask for forgiveness. Upon your arrival in Hell you had thought, Well, I certainly didn’t mean to end up here. Upon your arrival in Lu Lu World you had thought, Well, I wouldn’t say I exactly intended to join a Hadean circus. You hadn’t meant for either of these moral catastrophes to come about—that is, your sending yourself to the Other Place and your working at a fairground—but, despite all your good intentions, here you were. Rotten luck. 

You also hadn’t meant to be late for your act again, but here you were, late as always. You dusted your hands with chalk, briskly clapping them more out of habit than anything else as you examined your makeup in a misty mirror someone had propped up outside the dressing rooms. A poster on the wall, framed by peeling paint, announced your act in proud block capitals: Selkie, the Flying Seal! They had put you right before the interval. Did that make you the star performer? Third-best, at any rate: best were the acrobats, Belladonna and the Bedbugs, the grand finale, and second-best was Sunny’s balancing act, which opened the show. You could hear someone approaching, and fast. Your boss, no doubt, come to gently encourage you to get the fuck onto the stage. 

You looked at him mildly: Didier, who insisted it was pronounced ‘Didi-AIR’, tall, half-imposing, mostly composed, rarely generous, currently furious beyond belief. 

“Selkie! Where the fuck have you been? You’re on in thirty seconds! Ten, nine, eight—” 

You liked to think of him as sort of a lost soul, someone you’d taken under your wing, although, of course, he had been the one to take pity on you and hire you in the first place, and, of course, it was your soul that was on the line. “I’m sorry, Didi-yur,” you said quietly, and he scoffed. As you watched him thoughtfully, compassionately, he grabbed you by the shoulders and half-pushed, half-led you onto the platform—surely a textbook case of abuse in the workplace, if you weren’t in Hell—and you gave him a final glance of serene benevolence before, at his command, you whipped around, stepped into the blazing golden lights of the great circus tent, waved to the crowd, flashed a smile, and leapt from the platform into the open space before you. 

The breathless silence. The hot dusty air. The rush in your stomach like an oncoming wave before you lightly caught the bar another performer had flung towards you, adjusted your grip, and neatly somersaulted to another swing. Here a half-turn, here a straddle whip, and here, at the very peak of the motion of the trapeze, you let go, and hung impossibly in the air for a second before you plummeted, as you were wont to do, and were caught by another trapeze artist. Of course the dizzying leaps and the melodramatic plunges were part of the act. You knew the movements, the swings and the sways and the somersaults; you were, admittedly, at home here. The onlookers roared in delight; your heart, admittedly, soared. But as you spun, leant back, shifted your weight, glanced at the audience, you noticed, about three rows from the front, an unprecedented, unsolicited, indeed undesirable arrival: the strangest demon you had ever met. Or, at least, the strangest demon in the past three days. 

The fine kettle of fish was this. Belladonna, Sunny, Pell-Mell, the clowns, the knife-throwers, the knife-throwees, even the Bedbugs, bless their hearts, had all signed their souls over to Didier. He had expected the same of you when you had been given the job. But you, unused to asking, used to getting, were not prepared to quite merrily hand over the one thing that had guaranteed your continued existence to a man in a slim red tie. And so you had taken on a different sort of contract—which could have been hot, but, regrettably, Didier was not inclined to make such exchanges. You were simply paid far less than what you needed. That was all. The prosaic truth. He had you under contract, but nothing so poetic as a soul-binding one. You simply sewed your own costumes, went without breakfast. You scrounged around for whatever you could whenever you could. You had taken up residence in a formerly-disused caravan with the structural integrity of a multivitamin capsule. 

You had found there was little glory in starving, little romance. It was the banality of it that struck you, when you sighed weakly after your taps wouldn’t turn on, or Didi cut off your electricity, or you found you would have to choose between food and heating. It was the endless rolling of the cold and empty days that you suspected would grind you down in the end. But of course they were punctuated by your dazzling nights, your whirling wheeling flights through the grandly lit top tent that drew so many to Lu Lu World. And of course you were resourceful. 

In your life you had always been willing to bend the rules. In your death you were no different. You had the right kind of mind for business, and your business was, up there and down here, remarkably effective. Any con, put-on, cutup, cantrip, flimflam, ramp or scam anyone could think of, you’d done it. You once stole a woman’s shoes and sold them to her husband’s mistress for twice the retail price. Double-joke was on her, because purple was not her color. Only yesterday you had sold a sweet-looking sinner an ‘astral lightning rod’ meant to attract ‘negative interdimensional frequencies’ and channel them into their neighbors’ houses. The lightning rod in question was a refashioned rake you had found in the bins outside the gift shop. To put it plainly, as it were, if it had to be said, you were a, quote-unquote, ‘scammer’, though you and yours would never call it that. You hadn’t meant to end up in this trade, after all. You would like to think you had an entrepreneurial mindset. 

This entrepreneurial mindset had landed you in a stall (without a permit, obviously) in the Lu Lu World food court, having donned a wig and taken on the persona of a charming Texan aunt. Here you sold separately heart-shaped chocolates you had bought in bulk, meticulously unwrapped, and meticulously re-wrapped in shiny pink paper, to whichever passing demons or sinners appeared lonely or gullible or both. You told them all these chocolates, if consumed, would make anyone fall in love with them. To a pale imp in a band T-shirt you had sold three for five times what you’d paid for a box of eight; to a fishlike sinner whose disinterested girlfriend had abandoned him for the fairyfloss stall you sold five at, you told him, fifty percent off (which was three times the usual price). They had told their friends; their friends had flocked to your stall; soon afterwards, your original buyers had come back for more. But now there was a lull in business, as there usually was at this time of the afternoon. So when you noticed a duck demon – literally, a demon the size and shape of a duck, albeit a cartoonishly cute one – with an odd gait and a faraway look in his eyes, you were thrilled to have once again hit the jackpot.

You called him over excitedly. “Hey there, friend, what’s got you looking so glum?” That caught his attention. Hook. “You know, I see all sorts of people come through here. But ain’t none of them got such a positively chap-fallen look on their faces—not to insult you, gorgeous.” He was watching you with wary curiosity. Line. “Come on. Don’t you wanna tell old Mrs. Appleby all about it?” Sinker. 

“You’re not married,” he said. Sinker? That was strange. 

“What?”

“You’re not married. You’re not wearing a wedding ring.” Was he one of those? A flirt? Read: creep? Those were often easier to sell to. 

You pointed at your sign. Mrs. Appleby’s Apple-licious Treats. “Mrs. Appleby. That all that ambiguous?” you said, which won you a small smile from this bizarrely fluffy, bizarrely yellow duck. He flew surprisingly gracefully (you, the Flying Seal, knew what made a graceful flight) towards your stall, perching on the countertop just in front of your merchandise. And as he did so, you felt a dull crackle of power in the air, but, habitually incautious, you ignored it. Perhaps an Overlord-adjacent was taking a piss behind the neighboring food truck. Something like that. 

“It’s just heart-shaped candy,” he said. Usually demons looked like they’d just crawled out of a monsoon drain. Not this duck. He looked like a dapper gift-shop-plushie, the kind that comes with a sweet tag with their inevitably adorable name, written beneath it, Please look after this [relevant animal]! 

“Just heart-shaped candy? Why, this is the best heart-shaped candy you’ve ever had the good fortune to feast your eyes upon! ‘Why is that, Mrs. Appleby?’ Why, I’ll tell ya!” He seemed to be enjoying himself, not least because he hadn’t left. “This chocolate is magic!” That earned you another smile. 

“Really? Is that so?”

“Sure is. Straight from my distant uncle Asmodeus. Just eat one, wait three hours, and you’ll be feeling sprightly as a spring lamb. Two’ll have all the hens—or the men, don’t look so dejected, whatever you prefer—running after you like you’re catnip and they’re a litter of kittens.”

