#raine writes

[rainecreatesstuff]

So I Wrote Loser, Baby - Reprise, and This Is How It Turned Out

ANGEL DUST:

So things look bad,

And your back’s against the wall

HUSK:

(Spoken) Angel, don’t.

ANGEL DUST:

Your whole existence feels like bullshit

HUSK:

(Spoken) This ain’t gonna help!

ANGEL DUST:

Ya feelin’ filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall,

Look ‘round and see,

That’s the least of it.

ANGEL DUST:

You’ve lost your way,

Ya feel like givin’ in,

Then throw it all right in the bin!

HUSK:

(Spoken) Quit while you’re ahead, kid.

ANGEL DUST:

You’re,

A,

Loser, baby,

We’re losers, goddamn baby,

We’re both,

Fucked up little asshole pricks,

You’re a loser just like me!

We’re both screws-loose boozers,

Two missin’-all-of-our-cues-ers,

Join this power bottom at rock bottom!

Come be my company.

HUSK:

(Spoken) Fuck my life.

ANGEL DUST:

There was a time I thought that no one could relate,

To the fucked up ways in which I’m broken,

But a wise guy told me shit like this can set you straight!

Gotta let your whole self breathe and let some hope in.

-music fades out, ANGEL DUST breathes heavily-

ANGEL DUST:

(Spoken) C’mon, humour me, Whiskers.

-HUSK sighs loudly, music slowly fades back in-

HUSK:

My whole life’s bein’ wrecked,

By a psychopathic freak.

ANGEL DUST:

Hah! A life with no shit ain’t complete!

ANGEL DUST

(Spoken) Sing with me Husky.

BOTH:

We’re both losers, baby,

We’re losers, it’s okay to be a-

HUSK:

Washed-up, old gamblin’ dick?

ANGEL DUST:

Ya know that’s fine by me.

BOTH:

We’re both losers, honey,

Short-fusers, yeah, two dummies,

But at least we know we’re not alone.

You’re a loser,

Just,

Like,

Me.

[nyaskitten]

CHAPTER 1 OF MY NEW FIC IS OFFICIALLY UP! What started off as just me jotting down a silly oneshot in a Tumblr draft has quickly become my favorite idea, EVER! PLEASE go check it out and give me your feedback, I'd LOVE to hear it!

[villainsally]

What if Centross was sad and gay about it? (Totally canon)

He was slipping in and out of sleep, technically he didn't need to sleep but it was nice, to process everything, to rest. And he kept having the same dream, drinking and laughing at, no, with someone. The only odd thing being, he can't remember their face. He remembers their laugh, the fact that they can't hold their alcohol, and that they're his friend. His best friend. Maybe more? He cares for them but can't remember their name, their face, anything about them. 

He keeps trying to get back to the dream to remember. He'll remember this time, right? He has to remember eventually, right? They were important, he can't forget them forever. With all the knowledge he has to sift through, it may take a while. But he has all the time in the world. He can't die. But they might. 

What if he lost them already? What if they're gone and he can't remember. What if he never remembers and they fade to oblivion? What if he's the only link they had?

As he thinks, the dream changes. He's preening wings, the face of the avian just escaping him. He should remember! 

They laugh, asking him what's on his mind. He knows they said that, but he still can't hear their voice. 

"Nothing, [    ]"

He called them something. He'd said it but it slipped from his mind as quickly as it had from his lips. Violet shook off the odd feelings and focused in on just running his fingers through their feathers. They were bent and broken as if they hadn't been taken care of in months. 

"[         ] not taking care of your wings, [      ]?"

They laughed, the sound sending warmth to his chest and a smile to his face. 

"not all of us can have bony wings, 'tross" they murmur

Its his turn to laugh this time, "true, but you can call me over and ill do this anytime, [   ]" 

He kept running his fingers through their wings, the vibrant yellows and purples sending a pang of nostalgia and melancholy through his chest. They're so close to him. Their head is starting to droop as they seem to be falling asleep to him preening their wings.

"sleepy, songbird?"

