#ye was at his peak of afterlife

[ghostbsuter]

The Zone is down.

It is a horrible truth, the destruction of home was inevitable and that doesn't lessen the pure hurt he feels during the final moments.

Every life, every death, the memories of many. All seal in a sphere of a fallen sky, in the soft palms of their king.

Their boy king leaves, bringing along his people, infinite in number and all sleeping, none the wiser.

It will take time to re-create their home, nothing impossible, however. The sphere in his hands, pulsing with life and humming with power, the child and successor of the Infinite Realms.

Many lives are lost, many are ended and every single one will remembered.

So when he takes refuge in a strange dimension, he receives care in their base in space, a room and slowly opens up.

It's only then that he allows himself to grief.

[buckiverse]

☆ warnings: mdni, this is literally just a cock analysis for sylus, zayne, and caleb

☆ a/n: SYLUS HOLD MY HAND—CALEB IS ABOUT TO DRAG ME AWAY!

rafayel and xavier ver.

S8GSBTV - #b0685a

As we all know, Sylus is tall, with a broad, muscular frame and an imposing set of shoulders. He’s strong—insanely strong. The man boxes, for god’s sake. I would hate to take a liver shot from him; he might accidentally send me straight to the afterlife. He’s in phenomenal shape, with stamina to match—because, of course, it’s a requirement for his sport.

And his cock? Well, it follows suit. A solid eight inches (20.32 cm), and yes, he’s a shower. I mean, have you seen that perfect print in his pants??? He doesn’t even know where to put all that. It’s big—long, thick, girthy. No wonder he has a size kink. And let’s be real, so do you. The stretch is delicious, always leaving you working to take him all the way.

The head? A deep, rich brown (go look at the hex code <3). His pubic hair? Trimmed, but left a little longer—just how he likes it. And side note? He loves when you do the same. Says he wants to "explore the jungle." Oh, and let’s not forget: it’s straight and a slightly darker gray than his hair. Perfection.

And the veins—the veins. His cock is thick with them, pulsing, prominent. The most sensitive part? That sweet little slit. Run your tongue along it, and he will hiss, grip your hair, and growl something like, “Don’t do that unless you want me to come in your mouth, kitten.”

And, of course, you’ll keep doing it anyway. Hehehe.

Z7LSLCGBPLT - #9C524F

As we all know, Zayne is tall, with a lean yet well-built frame and broad shoulders. He’s strong—moderately muscular—but more refined in his strength. Being a doctor, he has a natural responsibility to stay in shape and take excellent care of himself.

And his cock? It follows suit. A solid seven point three inches (18.542 cm), and he’s a grower. The print in his pants might be deceiving at first, but don’t be fooled—it’s big. Not just long, but with an ideal girth. The best part? It leans slightly to the left, and when he’s inside you, he knows how to move his hips just right, angling to hit that perfect, sensitive spot.

The head? A beautiful brownish pink. His pubic hair? Trimmed low—because he understands the importance of keeping some. He’ll never go completely bare, and honestly? He prefers when you don’t either. And yes, it’s perfectly straight.

Unlike some, his cock isn’t overly veined—but what it lacks in texture, it more than makes up for in sensitivity. The head? Insanely responsive. Pull back his foreskin, drag your tongue along his frenulum, and just like that, he might lose control—maybe even come all over your face.

C7GGPTV - #DF9796

As we all know, Caleb is tall, with a lean yet powerfully built frame. He’s easily the most muscular of the bunch—his body honed to perfection. Being a fighter pilot demands peak physical fitness, not just for endurance but for absolute control in the cockpit.

And his cock? It follows suit. A solid seven inches (17.78 cm), and he’s a grower. The print in his pants might not always give it away, but trust—it’s big. Long, with just a bit more girth than average, making every inch of it something to savor.

The head? A gorgeous pink. His pubic hair? Trimmed low for convenience, though he’ll go completely bare if that’s what you prefer. Naturally, though, he keeps it neat, with a slight, loose curl to it.