“Hold on now. You’re trying to sell me chocolate…chocolate-ified love potions? Love potion-ified chocolate? Love-ified—” 

You waved a hand at him in pleasant dismissal. “Now, don’t you overthink it, honey. I just saw you needed a helping hand and Auntie Appleby thought she’d take a”—you surprised even yourself with this one—“quack at it.” For a glorious moment he struggled between delight and disappointment. Then he laughed, genuinely, and smiled at you with something like satisfaction.

“Two’ll make me catnip. What’ll three do?”

You paused, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I ate three, and look at me now.” 

And after that it really had been sinker, and you’d sold him a box of ten and wrapped it up in pink parchment and given it to him in a pretty heart-shaped bag with added glitter. You wondered if he’d realized he was being fleeced. There was an air of irony about the way he treated you, but you were pleased to play along. A sale was a sale.

Naturally, though, you tried not to encounter people you’d sold something to after you’d sold it to them. You’d been a little careless today, telling them to wait only three hours. You’d thought that’d be enough to get them out of the grounds, but this duck was persistent. As usual, you hadn’t meant for this to happen. He still had his heart-shaped bag. He was sitting smugly in a seat far too large for him. Did he recognise you? Could he recognise you? The Flying Seal was a far cry from homely Mrs. Appleby. It could have been a coincidence. Perhaps he just liked the circus. It wasn’t strictly unusual to re-encounter your customers. But he was watching you intently, you realized, before you had to maneuver yourself into the arms of your closest friend in the circus, your counterpart, Pell-Mell, the Soaring Fiddler. And then, still incautious, you let the strange duck slip from your mind, and flung yourself from the catchbar again. 

Lucifer had decided to visit Lu Lu World less out of curiosity and more out of boredom and a vague sense of duty. It was, after all, his theme park. He’d been reckless, coming as a duck, but who’d guess this out-of-place, out-of-sorts waterfowl was the Lightbringer himself? Besides, he’d wanted to watch the circus. He hadn’t quite known what to expect. Perhaps he’d expected to be disappointed. 

But now he watched you in what seemed your most natural state. Flying, entertaining. Even without the wig and the bizarre Texan accent he recognised you (he, of all people, knew what made a good trick, a good show). He saw how you fed on the crowd’s cheers like they kept you alive. It was miraculously complex and miraculously simple. You were happy they were happy. He watched you as you rose and dove through the air as your namesake might through water—easily, happily, unembarrassed—and the lights, your smile, the spectacle, recalled to him, dimly, as if seen through rain, something he had felt a long time ago. 

You landed delicately on the platform opposite the one you had arrived from. “Selkie, the Flying Seal!” the ringmaster declared triumphantly. You winked mischievously at the audience. Did you realize they were thrilled with you? Could you realize it? Did the whole performance require a level of obliviousness? You caught the outstretched hand of your fellow performer, a small, slender girl sporting a glossy bob, and lifted her onto the platform. The two of you gave a final bow, and you, beaming, looked not down at the audience but up at the distant lights. 

Lucifer decided half-consciously that he ought to come back.

[rubra-wav]

Husk x shy/insecure reader? Him helping reader be more confident and to stand up for themself!

Maybe even a lil scene where he calls them out for always agreeing to everything without second thought, calling them naive (and maybe stupid. He is a bit rough). They could react by either crying and confessing they hate conflict and thats why they do that, or they could whisper the confession (no tears, up to you).

Husk x shy/insecure reader : Above Whispers

A/N I wasn't sure if this was supposed to romantic or platonic so I went with platonic, sorry.

I NEED to remake this banner istg

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, Husker is tough loving in his callout (idk how to tag it properly)

- You'd been a resident of the hotel for several months, during this time catching the eye of the resident bartender.

- You quietly did as you were told, never raising your voice even when it was obvious you didn't want to do something or didn't agree with something someone was saying.

- Anything to avoid conflict.

- These things not only irritated the bartender about you but also concerned him.

- He'd pushed several times intentionally testing the waters with you, and you hadn't done a single thing against it, just going along with his will.

- A sinner like you would be taken advantage of sooner rather than later in hell, possibly even by certain other residents.

- On multiple occasions, he had forced more malevolent forces Alastor to stay away from you, but it was clear he'd be working himself until the end of time to keep you from falling into someone's clutches if you didn't actually change yourself.

- Despite Husk's more apathetic side telling him to stay out of it, he confronted you upon it after a long day of group activities, cornering you to speak with you.

- You looked up at Husk in slight discomfort as he stood in front of you in the shittily carpet lined hallway looking very serious. Despite being a rather cute looking demon, all things considered, he was still intimidating.

- "That whole time you were letting that overly obnoxious bleeding heart push you around like a lost puppy." Husk said bluntly.

- You jolted like you'd been zapped at his words, going to try and protest that you just didn't mind, really, but you were cut off short.

- "You aren't foolin' me with the 'oh it's fine' bullshit. Drop it and be honest." Husk took a step forward towards you, watching you starting to shake slightly, eyes going misty.

- You shuffled uncomfortably, looking away with clear discomfort, chest aching at being called out. You just wanted to disappear.

- "..You're right." Your lip quivered as you fought and failed to keep your voice from quivering like the rest of you. "I hate causing issues. It doesn't matter if I'm uncomfortable as long as there's no negative attention on me, I-"

- Husk's hand came to rest on your shoulder, cutting you off from rambling. You looked up to his yellow eyes, clearly a vision of irritation bordered by his bushy eyebrows. "You're naive and fucking stupid." He announced, startling you.

- You sighed heavily, a tear slowly sliding down your cheek. You slowly nodded in agreement after a couple of seconds of heavy silence, prompting the demon's ear to twitch.

- "Dont agree! Fight against me! You need to get over this complete avoidance of confrontation!" Husk pat his hand on your shoulder. "This shit in hell is just going to get you either shackled to someone for all eternity like I am or fucking killed!"

- You were surprised to watch him go from annoyance to seemingly being extremely concerned for your safety so quickly. Husk was concerned about showing as much as well, forcing his face to be a mask of indifference and taking his hand off of you.

- He looked back at you coolly as he turned away to leave. "Do what you want, but don't come crying to me when you end up owned. God knows I have enough suckers whining to me in this dump." He grumbled, walking away with heavy steps.

- You stood in place, thinking about his words and the actions from him that you now registered as him trying to help you out of the situations you had gotten yourself into.

- He was right, and you knew it. It wouldn't be easy to get yourself out of being a yes-man, but.. something inside you had the feeling the overly pessimistic bartender would help you through it.

- Husk on the other hand, was facepalming about it. He just knew he'd be cursing himself for caring about another one.

[angelicadamposting]

Missy Misery₍ᐢᐢ₎| Overlord of Obsession 

art credit to mr.artzy.shrimp on instagram !

Real Name: Misty Landry (not dead name) Preferred Name: Missy Misery  Species: Jackalope Demon / Sinner / Overlord* (Formerly Human) Sin: Wrath / Pride (+ others that aren’t one of the main 7) Physical Age: 39 Birth Date: July 13, 1894 Zodiac: Cancer  Death Year: 1933 Cause of Death: Shot in the head, alongside Alastor Height: 5'5 MBTI: ENFJ  Gender & Pronouns: She/Her - Transwoman  Sexuality: Gray-Asexual (Hetero-romantic) Romantic Interest(s): Alastor <3 and Vox * = Overlord of Obsession

Short Facts

Overlord of Obsession and Love

Alastor’s wife, though not legally due to the time

Killed her father

Born on a Friday the 13th (1984 July)

Was/is a cannibal 

A listener of Alastor’s radio broadcasts before ever meeting him

Sang/Performed at Mimzy’s bar/speakeasy in life

Met Alastor at Mimzy’s bar, introduced by their mutual friend. 