"mm, no"

"alright" he says with a faint chuckle. Their head just droops more. "lets move to the nest, love"

"fine"

He picks them up to bring to their nest. He knows where to go as if hes done this a million times. As if carrying them to their, both of their, nest was the most natural thing in the world. They curl into his chest, slotting against him like he feels they have so many times before. He lays with them in their nest until he feels them relax fully in his arms. He kisses their head, murmuring into their hair.

"I'm sorry I forgot"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

teehee!! This is a rough version but any feedback is welcome and appreciated!

@sage-is-in-fact-very-tired

[dawgri]

Hey Nemopen Nation, I'm currently writing a slow burn for the two disasters so if you are interested and like them I think you should mayhaps check it out, the useless lesbians are hyperfixation bonding.

[boringsideeffect]

[un-beel-ievable]

match-up exchange with @bvnnybrains !!

Hi hi! Thank you so much for participating in a match-up exchange with me —I hope that you enjoy your match-up! I can't wait to see who you choose to pair me with! ♡

Your match-up is under the cut!

✧ ═══ ･ ｡ﾟ★: .✦ . :★. ═══ ✧

I'm pairing you up with Lucifer!

You're tiny, something that startles Lucifer when you initially materialize in the Devildom. He attempts to remain aloof about your presence in the beginning, but a part of him worries about how your small stature might fair when surrounded by demons that tower heads and shoulders above you. Many demons were cruel —or at the very least, unkind— by nature, and your status as a Human Exchange Student caused you to stand out in a crowd as it was. Your tiny frame only stood to make you even more of a target. It wouldn't do if you were struggling to get by from day to day because of it. It would reflect badly on his image. At least, that's what he tells himself when he begins going out of his way to keep an eye on you —in spite of the fact that he'd already assigned Mammon to be your keeper. After a few weeks of trailing after you in secret both on and off campus, he comes to realize that you are hardier than you looked. You were tiny, certainly, but he'd been too quick to discount your ability to fend for yourself in spite of your size. You carry yourself with pride and strength, and your unwillingness to lie down and allow others to belittle you is something he can respect. Between that and your determination to constantly learn and better yourself, his worries about how you'll manage in the Devildom have been allayed; he's confident that you'll adapt and overcome, and that you'll do just fine.

Having a large family is something that Lucifer that relate to. After all, he has one of his own. Your devotion to your siblings —so similar to his own feelings toward his younger brothers— is something he adores, and he finds your relationship with your youngest sister particularly endearing. It reminds him of the special bond that he once had with Lilith. As you grow closer to him over time, he finds himself growing protective over your siblings himself —despite having never met them himself. Whenever you return to the Human World to pay them a visit, you always end up having to manage a second luggage that isn't your own; courtesy of Lucifer, it's packed with souvenirs from the Devildom. He hand-picked each one for your siblings, based on the information you've offered up to him on their interests. With his busy schedule, it's hard-pressed for him to take the time off to become acquainted with your siblings in person. From time to time, however, he'll join you at your siblings' sports games through the means of a video call —assuming that you're willing to indulge him by holding up your phone the entire time. He won't take it personally should a day come where you have to put your siblings' needs first; he's the same —family comes first. (This doesn't mean that you're any less important to him. When you became his partner, you became a member of his family.)

Teaches you how to get along with Cerberus when he discovers that you're accustomed to big dogs (Cerberus is...a little larger than your average dog, but still). Cerberus has never taken kindly to individuals who aren't Lucifer, but —perhaps due to Lucifer's blatant favoritism toward you— he seems to like you.

Lucifer learns to love your odder choices in conversation topics. It takes him a while to make heads or tails of what you're trying to convey (What exactly do you mean when you ask him if he'd still love you if you were a worm? Did his brothers put you up to this? It sounds suspiciously akin to the pranks that they'd coerce you to play on him), but the more time he spends with you, the more your nonsensical changes in topic grow on him. He may roll his eyes from time to time, but he finds the earnest manner in which you choose to direct your questions at him rather amusing, and even endearing. And yes: he would still love you if you were a worm. He can't make any promises for if he were to become a worm out of the blue, but should he have a say in the matter, he'd choose to love you again and again —regardless of the form he's in.