And let’s talk about that vein. A single, prominent one that runs up the length of his pretty shaft—one he loves when you trace with your tongue. Oh, and let’s be clear—he’s uncut. Don’t care, won’t argue on that point <33

☆

btw this is what the codes mean (excuse my behavior because now that I actually typed it out i realize how crazy i look rn):

S8GSBTV: sylus-8inch-girthy-shower-brown-trimed-veiny

Z7LSLCGBPLT: zayne-7inch-left slant-long cock-grower-brownish pink-light trim

C7GGPTV: caleb-7inch-grithy-grower-pink-trimed-veiny

[drgnflyteabox]

red ochre [4]

series masterlist previous || part four -> orchil || part five -> kermes

> summary: double-edged swords, field trips, and wolf figurines > tags/warnings: religious & sexual guilt / shame, stockholm syndrome, inner turmoil, suicidal thoughts (minor), violent thoughts, oral (f), dubcon/noncon, stockholm syndrome, reader says "stop" / "no" but johnny continues, reader has some puritanical ideas about sex (virtue, virginity) but shes a nun so give her a break, power imbalance, thoughts of death/afterlife, self hatred, "little" used affectionately not as a size indicator lol

You wake up to the sound of a childs’ babbles the next morning, disoriented and confused - had sister Margery taken in another orphan girl to raise up in the convent? The softness of the bed beneath you betrays your confusion, rocking you slowly into reality as you blearily open your eyes.

Johnny sits at the table, cooing to a baby on his knee. He bounces them as they make sounds, soft happy ones that contrast with his muscles and scars and hair. In your observation of him you think about how a man so coarse-looking could be so soft to lay against, how he could go from sweet to firmer than stone in a moment. How his hands held you down not two days past, and soothed the skin that still ached as you shifted in bed now.

A conflicted series of emotions had risen in you since, and though something had calmed inside you, the primary tide was a pervasive sense of shame and it tended to overpower everything else.

“Who's that?” Johnny says, his voice high-pitched. “Is that my wife?”

He's cooing to the child, but still you burn and twist with too many things to dwell on lest you go mad.

Simon is nowhere to be found, but that's not been unusual in these winter mornings.

“Who's this?” You murmur, sitting up. Your woolen shift is warm, a soft red colour dyed by one of the village women that Johnny told you he'd traded for specially. Red ochre, he’d said, fingering the cloth. A beautiful muted red kind of colour.

A little like dried blood.

“Gaz's bairn,” Johnny says. “His house is gettin’ invaded by some rowdy boys, and the lasses’ are at the river.” 

He must see the confusion on your face, because he adds, “boys are gettin’ ready for a hunting party.”

The baby shrieks, clapping clumsily as Johnny lifts a carved wooden toy up to them. He crinkles his eyes, looking between you and the baby. You want to discourage whatever thoughts he's having, so you stand and move to the fire, away from his wandering blues.

“Should I make something?” You don't dare look at him.

“So sweet of ye,” Johnny hums. “The baby eats eggs.”

You nod.

As you steadily become more awake, thoughts begin to cloud your mind.

Guilt is strange; it spreads like a plague, tainting anything you've decided to take some control of. Cooking, chores, talking cautiously with the men or allowing your heart to soften. The poison has grown from your first peak, spreading outward from your core and into your mind, leaving you worse off.

Simon hadn't done anything else, nor had Johnny. You'd cooked them lunch and breakfast, asked for sewing equipment for mending and receiving it promptly after. From Gaz's woman, Johnny had said. She says hello. Any contact outside of Johnny or Simon hadn't once crossed your mind, especially not since having sat on Simon's lap at the feast like a prize.

But you were a prize, a stolen woman, taken to wife. However you spun the narrative it was hard to get past that fact and harder still to get past that it might fulfill something inside you that nothing else could or could've. That perhaps you were tainted, and the taking had been because they saw it in you somehow. Sniffed the false servant of God as you worked, not anything by coincidence but guided by some instinct that told them you were just as bad.

Your little book, the one you missed dearly, the one piece of physical evidence that damned you. 

Though God had never spoken to you back, you'd imagined in the convent that when you passed he'd simply show you the blasphemous, lustful evidence of your filthy mind and send you to burn.

Now you knew that He wouldn't have to do that. You'd simply burn without any chance, damned worse now by your treacherous cunt.

“-nun? Where's my little nun gone?” You turn, startled. The eggs are crisp, and darkening by the second.

You hurry to pull them out of the hot fat as Johnny watches you, still cooing and bouncing. 

“Sorry,” you slide him a nearly burnt egg. “Can the baby still eat them?”

 “Should be fine,” he tears the egg with his fingers, offering tiny pieces.

It's hard, but not too tough or burnt. Just browned, fried and crispy. You wonder if this could count as a sin, how nearly wasting food would weigh against coming on the fingers of a viking heathen.