Currently an actress in film, commercials, and musicals for Vox.

After Alastor’s disappearance, Vox offers her a contract that would provide protection from other overlords and her dream job. She works beneath him the whole seven years Alastor is missing until the pilot/main series.

Growing to obsess over Vox before Alastor suddenly reappears. 

Is not technically a part of the Vees, but lives in the tower with them.

Adores Nifty and gets along well with Husk, surprisingly. 

Initially inspired by the song 'There's No Business Like Showbusiness.' & a lot of Ethel Merman's discography.

Likes♡

Acting

Music 

Singing

Needlepoint, Sewing & Crochet 

Tea

Red Wine

Romance Novels

Graphic 'Design' / Art

Painting 

Dancing (Swing Dancing Particularly)

Classy Fashion / Period Pieces

Fur Boas / Shawls / Coats

Decor Made From (human) Remains

Home Design / Decor 

Scrapbooking …

Dislikes‹/𝟹

Being Alone

Being Belittled or Disrespected

Clutter

The Ticking of a Clock

Black Coffee

Her Schedule Being Changed

People with Poor Time Management Skills

Open Windows

Over The Head Headphones

Being Touched Without Express Permission

Hypocrites

Unsophisticated People

Modeling 

Modern Dance Styles (Hip Hop / “whatever it is JuJuVi does”)

Personality Traits 

Positive – Affectionate, Analytical, Glamorous, Confident, Classy, Charming, Alluring, Elegant, Creative, Adaptable, Decisive, Efficient, Organized, Loyal, Mature, Somewhat Kind, Passionate, Perceptive, Private, Professional, Sentimental, Emotional, Responsible, Sophisticated, Talented, Wise, and Witty

Negative – Obsessive, Wrathful, Prideful, Vengeful, Apathetic, Catty, Cynical, Fanatical, Greedy, Often Grumpy, Impatient, Jealous, Possessive, Judgemental, Know-It-All, Morbid, Nagging, Stubborn, Violent, Workaholic

Backstory (before Hell)

Missy was born in 1895 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana as (Marcel) Misty Landry to an alcoholic father and mother who would die shortly after childbirth. She grew up being raised by her father to be like him and work within the agricultural realm of work-- Much to her dismay.

From a young age and when radios were popularized, beginning to pop up in houses across the states, Missy was enthralled with the music and talking people from within the box. Music inspired her from a young age to go against the grain and figure out who she was- not who her father 'needed' her to be.

In high school, she began to understand that she was a woman. The revelation was jarring, and a secret she kept close. Many things were not accepted where she grew up, and being different wasn't one.

Her father, while unaware of her newfound identity, did anything but respect his child. Noticing whenever Missy had begun practicing singing and dance instead of her household chores, only to ridicule her for being a pansy and some much worse insults. When he drank, he'd somehow be nicer- and weaker. Something Missy would take advantage of when committing patricide for her first homicide after enduring his mistreatment her entire life up to said point. It wasn't done out of anger, or heat of the moment- no. It was planned, calculated, and thought over for weeks before she took the opportunity to escape from beneath his thumb. The taste of his blood was not one she'd ever forget. As bitter and horrid as it was, the satisfaction it brought her was more than enough.

Missy had been closeted the majority of her life until her father 'passed away' when she was 21. She inherited his debt and responsibilities as the "man of the house" and the last of her family line. Rather than pick up the mantle, live in the closet for the rest of her days, and die unhappy- She moved several towns over to New Orleans and began to present more femininely whenever she could, calling herself Misty when she did so that anytime she did have to present as her legal/birth identity there'd be little to no association. Essentially living a double life. As Marcel, she would work as a men's tailor, and as Misty, she'd sing from bar to bar. That is until she found one bar that regularly asked her to return.

It was at this particular speakeasy that Missy would first meet Mimzy, another performer at the bar. The two became quick friends, and truthfully Mimzy was Missy's first 'girl friend.' (non-romantic) Mimzy was the first person in life to learn of Missy's gender identity, and surprisingly the first person to accept her for who she was. Mimzy helped inspire Missy to go on as herself, giving her confidence and helping her find her own voice.

It was around this time that Missy would first hear Alastor's radio broadcasts. By total chance, flipping through stations as she sat in her kitchen preparing a pot of tea, his voice poured through the speakers and ignited her interest. She quickly began to tune into all of his broadcasts, even adjusting her schedule to ensure she didn't miss any time he was on air. To put it frankly, she became somewhat of a near-obsessive 'fangirl' if anything even without knowing the man behind the charismatic voice and fake mid-Atlantic accent.

What Missy was unaware of though, was that soon after she began listening to him- Alastor would soon see her sing at the bar after one of Mimzy's stellar performances. And while he was nowhere near as intrigued by her as she was by him, he did soon ask Mimzy about her little friend. Mimzy, being the great friend she was, was eager to introduce the two- seeing as she knew just how much Missy was obsessed with Al's radio show. Missy easily hid how she instantly recognized his voice, greeting him politely like he was any other customer. And yet, he asked her to dance in between her stage times.

After that night, Missy continued to make her efforts to listen to each of his broadcasts. And now knowing who he was behind the radio, she may have begun to take extra steps to see him more often. At the same time, Alastor seemingly dropped by the speakeasy Missy performed at more often. Several weeks of the two getting to know one another, and watching one another from afar in their own ways passed before Alastor asked Missy if she would be interested in officially starting a courtship. It was this conversation that led to Alastor learning of her gender identity, and much to her surprise, he didn't care.

The two would begin a relationship that to half of the public, looked like just two friends, but to the circle of folk who frequented the speakeasy- everyone knew the two as the happy couple they had become. Of course, there were still men who'd come and get belligerently drunk, throwing themselves at Missy or Mimzy- and most of them ended up Missy's victims.

It wasn't until Missy and Alastor moved in with one another that they learned of each other's homicidal tendencies as it grew more difficult to hide. Instead of rocking the boat, this revelation strengthened their bond because each of them had a similar yet odd moral code regarding their victims. Soon, emotionally tied the knot despite the laws surrounding marriage. Having a small, private ceremony over a victim with a ring exchange.

After many years in a near-perfect romantic partnership, in 1933, their lives were taken. Side by side while hiding a body and shot by a hunter in the distance while discarding of extra remains of a shared victim. 

After Death (In Hell) (still b4 pilot)

(missy's backstory in hell is too difficult to pinpoint years and dates like a lot of my other ocs... so no timeline this time!)

Alastor and Missy appeared in Hell together, and nearly instantaneously her beloved made a deal of which the details could never be shared with her. The contract gave Alastor his eldrich powers and allowed him to quickly rise to the power level of an overlord. Missy, on the other hand, struggled with her new form and powers. Feeling her control and strength wane depending on the amount of love she felt and received- on top of growing stronger by taking down current overlords. It didn't worry her, though. Knowing and believing as long as she was side by side with Alastor, all would be fine.

Eventually, as Alastor grew into his true role as the Radio Demon, an overlord in his own right, Missy had become the overlord of Obsession- and love, by her own claims. The two had a strained, complicated, and sad relationship with Vox during this period, which would eventually end dramatically. The main true 'friend' the couple shared in Hell that shared in their desire for power and rank was Rosie, the Cannibalism Overlord. She understood Missy better than anyone else in Hell, besides her beloved.

After decades together in Hell, Missy awoke one day with no sign of her beloved. No note, nothing to give her a sign he'd gone or would return. And her powers seemed to wane from the realization alone. An overwhelming panic set into her, rushing out into the streets of Pentagram City in a desperate search for him. Her search ended with no clues, and she returned empty-handed- all alone for the first time in decades.

She managed as well as she could on her own, although the other Overlords began to notice the shift in power and Alastor's absence. Putting a target on her back, and sending her into hiding.