Makes an effort to make time for you; between having to deal with his brothers' shenanigans and his duties as a member of the Student Council, Lucifer is an eternally busy demon. Despite this, he makes a conscious effort to set aside time for you and you alone —even if it's only an hour a day. He usually achieves this by waking early in the mornings (something he usually does anyway, whenever he's not pulling an all-nighter) to bring you breakfast in bed. Alternatively, he blocks out an hour in the evenings; the two of you can often be found occupying the library or his private quarters, chatting about your respective days and whatever other topics may be on your minds. On days when he's too busy to do even that, he extends an invitation for you to visit his room regardless and simply be present with him while he works. You're welcome to make yourself at home on the seat beside him, or even seat yourself in his lap as he attends to his work. Just your presence alone is enough to relax him; every so often, he'll lean over to press a kiss to your forehead.

[mournfulroses]

Ernest Hemingway, from his novel titled "A Farewell To Arms," originally publ. in 1929

[castielsprostate]

having talented friends is so wild!!!!!! like. YOU!!!!!!!!!! YOU made THAT. YOU DID THAT?!?!?!?! YOU created!!!! THAT!!!!!!!!!!! WOAH!!!!!! praise!!!!!!!! praise for one thousand years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bbyseok]

thinking about teen gojo who’s still learning how to control his powers… and just starts floating every time you kiss him.

you just started dating after he won your heart some time around your first year as jujutsu high students, and there’s not really a difference from when you were friends compared to when you’re now together but—

there are the closer cuddles during movie nights and the spotanenous hangouts now established as dates amongst other things, and of course, the kisses.

funnily enough, it was you who intiated the first kiss, even after his oh so bold and confident claims that he’d be the best boyfriend and kisser, despite never having been in a relationship before.

some might consider that your first kiss with gojo wasn’t so special, but it’s special to you.

it had been a convenience store run he had dragged you out on during the ungodly am hours. satoru rummaging for his newly bought sweets in the grocery bag, his tongue poking out of his mouth. his expression had lit up when he pulled out his candy, eyes flitting to yours and then-

you leaned in to press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips.

his snowy eyelashes fluttered in shock, staring at you like you had just strung up the stars in the current night sky overhead. the dim light from the convenience store casts a glow over your facial features, and it takes him a moment to realize that the curvature of your lips had just been on his. that you had kissed him.

and then he started floating.

you couldn't help but laugh and pull him back down and in for yet another kiss.

and it keeps happening every time you kiss him now. it doesn’t matter what he was doing before, as soon as your lips leave his, his feet leave the floor too — quite literally.

you’d think that he’s doing it on purpose, but he swears that he isn’t! it’s not his fault that his technique goes haywire whenever you bless him with a kiss!

it’s to the point where you’ve decided not question it now, and even the others don’t too.

“suguru and i are going off for our mission!” and suguru watches his best friend lean down expectantly towards you, tapping his lips with a finger, “can i have a good luck kiss, sweetheart?”

and you oblige sweetly with a hum, “have fun, you two. be safe!”

suguru’s hand is already outstretched to tug satoru down to the earth by his jacket once he starts drifting upwards. “c’mon, satoru.”

hell, he’s been half-asleep, still drowsy as you give him a kiss while leaving his dorm early in the morning before you’re caught by yaga, and gojo starts hovering off the mattress like an exorcism is taking place, the thin blanket slipping off his legs.

(“i guess you can say that you really sweep me off my fee- ow!”)

and while it’s ridiculous, you also find that it’s rather endearing.

but god forbid you start making out with him though. you’re not quite sure on what might happen whenever that comes around..

[voldkat]

tailwag tailwag tailwag tailwag

it was supposed to be only spearmaster but i got too carried away with it HEJHSJS

join my emoji / hangout discord server :3

[rainecreatesstuff]

AS A HUGE FAN OF BOTH FITPAC+HADESTOWN UR AU IS MAKING ME FEEL <3 NORMAL <3333 who would be orpheus / who'd be euridyce?

okokokokok hear me out here

fit as eurydice, disillusioned with the world and taught to always have your own back, take things as they are, if something’s too good to be true then it’s not.

pac as orpheus, bright-eyed and determined, sees the world for what it could be and wants to make that real.

You know how the song goes.

Fit falling in love with Pac in the spring, things are warm and good and food comes easy. Watching his son play carelessly and laugh and sing. Listening to Pac’s visions of the future and hearing his song, and believing in him full heartedly. They wed in summer, laughter and wine falling from their lips during their first kiss as husbands.