The hopelessness gets you sometimes, gets you as you try to sleep and in moments like these. What option do you have? Adapt, or what? Sure, it's probably better to take advantage of their lack of extreme violence and make your predicament as best as possible, especially without an escape route and without the strength to fight them. 

You feel watched, judged, observed on all sides. Giving in and navigating how to be a viking wife might be better than resisting forever, but the unseen eye of divine judgement and its gaze rests heavily on you. In fact, it's like it seeps into you through your skin and connects with the shame to compound both feelings.

“There she goes again,” Johnny says, but you hear him this time.

“I'm here,” you say. The baby smacks their lips, enjoying the egg despite its texture.

“No ye aren't,” his blue eyes are piercing, cutting through the fog of unease. “Ye getting all worked up again? I better not catch ye out back again.”

You shake your head, though he's right to think that way. Cleansing yourself has been on the back of your mind, not only the holy kind but what they can bring you with a different kind of force. 

There's the sprout of desire that's grown bigger and bigger, as if some dry seed had always resided inside you and they had watered it back to life.

“I'm not,” you finally say, though too much time has passed and it's clear Johnny doesn't believe you.

The door opens and you're saved by the interruption. A new anxiety forms as multiple people enter, curling suddenly like a hook. Simon, Gaz, Gaz's wife and Price step in.

“Tyra,” Gaz says. “Where's my little Tyra?”

The baby shrieks again, reaching her hands out. You see the resemblance to both Gaz and her mother now, seeing them up close again. She claps for Gaz, her mother behind him and smiling at you gently.

“How are ye, Kari?” 

“I'm well, thank you,” Kari says. She's always so soft, so glowy every time you see her. No wonder Gaz has scooped her up, you think you'd have also planted a baby in her belly if you were both able and a viking. Such thoughts sometimes arrested you at random in the convent, admiring the other women and dismissing them as silly. 

You try not to put more weight into them now, as it doesn't serve your predicament. 

But still, you admire Kari. 

“And you?” her eyes soften.

“Well,” you parrot. There’s no way to explain how unwell you really are - or how your well-ness is causing that unwellness. It's confusing enough for you.

“She's settling in,” Simon says. He's trading looks like Price, whose beard is becoming a little overgrown.

Gaz takes Tyra, who babbles happily. For a moment it's like this place isn't all evil and temptation, but also love and care. It's easy to get lost in the image of Gaz and Kari making kissy faces to Tyra, who is unknowing of the world and happy to be in it.

They don't linger long. There are words exchanged that you don't pay attention to, hands clapped and Tyra kissed goodbye. You learn that she's nearly two, still a baby but getting bigger. Price teases the couple about their next as they leave, making Kari laugh a hearty laugh that fills you with warmth.

It evaporates a little when you're left with Simon and Johnny and silence, the atmosphere changing to something unfamiliar. This boundary you'd crossed with them has left you someplace awkward, with you mostly lost in your head.

Simon is good at getting you out of that space, but he's been gone often since the incident and Johnny's intensity tends to push you further inward.

He comes up behind you, now, and sets his heavy hands on your shoulders.

“She been like this all day?” He asks Johnny, who hums affirmatively.

Simon leans down, lips brushing the top of your head, hands squeezing your shoulders, before he pulls you backwards into his torso.

“Your god speaking to ya?” He asks. 

“No,” you say honestly. “He's silent.”

“Silent, eh?” There's a chuckle, then two. They're heathens, you remind yourself. Heathens.

“Lamb, why don't ye spend some time with the wee lady Tyra?” Johnny scoots forward on the bench, touches your knee, smiles.

“Might do you some good,” Simon agrees. “‘specially since we're goin’ on a hunt.”

You pause.

“A hunt?”

Johnny nods. 

“I'll be stayin’ behind,” he says. “Watch our little nun.”

Simon finally sits behind you, hands sliding from your shoulders to the softness of your upper arms, still squeezing.

“It's past time,” Simon says quietly behind you. He explains the yearly hunt, the walrus in the right location, the ivory they will sell and the oil they will gain for use. There's a whisper of something there, maybe longing, maybe not. You can't tell, not with his aloofness. He's closed off as a default, but he rubs your arms like he's comforting you and you decide to take it as such.

There's nothing left for you to say, so you just nod. You're still trying to resist taking on an intimate role, a wifely role, something that will make them think you've given up. You haven't yet, you might not. You have options, even if they're unpleasant or permanent. 