After a year into Alastor's disappearance, Vox found the sinner. Grinning madly, he offered an outstretched hand, and deal to assist her. For her soul, he'd grant her greater powers, a job as an actress or star of the stage to attain fans and achieve a dream she didn't realize she had. Of course, Missy was fully aware Vox was likely doing this for two main reasons and neither were to help her. The little rabbit demon knew Vox likely only wished to hold something over Alastor's head if he ever returned and to have another soul to own. She hesitated to accept, but he ensured her she'd have a place to live- safe from other overlords and even the exterminations. She'd have been dumb to refuse, after all, if Alastor had the right to make a deal with some unknown being, why couldn't she make one with Vox?

Subsequently, Missy moved into a room at the VoxTek Tower to get to and from the filming sets more easily. Quickly falling into her new role as a star actress in film and stage, as if she was always meant for this. Nearly every motion picture or musical featuring the Overlord of Obsession was a hit, resulting in her fame and fans growing. As this occurred, Vox's behavior towards her became more familiar. Even teaching her more about technology, since she'd avoided much new tech due to her husband's distaste for it all. Surprisingly, she was quite skilled with graphic design, learned how to code, and became Vox's main assistant in case things went awry with him.

Velvette and Valentino noticed the way Vox seemed to favor her and kept her close. Resulting in some teasing, but mostly leading Velvette and Missy to become friends. Velvette enjoyed teaching the older woman about modern slang, technology, and social media she didn't understand. Thinking it hilarious how she mispronounced what was common internet lingo for the social media overlord. Valentino on the other hand, tried to push Missy into trying out a different kind of acting- one she was not comfortable with in the slightest. The rabbit demon and moth had quite a frustrating dynamic, Missy making fun of him and shooting both him and his requests down, only for Valentino to complain to Vox that his 'pet' was being mean.

All in all, despite their vast differences, Missy ended up getting along quite well with the V's. Growing particularly close to Vox and Velvette, even if she felt in the back of her mind a gnawing concern for what Alastor would say if he saw her now.

[inafieldofdaisies]

5 Songs, 3 Outfits | Tagged by @clicheantagonist @marivenah @shellibisshe @onehornedbeast @voidika @nightbloodbix @g0dspeeed @corvosattano @amalkavian @carlosoliveiraa @kyber-infinitygems

Rules: Post 5 songs associated with your OC, followed by 3 outfits they would wear.

Power - Missy

Hellhounds howling for the heathens Fire wings, Salem, Madness reasons Taste the blood of the purest treason Hellhounds howling for the heathens Power, witch, so, so, so, so, so much power

Black Gold - Missy

You're like gold, black gold My kinda poison, I would do anything just for you to be mine

Doomsday - Kendra Dantes

When the world's in ashes, lost to all the havoc Raise our swords and fight till doomsday When the earth is severed, we will not surrender In this war, we'll fight till doomsday

Arise - CLANN

Thrown to pieces, ast to the wind From ashes we ascend Harken to me, hang on, this life's your own I'm right here beside you, you're not alone In darkness we shine Now place your hand in mine Arise

American Jesus - Nessa Barrett

Knees down at your altar, please don't fail me now You know all my secrets, American Jesus, baby, won't you take me to heaven tonight? You know you're my weakness, American Jesus, save me You're the greatest love of my life

Velvet World - Shiadanni

Just like the sun, I melt the snow Diva la Catrina, like a diva Strip down yourself, I'll tango with your love I'll be your medicina, your tequil I'll hide in your warm arm in the misty dawn Gentle, treat me like a piece of art

Jungle Type Love - Skylar

He's a psychopath and I like that, made a run for the famous triangle Bermuda Bark and I bite back Couldn't give him all my time, my service required Sun in my veins have all these desires

Daddy Issues - Skylar

Sinner in your shirt, attire illegal Take off that shirt, oh, we could stay for the night, we'll make the sequel Slutty in the satin sheets, then I'II leave you Bit of naked poetry for the people

Bad Bandit - Xana

Now she promised me her best in a bloody satin dress And i could see forever in her golden eyes My baby told me lies, I swear i'm gonna die But i ain't the one biting the dust tonight

Lethal Woman - Dove Cameron

'Cause she walks like a saint, floats like an angel Sharp like a knife under the table

Tagging, @strangefable @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @la-grosse-patate @dumbassdep @florbelles @cassietrn @purplehairsecretlair @nightbloodbix @theelderhazelnut @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @wrathfulrook @thesingularityseries @direwombat @simonxriley @the-silver-chronicles @strafethesesinners @gearvmac @captastra and anyone that would like to do the tag <3

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, September 28

GILES: That's the flora kua alaya. A native of Paraguay, if my botany serves. WILLOW: Is there anything you don't know everything about? GILES: Synchronized swimming. Complete mystery to me.

~~BtVS 7x01 “Lessons”~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Cherry on Top (Buffy, PG-13) by veronyxk84

Divine Comedy in the Pool of Lethe (Angel/Darla, E) by CoffeeHunt

Steamy Pleasure (Buffy/Willow, E) by TacoFett

not a rosary (Buffy/Faith, T) by watcherless

Mouthfuls of Thaumaturgy (Spike/Drusilla, E) by SomeKindOfADeviant

[Untitled] (Wesley, Spike, not rated) by fevers-and-emeto-oh-my

Raising the Stakes (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by cawthraven

[Chaptered Fiction]

The More Things Change..., Chapter 1/? (Buffy/Faith, Stargate xover, T) by storiwr

Be Back Before Dawn, Chapter 1/19 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Blissymbolics

The Right Swipe, Chapter 10/? (Buffy/Giles, E) by DancingAngel0013

Supporting Loki (and Thor), Chapter 16/18 (Willow, Buffy, Marvel xover, M) by SomeMeaninglessName

The Usurper, Chapter 3/4 (Buffy/OMC, Willow/OMC, Cordelia/OMC, E) by CambrianBeckett

Secrets That We Keep, Chapter 9/? (Ensemble, multiship, M) by NegaCorgi

One Girl in All the World, Chapter 44 (Buffy/Faith, T) by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

The Adventures Of Cordelia Chase and Xander Lavelle Harris vol.4: New Beginning, Chapter 11 COMPLETE! (Xander, Anya, Cordelia, T) by Lizzy100

The Adventures Of Cordelia Chase and Xander Lavelle Harris vol.5: New Happenings, Chapter 6 COMPLETE! (Xander, Anya, Cordelia, T) by Lizzy100

[French Language] Infiltré, Chapter 16 COMPLETE! (Buffy/Spike, T) by MissKitty28

Soul Mate Magic, Chapter 7 (Giles/OC, M) by EmmaMBlack

Stupid Thing, Chapter 6 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Misti

Be Back Before Dawn, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Blissymbolics

Little Light, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Melme1325

Supporting Loki (and Thor), Chapter 16 (Willow, Buffy, Marvel xover, M) by NobodyAtAll

To All We Guard, Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by simmony

1632 Revello Drive, Chapter 1 by MiaththeRed

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Collage #179 (Spike/Drusilla, worksafe) by thedecadentraven

Artwork: [drawing of Joyce and Giles from "Band Candy"] (worksafe) by canciqer

Artwork: Please please please I want so badly to think that Spike is Billy Idol (Spike, worksafe) by canciqer

Gifset: Every Tara look: S4E18 Where the Wild Things Are (worksafe) by lovebvffys

Artwork: Drew buffy black once a bit ago and then I thought about it a lot and now it’s the only way I draw her + summerberg (worksafe) by pzyii

Gifset: Dawn Summers + Outfits (Season 5) (worksafe) by clarkgriffon

Gifset: Buffy Meme: [4/8 Episodes] 4x16 Who are you? (worksafe) by lovebvffys

Artwork: — so much damn confusion before my eyes / ramones, poison heart (Spike, worksafe) by silkspectred