Summer leaves early and faster than ever. Pac focuses harder on writing his song. Ramón is starting to complain about the hunger. It’s cold. Fit loves Pac more than anything. He can handle the hunger, he can handle the cold, he can handle being alone. He can’t handle his baby boy going hungry.

He leaves one day to buy, to find, to steal some food, some firewood, anything to keep his boy warm. He gets caught in a storm. Death approaches him and offers to keep him and Ramón safe and warm and fed. If it had been just him, maybe… but Death’s voice is deep and warm, and the coal mine calls with promises of heat, and the canary follows.

You know how the song goes.

A lot can happen behind closed doors. Fit is not naive. He is hungry. He is cold, and he is lonely. But he is not naive. He signs his life away. Ramón, his baby, is safe. Has no stake to his name.

Pac descends from his office, and the fire is out. Blankets lay on the couch untouched, no coats hang from the coatrack. There is a lonely pair of shoes at the door.

He searches and searches and yells and screams for his husband and filho. The Traveller finally comes to him when he has screamed his throat raw. Rattlesnakes are meant to hibernate during winter. Regardless, he sees his love with the twin wounds left by fangs.

He asks to join them. The Traveller offers a different route. He takes it. He plays his song, he plays it loudly and clearly and with his lyrics he calls to his amô and his filho. He calls to Death and Spring and he cries his sorrows to them. His pain brings Spring to tears and his regret brings Death to movement.

Ramón runs to him the moment they see each other. They cry and hug and Pac will never let his boy go again.

Fit, his love, his muse, is held back by the chains of Death. Pac pleads again with Death. Fit crumbles and cries. Pac twitches as he tries to reach out but can’t.

Death loosens his grip on the chains and Fit collapses into Pac. There is a moment of pure relief and joy and clarity. Fit and Pac are together with their boy between them again. They make each other promises, fix the ones they made as their vows, and begin to rebuild what fell apart so fast the first time. It is warm and safe and it is love.

The moment is short-lived. Death’s voice calls out. The canary flinches towards it.

You know how the song goes.

Ramón is allowed to hold his hand as he leads them out. There is no claim on his life. He never should have been there in the first place.

Fit is not so lucky.

They are steps away. The cold breeze hits Pac’s face from the end of their ascent.

You know how the song ends.

[nyaskitten]

Here's an unfinished LMK fic wip lol

[mischievous-thunder]

Character profile:

Such a feisty pretty thing

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Have you seen my little lad?

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[boringsideeffect]

It’s July 4th. The Fourth of July.

You’re Kavinsky, goddammit.

Are you coming? Are you coming to Fourth? I left you a car. Are you coming?…You’re coming, right?

You’re out there. Waiting. Drinking. Lighting shit on fire. Waiting. Looking towards the road every ten seconds. Drinking some more. Checking your fucking phone. Waiting. Your favourite creation keeps shooting you worried glances. He knows. You know he knows. You know he’s right to be worried. About you. About himself. Isn’t that the same thing, anyway?

And he comes. For a split second, the tiniest, most inconsequential fragment of time the world rights itself and you can breathe because you see him climbing out of the car and he’s here and that’s all that matters.

The fuse attached to your heart catches fire. Your whole being alight.

He’s furious.

He’s here.

Then the world remembers it’s a shitty fucking place and you crumble to embers to cinders to ash, because he’s not alone, of course he’s not alone and it stings even more than it always does because this is your turf and your party and you know that you’ve crossed a line this time but you’ve reached a new height of desperation and a new low of sense of self-worth.

He’s here and he’s with him and you can’t decide who you hate more at that moment, if him, or him, or maybe yourself.

And still, because somewhere deep, deep inside you lives the heart of a dreamer (and what is the heart of a dreamer if not the heart of a fool), you cling to the last sliver of hope, maybe because it’s the only thing keeping you alive.

He’s here.

He follows you into the dream.

You’re both there. Nothing else. Just you two. The world rights itself.

And then it explodes.

It was never gonna me you and me, K.

Even if he’s never loved him. Even if he’s always just been his fucking dog and nothing more. You can’t believe him. You do.

The world explodes.