A shiver passes through you. That isn't what you want. You're stuck, but you have to rationalize: it isn't what you thought it would be.

You've felt good. You feel good now. The remaining pain comes from the twisting, growing shame that slowly turns in a circle and ensnares your insides.

That, and the taking. It still feels unfair, feels wrong. If you think on it too hard you start to feel like a thing, not a person.

Johnny seems regretful that night, a mix of pride and love for Simon warring with his need to stay home with you. He sleeps in the middle, leaving you near the wall and opting to join hands with Simon through the night. These moments humanize them to you as well – to your distress, and to your softening. 

They love each other in the way you've seen some of the villagers love each other, in the way that love is universal; it's a little different, because they're different, but it's tender nonetheless. 

Love is luck, you think. Luck enough to find someone to be tender with in a world that is hard to live in, that is so utilitarian, so survival dependent. 

Simon leaves the next morning with a group of hunters. Price leads the pack of them, slapping the backs of some of the younger ones who for them it'll be their first or second winter hunt, encouraging them. It's a mixed group with both men and women, younger and older, seasoned and green. 

You stand beside Johnny at the door, watching the group move through the village until they are gone. Johnny tells you that they’ll ride horses, but they’re further out. Lest we smell the horse shite, he laughs. Got enough on our plate with Si. The joke has a thread of longing in it.

You’ve never been truly alone with either of them, you realize. Sure, a few hours here and there, but never for the days that Simon plans to be gone. Never slept alone with either of them.

Simon has been somewhat of a buffer, even if he’s the one who initiated the incident and carried it out. He balances the infinite well of restlessness Johnny has.

It’s frightening and comforting all at once. For one, you don’t feel like a bug pinned by its wings, even if that means you’re even more anchor-less than before. Simon is solid despite his surliness, and without him to steady the dynamic you worry.

“Ah dinnae know what to make,” Johnny bemoans. He wants to prepare some kind of gift as a surprise. “Already got too many statues.”

“Statues?” you ask, tilting your head towards him.

“Aye,” he nods, moving to a far corner of the house. He produces a little leather pouch, then little carved wooden figurines. One of them is a wolf, the other a bird.

“You made this?” you take one delicately in your hand, as if it would break. Statues, he said. They’re cute, clearly having been made with care.

Turning the wolf in your hand, you admire the polished shine of the wood.

“Aye,” he says again. “Si’s got too many.”

He spends a portion of the day puttering about, stoking the fire, sharpening various tools. You can’t tell if he’s restless because Simon is gone, or if you hadn’t noticed his restless nature as much because Simon was his outlet.

An urge rises in you, that screaming urge you know more intimately than anything else, awakened and restless like a hungry beast – it stirs as Johnny stokes the fire, crouched and with his back to you.

The only way to go if not out is in and you won’t. Push him in, you think. If you want out, push him in. 

But you won't. There’s darkness at the core of you to be sure, but not that kind of darkness. Not the kind both he and Simon are steeped in. Violence, sadism maybe.

That would make you the other side of the coin. 

The same swirling pattern of thoughts plague you even as Johnny serves you fish and more turnip for dinner, even as he pulls you into bed for that night and wraps himself around you.

You want to kick. To scream. To have a fit. Some insane, perverse fit; something that would have earned you an exorcism or an execution in the village. These thoughts come unbidden to you as you try not to feel the grasp of Johnny’s hand to your waist, nor the scruff of his beard on your throat. 

Your identity has shifted, already. You aren't dead inside, not anymore. Not hoping for some outer force to take you away.

An outer force has taken you, and now you wrestle with the ramifications on your spirit.

It's unclean now, surely. But hadn't it always been?

Hadn't you willed this?

Happy faces appear in your mind. Kari. Tyra. Gaz. Price. Johnny. Simon is too hard to read, but the way he treats Johnny is enough to convey some kind of contentment.

And then the look at breakfast. The baby. Johnny’s gentle cooing, his attention. Simon’s hands squeezing you, reassuring you.

They contribute to the degradation of your spirit, to each rend of the glue that has held you together since first consciousness.

You try to hold onto the fear from before. Their words from before – behave and we won’t kill you. Does that still apply? Are you still under an ever present, looming threat? Were they only trying to get you moving? 

Some part of you shudders to realize that it doesn’t feel that way. Even when they had sprung it on you to marry you, you hadn’t felt the same mortal fear as when they had absconded with you. 