Artwork: Spike & Buffy no-erase pencil sketch from “Wrecked,” about 40 minutes in the sketchbook (slightly NSFW) by thegothicalice

Moodboard: Buffy the vampire slayer 1997 – 2003 (worksafe) by la-was-here

Artwork: Another William Pratt, in a poet shirt (worksafe) by isevery0nehereverystoned

Artwork: William the Bloody Awful Poet (worksafe) by isevery0nehereverystoned

Artwork: Pic by me, text by EF and Ao3’s cawthraven aka Stiney (William, Buffy, worksafe) by isevery0nehereverystoned

Icons: Faith Lehane — Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7 (worksafe) by nostalgc

DIY Buffy Fashion: Fear, Itself Buffy costume (worksafe) by Nocturnal-Nycticebus

Video: Sinner (Buffy/Spike, ensemble, M) by SweetPollyOliver

Video: My Own Dance (Buffy/Spike, ensemble, T) by periru3, Tafadhali

[Reviews & Recaps]

PODCAST: Find the Snort (S4E22) by It Stakes Two

[Recs & In Search Of]

Coffee by MrsGordo (Buffy/Angel, M) recced by iwillrememberyoumarathon

ISO: Can anyone recommend a dress that looks like Buffy’s white dress in Prophecy Girl? requested by Agile-Heron6761

ISO: Chronological Spike/Angel Flashback FanEdit requested by reyalsyffub

[Community Announcements]

[18+ Ropleplay Community] SEEKING MUSES FROM BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER! by tinytownoregonrp

[Fandom Discussions]

Honestly Gunn and Fred are lowkey the relationship I’m striving for by april-the-fan-girl

[reblog thread on 'how does a soul work' meta by trealtox] by ennairea

The buffy fandom would rather ship buffy x giles than bangel by becomingpart2

[anon ask] what’s your opinion on willow rosenberg? answered by sulietsexual

Anyway i’ve finished season 4 of buffy, but i already know more or less what will happen in later seasons [...] And now i swear i can’t even continue with the episodes because i just feel sick every time i think about what buffy has to go through by thecryofmadness

the cut between anya singing about xander to the present with a sword through her chest in s7 e5 selfless gets me EVERYTIME by canseethebrushstrokes

i just think the way spuffy flips the script on romcom tropes is so important by slugessence

willow standing on the rooftop away from the fight observing from a distance and telepathically telling everyone what to do by lesbianmarrow

i can’t imagine watching the last few episodes of btvs s5 and the last few episodes of angel s2 at the same time by lesbianmarrow

Can’t believe ppl think that Xander is the worst yet hail Spike when they are literally the same - creator’s pet/self-insert by prudeau

it’s actually so nuts to me that no one across both shows objects to giving angel the gem of amarra by moistvonlipwig

I love the amount of effort Spike and Angel put into their hair despite how difficult it would be for them to even know what they looked like by thequeenofsastiel

[anon ask] How’s it going with Buffy? A strong love/hate relationship already budding? answered by thetriangletattoo

To the older ones!! B&A question! continued by ILLYRIAN

Dead Things by Trixieswizzle

Why weren't slayers taught magic? by Grimdotdotdot

Continuity between I Was Made to Love You and The Body by Tuxedo_Mark

Slayer Logic? by Jonesybell

What’s an episode where you love the A-plot and hate the B-plot? by thetizzlewizzleshow

I don’t understand the complaints about Wesley’s attraction to Fred by DevilManRay

The show is fabulous at bizarre/shocking/funny cuts from 1 scene to another. Is there a better cut than the one from the end of Anya's song in "Selfless"? by Al_Bee

What happened to the left over bringers after the first was sealed off? by Pangeasrighthand

How does the First appear as Warren? by friendofathena

What perfume do you guys think Buffy/the characters would wear? by user230224

Differences in the fandom between the early seasons and later? by redskinsguy

I am i the only person who disliked the trio of nerds? In particular Andrew. by Prudent_Border5060

What do you think they would’ve done with Cordelia if she stayed on Buffy by DevilManRay

Asking for advice on how to watch Buffy & Angel by _3lleee

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

PUBLICATION: James Marsters Addresses Returning As Brainiac In Tom Welling & Michael Rosenbaum's Smallville Sequel Show by ScreenRant

PUBLICATION: ‘Buffy’ Pop-Up Deploys Candy Corn Malort for a True Chicago Nightmare by Eater Chicago

PUBLICATION: Availability of Spike (Punk) Funko Pop in Europe and US by James Marsters News (on X)

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

[caffeiiine]

@im-a-chunky-potato

my dearest potato, this is revenge for making me cry over a fic for the first time

[tw for implied suicide btww to everybody else seeing this <3]