No, it had been hurt. Disappointment. The fear had shifted with your identity, staying present but becoming unfamiliar.

The you that they had taken was unfamiliar too. She’d have never built snowmen, nor ground her pussy into the hand of a viking and relaxed into another’s hold as you are now.

You wanted to live, you think. Even then.

A couple days pass. Johnny finally finds a suitable enough gift for Simon, a double edged blade he’s carving and sharpening.

The sight of it makes something tighten in your chest, so you avoid looking at it.

Between you both, it’s less awkward than you worried about. You come to a different understanding of him, one that comes from watching his independence without Simon. They truly do fit together, you think. Complement each other.

What about you? Are you here for them to have other options? A cunt, you think crudely. Something that gets wet without extra effort, something easy. You’ve certainly not made it hard. The thought puts you in another stink, frowning down at the pair of linen summer pants you’d found and started to mend.

“What’s this face ye got on?” Johnny steps up to you, setting the heavy blade on the table, and sitting.

You don’t speak, you just sew. Are you just a womb? Is that it?

“Awe, lamb,” he leans forward, hands finding the tops of your thighs and leaning on them. “So sour.”

When you still don’t respond, he reaches to take your sewing. You lose some bearing and prick him with the needle, frissy that he’s trying to take you out of your ruminations.

Provocative.

“Och,” he waves his hand, then laughs. “Prickly, are we?”

He forces the fabric from your hands, squeezing your hand until it opens with the needle and thread. You make some kind of irritated sound, like a growling cat, still half in reality and half in your mind.

“Ye’ve been stuck,” he pokes your forehead. “Stuck here, eh? Let me fix that.”

And then you’re pulled up to your feet, steered to the bed, and pushed before you can adapt.

“Simon’ll have’tae forgive me,” he murmurs. You’re sat on the edge, looking down at him with a frown.

“What-” you make a strange, caught off guard squeaking sound as he pushes you by the shoulders, lifting the edge of your dress.

“Sh,” he says sharply. “Should’a done this days ago.”

“Wait- don’t-” you slam your knees shut, trying to sit back up. Something sharp you can’t name explodes outwards from your chest, sharp spikes pricking your lungs and your heart, twisting.

Your struggle is mostly futile, though it’s easier that Simon isn’t here. Your arms flail, your legs scoot you away up the bed.

“Noo-” you try again. Your fear stems mostly from the uncertainty of what he’ll do, of the fear that he’ll steal the last true thing you have; your virtue. 

“Relax,” he strong-arms you into lying down, arms crossed at your chest and his huge hand keeping them pushed down.

He positions himself parallel to you, replacing his hand with his bigger knee, his face right where he wants it.

“Ye should’ve asked me, lamb,” he murmurs, then kisses the hair above your pussy. Your stomach tightens, breath coming out in strained gasps from the combined weight of his knee and your shame.

You’re wet.

“I won’t smack ye if I don’t have tae,” he says. His hands rub up your hips, then your thighs, before coming up to your pussy and spreading your lips open.

Your clit strains in the open air, a cool breeze from the gaps in the door making it jump. He watches for a moment, cruelly, listening to the sound of your laboured breathing.

Then he dives in, tongue first. Because of the angle, his tongue dips down towards your hole while his lower lip catches your clit, making you gasp.

“Let me,” he hums, pauses. “Let me take care of ye, lamb.”

And God, he does. Johnny licks over you like a starved man, sucking your labia before flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit again as sounds come out of you like someone is pounding a fist into your chest.

He slurps your wetness obscenely, using his fingers to scoop whatever leaks from your hole as best he can and bringing them to his mouth to suck clean. He murmurs fervently about how good you taste, how he can smell the desperation from you.

“So neglected,” he sucks the wetness from your hair, even. “Forgive me.”

He’s talking to your cunt again, leaving you trembling against the bed and tightening, tightening, rising, rising–

He stops. 

You damn near scream, but the sound gets trapped where he’s still putting his weight on you.

“I’m gonnae move, and yer gonnae stay right there all sweet for me, aren’t ye?” he turns to look at you, and though you can hardly see him you nod.

He lifts off, making you grunt involuntarily, then switches positions so he’s on his hands and knees nearly on top of you.

“Open those legs,” he says. Leans down to kiss your sternum over the fabric of your dress. “Let me ease yer mind.”

You can feel yourself falling further from grace, but God help you – you open your legs.