He remained silent throughout the aftermath. The only thing he could force out between the static accumulating between his ears being a pathetically quiet squeak. 

 ~~~

As Nikolai attempted to recall the events as they occurred, he became increasingly aware of failures within his memory. blotches of the crash and the hours after seemingly gone from his mind.

Something had cracked in him. He didn’t know what it was, other than it was broken. Something was irrevocably damaged. 

He placed his hand to his heart, he hardly noticed the cold now. The fleshy organ of his throbbed someplace inside him.

Was it in his ears? in his head? his wrists?

This wasn’t the plan, was it?

If it were, Fyodor would have been back by now. He would’ve found Nikolai. Would’ve given him some feeble reassurance he had played his role perfectly. Something for Nikolai to live off of. Anything. Anything at all would've done by this point. Even a whispered “good job” or the brush of Fyodors hand against his own.

This wasn’t the plan. This was never the plan.

The reality sunk into his shoulders, dragging him down beneath the waves of his newfound despair.

His soul was lost.

This was the only ending he could’ve come to.

The wind bit at his skin. The sharp nips bringing rise to a gentle pink as his fingertips trembled.

Fyodor would tease him if he could see him right now, so pathetic. something about a sinners devotion to his god. or something in general about god. Something like that.

The wind whispers in a familiar voice behind him. “you don’t know?” (have you forgotten already?)

He doesn’t respond. It won’t be real anyways.

The ground is hard where he rests. (is it still resting if it’s hardly a break from the ‘fleshy hell’ of yours?)

He was the hollow shell of something. (isn't it what you wanted?)

The winds blow the rising misty airs from the rivers below past his face.

Even after his death, Nikolai still wasn’t free. Fyodor continuously tormented him, he toyed with his emotions from the grave still. He didn’t know what to do with it all. Should he go further? Lose himself wholly and completely?  or should he find out where it all went wrong. would he ever find it? or would he spiral until he finds the point of nothingness. (even if you found it, would you even attempt to fix it?)

He raised his hands to cup his cheeks as he moved to rest his elbows on his knees. The chill shivered up his body. It’s still cold.

He stared out at the cliff face just before his feet. The night sky was truly beautiful tonight. Chalky stars gave way to a big and bright yet bone colored moon. (it has the same color as my bones, don’t you notice it?)

First, Sigma. Gone. Nikolai never found the body. And he had searched everywhere for it. (Nothing to remember him by, how much have you forgotten already?)

The nausea clawed at his insides all over again.

Second, Fyodor. Dead, he confirmed it. The souvenir rested atop a red velvet pillow back in his apartment. He couldn’t be sure whether the blood had stained it or not like it did his gloves. (does the blood still gush out from between your fingers like you remember?)

Third, Fukuchi. Dead, killed by his own vice captain. (she loved him. She had gotten what you wanted.)

Fourth, Bram. left. 

One by one, they each succumbed to their own decay. It is only right that he follows suit. To end the tragic chapter the world seemed to be stuck in. (It doesn’t end with you.)

Slowly he pulls himself from the ground. 

He glances around at his surroundings. A sort of resignation fills the empty cavities of his chest.

He meets the cliff edge. It seems to greet him like an old friend. It taunts him. A flock of Doves someplace nearby in the hazy evening chitter quietly nearby. There is nothing left for him here. (This was always your fate, мой коля.)

[envihellbender]

Give a song to each of the original killers

The Trapper:

Which Side Are You On? - Dropkick Murphys

Come all you good workers,

Good news to you I'll tell

Of how the good old union

Has come in here to dwell.

The Wraith:

The Summoning - Sleep Token

You've got my body, flesh and bone

The sky above, the Earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

The Hillbilly:

Monkey Wrench - Foo Fighters

I still remember every single word you said

And all the shit that somehow came along with it

Still, there's one thing that comforts me

Since I was always caged and now I'm free

The Nurse:

Organ Donor - Jeremy Messersmith

Swing low

Grey bones

I don't know

If I'll ever be whole again

The Hag:

whatthehellishappening? - Glass Animals

Hold fire, hold fire

I got second thoughts as I realise

I'm so alive, I'm so alive

I love this so much that I could cry

The Doctor:

The Torture Doctor - Alkaline Trio

Hey, ho, we know how this story goes

Hey, ho, the plot it thickens and grows

Hey, ho, there's nothing left to hide

Hey, ho, down here on the south side

The Huntress:

Baba Yaga - Charming Disaster

Lives behind a fence of skulls

There's still room for just one more

Served by disembodied hands

Mistress of the borderlands

The Clown:

Theme for a Jackal - Misfits

Die sweet prince

Meat tastes like mince

The jackal's eaten enough for today

The Spirit:

November - Hitorie

もう一回と思ったのだ

I thought I would give it one more try

何処へ行くあても無いのだけど

I have no idea where I’m going but

泣きたくて笑ったのだ

I wanted to cry so I smiled

なぜかいつも笑えたんだ

Somehow I was always able to smile

The Legion:

The Hand That Feeds - Nine Inch Nails

Just how deep do you believe?

Will you bite the hand that feeds?

Will you chew until it bleeds?

Can you get up off your knees?

The Plague:

Incident in a Medical Clinic - Rasputina

An antidote's been elusive

The specialist can't deduce if this isn't curable

Now a disease defines me

My fever intensifies, see, I get delusional

The Oni:

The Iiid Empire - Dir En Grey

(Translation)

Brainwash makes us sing a sorrowful song.

People in waves, they sing along.

For the country to prosper.

For the country to prosper.

It’s the country’s song

The Deathslinger:

Sons of Destruction - Native Howl

God damn your sins, now let yourself be free

Live your life in the land of opportunity

If daddy were here, he'd be proud to know

When the vultures came 'round, that I didn't eat no crow

The Blight:

Blood and Thunder - Mastodon

I think that someone is trying to kill me

Infecting my blood and destroying my mind

No man of the flesh could ever stop me

The fight for this fish is a fight to the death

The Twins:

Stranded - Gojira

A growing sickness in the heart

Defective, lack of control

The cure is somewhere in the silence

But I'm crushed by the noise inside

The Trickster:

LOOKATME - Jann

Look at me, look at me, look at me

Tell me that you don't like what you see

Look at me, look at me, look at me

Tell me that you don't like

I want it all

I've changed my mind I wanna rock

That Vivienne Westwood

Gucci, Prada and Dior

The Artist:

MANY HANDS - Lingua Ignota

In unforgiving night God came

Plainly spoke my given name

Upon your pale, pale body I will put many hands

(Sinner, you better get ready)

And rough, rough fingers for every hole you have

The Dredge:

The Angry River - The Hat feat Father John Misty

The emptiness that we confess

In the dimmest hour of day

In the common town they make a sound

Like the low sad moan of prey

The Knight:

Empty Walls - Serj Tankian

Don't you see their bodies burning?

Desolate and full of yearning

Dying of anticipation

Choking from intoxication

The Skull Merchant:

We Appreciate Power - Grimes

Simulation, give me something good

God's creation, so misunderstood

Pray to the divinity, the keeper of the key

One day everyone will believe

The Singularity:

V.A.N. - Bad Omens feat Poppy

I am in your algorithm learning all your mannerisms

I'm already level with God

A million words a second, and I know your imperfections

Baby, I'm the only future you've got

The Unknown:

Open the Door (That’s Not My Neighbor Song) - LongestSoloEver

Take another face and make it mine

Making a replacement of your kind

I'm another feature creature next in line (don't look behind you)

Oh, you saw right through me, didn't you?

Your senses are screaming, "This isn't a human!"

Well, I'm getting better and sooner or later, you'll open the door

BONUS-

The Ghost Face:

Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode

Feeling unknown

And you're all alone

Flesh and bone

By the telephone

Lift up the receiver

I'll make you a believer

[whumping-valentine]

@augusnippets Day One: Brainwashing

I was originally planning on making these generic, nameless, whumpee/whumper things, but I thought it would be more fun to use my different characters. This was… MUCH harder than I thought it would be. Between picking the character and not trying to spoil something that actually happens in my series, it's a challenge in and of itself, nevermind the 31-day prompts! This was hard to plan out, I hope you like them, and I hope you'll like this glance into my broader book universe AKA my entire life lol

I've been procrastinating all day, but here it is! I feel like most people have these all ready in advance, but I'm writing these one day at a time just like god intended. Alright, enough yapping.

Content: (Implied) brainwashing and propaganda, fantasy racism.

Characters used: Misty (angel) and Jackson (demon)

These are pretty much exclusively for myself, but if you enjoy them that's cool, too! I just wanna challenge myself with writing my different characters every day.

Also sorry if the writing is bad, I wrote this in 20 minutes at 11 PM, lol. I'm jus' goin' with it, man.

~~~

"Do you have to bother me?" Jackson exasperated. "Do you not have anything better to do with your time?"

Misty straightened herself, "Do I have to bother you?" She scoffed, "Is that what you think this is? Am I a mild annoyance to you?"

"You are, yeah. Now, your mother, that's someone I would take seriously. But you're just a little girl who's been fed so much propaganda that she thinks what she's doing isn't crazy."

"Little girl?" She took offence, "We're the same age! Don't- don't you dare condescend me!"

"If me being slightly rude to you is the worst thing that's ever happened in your privileged life then you're doing pretty good." Misty was about to reply, but Jackson continued, "I'm sure Heaven isn't all it's cut out to be, really. There are so many different dimensions and planets in our world, what makes you think yours is the sole paradise? All of that brainwashing propaganda they feed you? That they feed the humans while they're still on Earth? Does it make you happy to stomp on creatures who don't have the same privilege you do? Does it make you proud, Princess?"

"No, see this is what you demons do. You lie, you trick, you steal, all for your own gain. You don't care about humans, don't act like you do. As Princess of Angels it is my job to keep them safe. Me, my family, and all of the other higher angels stress by the day. I am not the highest authority, I will admit. I would never place myself to the same level as the Virtues, Thrones, or Seraphim. I am merely an Archangel who looks after humans."

"That's a whole lot of yapping to say fucking nothing. Really though, you should consider yourself lucky. You have an entire team of angels to help you. You know what my job as Prince entails? Making sure that all of Hell doesn't literally fucking escape! Do you think we ALL want this shit? You think we're all evil just because our magic is different than yours? Because we look different? Because we live somewhere you deem unholy?"

"You're lying."

"Is that your only retort? That we lie? Because the only people that I see lying are angels."

"Angels would never lie, that's a sin."

"Well then your people are the biggest sinners I know." He said, "And, honestly, Misty... If you really want to do good in this world, you should look out for all of your souls. It just so happens some are suffering in Hell."

"Why should I care about them? They made their choice while they were on Earth."

"And what about all of the non-humans who were sent there as a form of punishment?"

Misty rolled her eyes, "That doesn't happen!"