Johnny keeps eye contact as he slides down, getting on his stomach with those piercing blue eyes cutting through you.

When his mouth touches your cunt again, you feel yourself start to shake, growing more insane by the second. His tongue touches your hot, swollen flesh, dragging wetly against everything sensitive. He’s like an animal, you think. A heathen. No wonder these people have not seen God’s light. No wonder it does not reach here.

Something so sinful, so good, couldn’t possibly exist in the puritanical world you’d been taken from.

God, you think again, body twisting against the sheets, is this really what they kept from us?

“Please,” you cry out. Please stop? Please continue? It’s a plea for more than just Johnny, more than God. It’s a question that burrows deep in your mind and begs you to understand yourself, to untangle, to feel and release.

And oh, you’re breathing, breathing in, breathing in perhaps for the first time in your life. You wrench his hair in your fists, uncaring, screaming into the cold winter afternoon without a care. Your back arches, tilting your cunt further into his face, legs straining, gushing. Blood rushes in your ears, deafening you, once again turning the world into a small point where you can neither hear nor see.

All you can do is feel, ride, undulate. This is that fit you’d wanted earlier, it’s some insane hysteria, some sin that feels like ecstasy. 

Your nipples tighten, stimulated by the chill of the air and the scratch of your woolen dress. Your peak is maddening, drawn-out and pushed further by Johnny’s lips suctioned around your clit and sucking in hard.

The moment you truly finish, when the stimulation turns to discomfort, you release his hair and push at his head.

“Stop,” you gasp. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t. His hands find your thighs, holding you open, running his tongue from your clit and then piercing it into your hole. His nose rubs on you, and though tears spill from your eyes you grind into it, crying for him to end it.

“One more,” he grunts.

“No,” you moan. Then you peak again, mouth open in a silent scream and eyes screwing shut, the fusion of sharp, near-painful pleasure and actual, overstimulated pain brings you a climax you could have never imagined of on your own.

You weep again as he pulls away, feeling raw and tender. 

Boneless.

You wake in the middle of the night bundled and in both furs and arms. You’re pleasantly sore, pulsing a little still between your legs where Johnny’s thigh keeps you company. He’s so warm, so comfortable, that it’s easy for you to fall back asleep.

You wake again in the early morning, so early that the light of dawn hasn't yet breached the cabin.

Johnny snuffles behind you. Nose on your shoulder, hands migrating to rest just below your breasts.

“Mmmlamb,” he murmurs.

Your muscles are heavy, still. Weighed down with relaxation. It's true that you had gotten worked up, and that his actions had helped. You don't find any shame, not now. You've found a rare pocket of respite.

Simon is due back in a day or two unless there are extenuating circumstances. A winter storm, maybe. Or an errant predator. 

What would life look like if he never returned? It’s an uncomfortable thought. You’re still on the edge of how you feel, teetering between extremes, but you rely on them both for survival.

Where could you go? Even when you’d ran, the plan had been borne of heart, not mind. Without Simon or Johnny, you’d be in a terrible precarious situation.

Without Simon permanently? You weren’t sure.

You very slowly extricate yourself from Johnny’s arms, sliding out of bed and into the cold air. The fire is just coals, so you add a few pieces of wood and stoke it for the day. In the dark, you can see the reflection of the fire in the sword Johnny had left on the table.

You pad to it, staring, curious and afraid. It looked orange from the fire, only darker. It looked like your beautiful red ochre dress, your blood dress.

You reach your fingers out and stroke along the blade, breathing shallowly in the dark.

Dawn breaks.

[themoonweaversden]

All 179-244 (or so) codes that were found so far (no spoilers)

Note: As far as I'm aware if you input any word after selling your soul to Bill and press the knob you'll get the same result. I still think it's important to highlight the ones that didn't have any result once you imput them normally the day the website updated (AUDIOLOG, BUBBLES, CLEAR, CONTRACT, SMALL) these may have been just an error since it has been fixed since then