"Really? It doesn't? How would you know, did your family tell you that, too? Look, one of us here is the demon prince who has seen this stuff first hand, and the other is a sheltered angel princess who's rarely left the safety of paradise. I bet you don't even know what happens in Hell. I bet they tell you it's all fun and games down there, don't they?"

"Of course not, Hell is supposed to be a punishment."

"Then what kind of punishments are happening in Hell?"

Misty was silent.

Jackson spoke darkly, "Do you want me to tell you?"

●●●

●●●

This wasn't very whumpy but hey, I still followed the prompt! I think it's quite fun to take a prompt and spin it a bunch. It makes things more creative and diverse. The whump is more so implied in this one.

Also I don't think this is technically canon to my series because I'm not sure when this conversation takes place. It would have to be while they're really young because Misty has always been more of a rebel teen, but the dialogue isn't exactly childish. Oh well, it's fun to write random stuff without worrying about actual canon to its fullest. This is slightly out-of-character for the both of them but not enough that it's weird.

Also it is like almost midnight that's how much I've procrastinated lol. Good night

[prelovednikaidou]

avenged:: geto suguru

a/n: been in my drafts for so long. this will have another 2 parts.

part two :: part three

"My little songbird, for I, to believe in Gods - when I have been handed nothing but misery, I shall never bowed my head to such foolish hopes.

I began to collect my wealth, I began to build a legacy upon my name, I began to become something, I became proud.

But was it really proud or arrogance? Because why did all the benevolence that fall onto my lap couldn't even be weighted to edge of your hair?

Gods are punishing me, my dear.

For me to become arrogant, I forgot that I couldn't clip your wings.

For you, the kind little songbird,

it was only right for you to return to your nest.

It was only right for you to be in the Heavens, while a dirty sinner like me to be stranded here. But how much suffering do I have to endure for me to meet you again?

My dear,

I burned the lantern in your name. I watched it float across the water and went away, swept by the river bits by bits. I wished that I could burn the remnants of your memories inside me. But why was it that I realized- I was drenched from my chest to my toes as I hugged the lantern tight?

Then I figured;

I couldn't bear to part with you again. I couldn't bear to leave you even if it's just the paint of your name. "

[evermourning]

𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 - lee minho (from the vault)

pairing: lee minho x reader (bewitched series part nine, from the vault)

genre: angst but not really, hurt/no comfort, non!idol au, university!au, unrequited love

wc: 1k

warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), mentioms of alcohol, lowkey fwb!minho, language, slightly religious terminology, yn is very self-deprecating, min is lowkey a dick??, kinda depressing if you ask me

a/n: this was the original idea for minho, but my best friend ults him and really wanted smth fluffy...therefore anything for my bae 😔 but i really loved it and after i scrapped the idea it was like on my mind for quite a bit so we're tayloring this and releasing as a vault fic!! enjoy <3

cracks of moonlight shone through the curtained windows of the small apartment. the idea of it was serene, soft music coming from somewhere you couldn't fathom.

you'd have to sneak back downstairs to the party, full of drunk people dancing and doing things they'd regret in the foreseeable future. god, your friends would kill you for fucking a guy the night before an exam.

all of it was worth it though, if you were in bed with lee minho.

and yet, your feelings were hardly discernible.

lips painted a deep magenta from red wine pressed against each other with nothing but lustful intentions, the sound of skin against skin as two souls merged.

it was unbearable.

when the night ended, he lay in the bed's soft sheets beside you, fingertips barely grazing each other. you wanted to curl up next to him, make yourself comfortable, stay intertwined for as many times as the earth would orbit its golden companion.

"min," you mumbled. "are you awake?"

he nodded, rolling over to face you. "make it quick, yn. i'm really tired."

"do you think we'll ever be more than fuck-buddies?" you didn't want the question to slip off your tongue, but you knew he was most vulnerable at night.

"want me to be honest? not really. you know we're both in it for the sex, anyways. plus, i've got a bad temper and you're so sweet. we'd be a horrid couple." he replied bluntly. "now actually sleep, please. if you don't want to, the door's on your side." and then he rolled back over, his breathing becoming steady as he dozed off. not even realizing the toll his words had on you.

you let your head sink into the pillow, mirroring your sinking heart as your eyelids fluttered shut. a single tear crept from the corner of your eye, sliding down your cheek. as if it was some unthinkable crystalline fragment, you delicately wiped it off your face, keeping it in your hand.

this is better than nothing, your brain murmured softly. why are your eyes misty? be grateful he's asleep beside you.

you'd do what you always did. push out the insensitive words, let his sweet nothings replay in your head until you were numb. allowing yourself to let him have you for the night, morosely wiping away every drop of ink that fell from your quill as you signed a deal with the devil.

you fucking sinner.

when you awoke the next morning, you were alone. as always, minho left before the sun's early awakening, stuffing your hopes and dreams into his bag and leaving with them.

this time, you swore. swore that you'd never be entangled in his web again. swore that you should never waste your time and energy for someone who didn't love you like you loved them. swore that this would end.

but...it didn't.

lee minho continued to haunt your life, mind, soul, and dreams, withering away at you until you were a husk.

...

"i can't believe you got an a after that hangover, holy shit." hyunjin said as you sat on the sofa beside him. "i guess you really did prove me wrong when it came to you winging shit like that."

you giggled, swatting his shoulder slightly. you were honestly focusing more on what your peripheral vision was seeing than your best friend. minho lived in this house. what if he was here right now?

"i'm going to go use the bathroom, see you in a bit." you said quickly, hyunjin nodding as he pulled out his phone. as you slipped into the bathroom, you left the door cracked, and looked into the mirror. what was it about you, you thought, scrutinizing every miniscule detail of your anatomy, that turned minho away? what compelled him to leave you, to run away from your touch?

it was like he only craved it temporarily, for his own pleasure.

as you stared at yourself, the door slowly swung open to reveal the man of your darkest nightmares and loveliest dreams standing, looking at you in a way you knew all too well.

"is that rose-scented perfume?" minho asked, slowly coming closer. you nodded hesitantly, turning to face him. his gaze was intoxicating. dark, brooding men had always been the death of you.

but you made a promise. you swore.

"it is. do you have a problem with it?" when he remained silent, his lips pressed together to form a tight line, you briskly walked past him. "if you have nothing to say, i'm going back down to hyunjin."

before you could move, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to his chest. your heart started rapidly pounding as he kissed you passionately.

"shut the fuck up and let me kiss you." he hissed, before going right back into it. and goddamn it, you had no complaints.

you let his lips slip down to your neck and collarbone. they moved swiftly, knowing exactly where your sensitive spot was.

you let him pull you into his bedroom, dimming the lights as he pushed you down. you let him cover your mouth with one hand, so that hyunjin would be completely oblivious to what you had been doing.

but you broke a promise.

you swore as his hands roamed across your bare skin, enjoying every scrap of his affection you could receive, like a pitiful, malnourished dog. every sound that left his swollen lips was a mournful hymn that your starving cochlea relished.

you loved lee minho like you loved the blue sky and soft wind of august. but in the most tragic of ironies, he wasn't yours to love in the first place.

he wasn't yours to lose, either.

so you allowed yourself to relinquish your spirit to him. one day, your ghost would melancholically travel this world searching for his soul in the afterlife, and he would spurn you there too.

being haunted by a man like him was simply sickening.

and yet, you craved it.