#

3466554

29121239168518

333 Sundapple Lane Cozy Creek IL 60714-94611

A

ABUELITA

ADASTRAPERASPERA

ALEX HIRSCH / ALEX / HIRSCH

AM I BLANCHIN

ANSWER

AXOLOTL

B

BAAAA

BABY / BABY BILL / LALALALALA / MOMMY / DADDY

BILL / BILL CIPHER / CIPHER / ILLB / LLIB REHPIC / REHPIC

BLACK SHEEP

BLANCHIN / BLANCHING / BLANCH

BLENDIN

BLIND EYE

BOOBERRY

BURN SIDE

BURNED INSIDE

BYE GOLD

C

CAESAR ATBASH VIGENERE / MULTILEVELMARK

CARD

CARYN

CIPHERTOLOGY

CLONE / TYRONE / PAPER JAM

CONSPIRACY

CRAY CRAY

CRYPTOGRAM CODEX

CURSE WITTEBANE

CURSED

D

DEATH

DEER TEETH

DESTRUCTION IS A FORM OF CREATION

DIONARAP

DIPPER

DIPPY FRESH

DISCO GIRL / BABBA

DISNEY / MICKEYMOUSE

DISPENSE MY TREAT

DIVORCE / BREAKUP

DORITO / NACHO / CHIP

DUCHESS APPROVES / THE DUCHESS APPROVES

DUCKTECTIVE

E

EASTER EGG

EMMALINE BUTTERNUBBINS

EUCLID / SCALENE / SCRIMBLES

EUCLYDIA

EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES

F

FAMILY MATTERS

FBI / CIA / NSA

FILBRICK

FIXINIT1

FORD / SIXER / STANFORD

FORDTRAMARINE

FORGET THE PAST

FUCK / SHIT / BITCH / SLUT / SEX

FUCK YOU ALEX

G

GIDEON

GIFFANY

GLASS SHARD BEACH

GLOBNAR

GOD / HELP ME / SAVE ME / FRILLIAM

GOODNIGHT SALLY

GRAVITY FALLS

GREBLEY HEMBERDRECK

GUN / THE GUN

H

HAROLDS RAMBLINGS

HECTORING

HEY NERD

HISTORY

HOLOGRAM

HORROR / CREEPYPASTA / ANALOG HORROR

HOTXOLOTL

HOW WILL I DIE / WHEN WILL I DIE

I

IM STILL ON YOUR MIND

IRREGULAR

IS HELL REAL

IS THERE AN AFTERLIFE

J

JOURNAL 1

JOURNAL 2

JOURNAL 3

JUST BLEND IN

JUST FIT IN

K

KINGS OF NEW JERSEY

KOOK

KUBRICK

L

L IS REAL 2401

LIAR LYRE

LIES

LIFE

LOVE / BOYFRIEND / LONELY

LOVE YA BRO

M

MABEL

MASON

MATH / GREECE / SHAPES / GREEK / PLATO / GEOMETRY

MCGUCKET / FIDDLEFORD / OLD MAN MCGUCKET

MEOW / MEOW WOW

MONSTER

MORALITY

MOUNTAIN DONT

MYSTERY

MYSTERY SHACK

N

NAITSUAF

NO

NOT A PHASE

NOTHING

O

OCCURREMUS ITERUM

OH YES THEY BOTH

ONE EYED KING

OROBOROUS

OWL TROWEL

P

PACIFICA

PAPER IS BOOK SKIN

PEAK

PINATA

PINES

PLATINUM PAZ

PORTAL

Q

QUESTION

R

R34LITY

RAT

REALITY

RIDDLE

ROBBIE

RUBBERHOSE

S

SCARY / SPOOKEMUPS / SPOOKY

SCIENTOLOGY

SEASON 1 / SEASON -1

SEASON 2

SEASON 3

SEVEN EYES

SEVERAL TIMES

SHAVE YOUR GRANDMA

SKELETON

SKIBIDI / FORTNITE / ELON / CRYPTO / DOGE / GYATT / RIZZ

SOMETHING

SOOS

SORRY

STAN / STANLEY PINES / STAN PINES / STANLEY

STOD EHT TCENNOC

SUCK IT MERLIN

T

TAD STRANGE

TANTRUM

THE BOOK OF BILL / BOOK OF BILL

THE DUCHESS APPROVES

THEORY / MATPAT

THERAPRISM

THEYLL SEE / THEYLL ALL SEE / I SEE

TINSEL SNAKE

TITANS BLOOD

TJECKLEBURG

TOBY DETERMINED

TORTURE MENTALLY

TOURIST TRAP

TRIANGLE

TRIGONOMETRY

U

UNIONMADE

UNIVERSE

UNREALITY

V

VALLIS CINERIS

VIRUS

W

WADDLES

WEIRD

WEIRDMAGEDDON

WELL WELL WELLBEING

WENDY

WHICH RELIGION IS RIGHT

WHO ARE YOU

X

XGQRTHX

XYLER / CRAZ

Y

YES

YOU CANT KILL AN IDEA

YOURE INSANE

Will update if more are found

[wolsalwastaken]

So, as you do, I was on the new version of thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com and I’ve figured out every. Single. Secret. Code. I. Could.