@evermourning ©2023, all rights reserved.

taglist:

[s1nfu7h0r53f7y]

Since it’s been almost a week that the remaster of Soul Reaver 1 & 2 has been out (giving newer players a chance to be introduced to it), I think I can bring up a little crossover idea I’d been mulling over:

I can’t help but think if they met, Lucifer and Janos might actually become friends. The original Vampires were somewhat akin to fallen angels after the blood curse. Janos did succumb to performing horrid acts “for the greater good”, much like the exorcists and at least Sera in the Hellaverse. That being said, much like Hellaverse Lucifer, even though he committed bad acts with significant weight, you can tell he isn’t evil, just a good soul that did bad things while trying to do something they thought was good. Maybe Lucifer could get through to Janos about how broken the whole religious order he serves is. Maybe Janos can help Lulu realize his own worth despite his actions, or have his own fatherly nature give Lulu sense of comfort and safety, as despite the latter likely being significantly older he very much is a hurting child at his core.

At minimum, they likely can find comfort and solidarity in each other from being cast out and hated. I wonder if Janos’ views on humanity would have any effect on Lucifer’s already shifting views on sinners. Oh, God, imagine if Lulu actually got Janos to laugh. He likely hasn’t done so in literal millennia. I can just picture him laughing heartily and genuinely, tears forming in his eyes. When he finally regains his composure, he turns to Lucifer with a misty smile, rests a hand on his shoulder, and tells him he finally understands why he is known as “Light Bearer”. The validation would make Lulu a sobbing mess.

Bottom line: they are both fallen winged ethereal entities old as dirt that despite committing significantly wrongful acts are not bad people, and while they need to answer for said wrongs they also deserve better

[britany1997]

Bands the modern Lost Boys would listen to

(Feel free to add your own Lost Boys music headcanons!)

David:

•Father John Misty- FJM writes music for male manipulators and people with religious trauma, of which I believe David is both. His favorite album is Fear Fun because it’s more centered on chaos and atheism, as opposed to FJM’s later albums which are more about love and himself. His favorite song is Fun Times In Babylon because it’s a song about good times in the Biblical archetype of an evil, hedonistic city and that sounds like a fun time to him. He also enjoys listening to You Can Do It Without Me, and God’s Favorite Customer because they feed his god complex. He loves that FJM sings quite a bit about smoking, sex, and death, all things David is totally down with.

•Radiohead- Also music for male manipulators. His favorite songs are Burn the Witch (ironically since the song is about a society plagued by paranoia, but in David’s case it’s not paranoia, he actually IS a supernatural evil creature), Karma Police (because everyone who messes with them WILL get what’s coming to them) and Paranoid Android. One time a guy on the boardwalk said to him, “oh you like Radiohead? Have you heard Creep?” And David ate him almost immediately.

Dwayne:

•Hozier- I just think Dwayne likes woodsy deep voice folk rock guys so he’d vibe with Hozier. Also I think he cares about female pleasure more than any of the other boys and so does Hozier. His favorite album is Hozier’s self-titled album and his favorite songs on the album are Work song, because of the promise of devotion and love from beyond the grave, Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene, because of the juxtaposition in the song between the pure and the cruel, and Arsonist’s Lullaby, specifically because of the lines “Don’t you ever tame your demons / But always keep them on a leach.” Unlike his chaotic brothers, Dwayne is a bit more calculating in his debauchery, like the main character of that song. He also enjoys NFWMB and Shrike and is eagerly awaiting Hozier’s new album.

•The War on Drugs- Listening to them almost makes Dwayne feel nostalgic for the 80s as The War on Drugs are the self-proclaimed rock n roll synthesists of the century (reminds him of the pre-Michael days🥲). His favorite album is A Deeper Understanding and his favorite song on the album is Pain, a song about losing a struggle against the darker side inside a person.

•Lord Huron- More woodsy folk rock. He’s a romantic at heart so he loves She Lit a Fire, Fool for Love, Ends of the Earth, and The Night we Met. His favorite song by Lord Huron is Meet Me in the Woods, especially the lines at the end: “Follow me into the endless night / I can bring your fears to life / Show me yours and I’ll show you mine / Meet me in the woods tonight.” There’s a strong possibility he’s quoted those lyrics to a meal

Paul:

•Greta Van Fleet- They’re like a modernized Led Zeppelin, they make him nostalgic. AND they’re four guys with cool jackets in a band together!!! Paul’s like, ‘guys they’re us:)’ He loves how the band’s albums flow and tell epic stories about worlds plagued by war, destruction, and waiting for peace. His favorite album is the Battle at Garden’s Gate, he likes the instrumentals better on that one and he thinks the vocals are more raw and throaty. His favorite song on that album is Stardust Chords, especially for the lines “Even sinners go to drink the wine / Break the bread” reminding him that even as an evil being, he’s still able to indulge in life and community. He also loves Highway Tune, a song about falling with a beautiful girl while driving on the highway (literally him on his motorcycle every night)

•Lady Gaga- Paul loves the Glam pop-rock of early Lady Gaga, he loves how revolutionary her music is for it’s time, and he appreciates her loud and unique style as well. Also, I HC that Paul is bi (he loves people and not genders, he just like me) and listening and dancing to Lady Gaga let’s him express and celebrate his sexuality! He sees no reason to hide who he is. He loves Poker Face, Born this Way and Monster

•I also think he listens to female rappers and R&B artists who are open with their sexuality and sexual pleasure like Janelle Monáe, FKA Twigs, Doja Cat, SZA, and Nicki Minaj he’s all for the sexual liberation of women in the modern era. Especially Janelle Monáe though for her songs about sexual expression and gender identity. Janelle has described herself as “a free ass motherfucker” and Paul vibes with that energy. He loves Americans, a song about subverting traditional American values in favor of loving people for who they are, I Like That, a song about sexuality and self-acceptance, and Make Me Feel, a song celebrating bisexuality. He also enjoys Django Jane, Pynk and Tightrope.

Marko:

•ALL pop-punk, all of it. But especially Fall Out Boy- He’s not a huge fan of MANIA but he loves the other albums, especially the older stuff. His favorite album is Save Rock And Roll the instrumentals of the songs on that album are his favorite AND Elton John and Courtney Love are featured on the album and he loves them both. His favorite song on the album is Death Valley. He likes their older stuff as well like Sugar We’re Goin Down (he doesn’t care that people think it’s overplayed, it’s a banger) Of All the Gin Joints In The World, Fame < Infamy, and Immortals (for obvious reasons)

•Tally Hall- He’s like, a band that writes songs about existential chaos? Sign him the fuck up. He loves Ruler of Everything, he finds it sort of ironic because the song is about the frivolity of life and inevitability of death, yet for him, death is not inevitable. He also loves Cannibal (obviously) it’s a metaphor for the singer, it is NOT a metaphor for him >:) and Turn the Lights Off, especially the lines “Everybody wants to get evil tonight / But all good devils masquerade under the light.” Marko has the face of an Angel, but is usually depicted as the most brutal of the boys, he literally is a devil that masquerades under the light.

Bonus: All the boys listen to the Killers, for their grunge rock music (their favorite songs are On Top, Glamorous Indie Rock and Roll, and The Man), Muse for their anti-government rock (Their favorites are Uprising, Supermassive Black Hole, and Resistance) and Thrice for the woodsy rock (Their favorite songs are Black Honey, Blood on Blood, and Beyond the Pines). And of course, they listen to all the same bands they listened to in the 80s as well: Mötley Crüe, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Van Halen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Metallica, etc…

[mistystarshine]

Hey Misty It occurred to me that in Live Again noone has brought up how Lute's damnation is irrefutable evidence that angels can go to Hell upon death. I mean, the idea that a heavenborn angel can become a sinner for doing what Heaven ordered them to is a strong point against the exterminations. Even if Heaven will likely write just Lute off as an exception. Obviously Adam and Lute aren't in a position to know, but is it currently being discussed by anyone? Hell or Heaven-side?

It was discussed! Unfortunately, between the damage that the hotel did to Heaven, certain voices pushing hard for a crackdown, and the simple fact that Adam wasn't there to fight on Lute's behalf, it got shut down quickly. So what if angels can go to Hell? If they put Hell back in its place, it won't be a problem. Lute was probably just defective anyway.