Now with the help of the community, I am expanding this list! Please post passwords in the comments sections or reblog if I have not yet mentioned them! You will, of course, receive credit for your discoveries! Nerds unite! At the very bottom, you will find a full list of citations I used for the passwords. Any password that is un-cited is one I found myself :)

Spoilers for this version of the website, but I’m mainly posting this as I know it’ll be gone soon. Keep reading at your own discretion, as these are spoilers if you wanted to solve it yourself.

This post will continually be updated as I find new codes and ciphers to solve and new passwords, stay tuned as this is a masterpost of this iteration of the website!

So, here’s all the places to click on screen for Easter eggs:

And here’s a list of all the different passcodes I’ve found to work on the computer. If multiple words are listed it’s because they activate the same thing. Brackets are not part of the pswd. (c) means that the person I learnt it from is listed below. If there is no (c), then I found it.

Cipher

Triangle (click 3 times)

Bill/Bill Cipher

Stanford/Ford/Sixer

Fiddleford/McGucket

Filbrick

Mason

Dipper (click 5 times)

Mabel (click 12 times)

Wendy

Robbie

Gideon (2 possible results)

The Book Of Bill

Alex Hirsch/Hirsch

Monster

Mystery Shack

TJ Eckleburg

Hey nerd

Divorce/breakup

Theraprism

Soos

Disney/mickey mouse/disneyland (c)

Hectoring

Axolotl

Stanley/Stan (click 8 times)

Gravity Falls

Pines

Geometry/algebra/math/greek/greece/trigonometry/shape (c)

Conspiracy

God/help me/frlliam (c)

Triangle

Ducktective

Waddles

Morality

Portal

Love/boyfriend

(Literally any word of profanity, i.e sex or fuck)/Ted Cruz (c)

Death

Dorito/chip/nacho (c)

Skeleton

Life

Weird

Reality

The universe

Baby/baby bill/lalalalala/mommy/daddy (c)

Rat

Urban legends/horror/creepypasta (c)

Blind eye

Crypto/NFT/gyatt/skibidi/fortnite/Elon/rizz (c)

Journal 3

Journal 2

Journal 1

Theory/that’s just a/matpat (c)

Question

Answer

Piñata

FBI/NSA

Blendin Blandin

Abuelita

Weirdmageddon

Toby Determined

History

Sorry

Cursed

They’ll see/they’ll all see/I see

Cryptogram codex

Curse wittebane

Fordtramarine

Disco girl

Ad astra per aspera

Forget the past

Torture mentally

Hotxolotl

Scrimbles

Lies

Paper is book skin

Euclid

Dionarap (c)

Booberry (c)

Unreality (c)

Vallis cineris (c)

Caryn

Euclydia (c)

Scalene (c)

Even his lies are lies (c)

Stodehttcennoc (c)

Emmalinebutternubbins (c)

Dispense my treat

Just fit in (c)

Nothing

Something

Ciphertology (click 2 times)

Well well well being (c) (click 4 times)

One eyed king (c)

Titans blood (c)

Blanchin (c)

Suck it merlin (c)

Tantrum (c)

You can’t kill an idea (c)

Kook (c)

Naitsuaf (c)

Oroborous (c)

Giffany (click 6 times)

Who are you (c)

R34lity

Fixinit1

Love ya bro (c)

Tad strange (c)

Liar lyre (c)

Xgqrthx (c)

Peak (c)

Platinum peak (c)

Glass shard beach (c)

Cray cray (c)

Deer teeth (c)

Season 1 (c)

Season 2 (c)

Season 3 (c)

Gun (c)

Irregular (c)

Seven eyes (c)

Xyler/Craz (c)

Yes (c)

Justblendin (c)

Black sheep (c)

Baaaa (c)

Union made (c)

29121239168518 (c)

Grebley hemberdreck (c)

3466554 (c)

Tinsel snake (c)

333 sun dapple lane cozy creek IL 60714-94611 (c)

Mountain don't (c)

Riddle (c)

Burnside (c)

No (c)

Llib (c)

When will I die (c) (click once a day)

Clone/paper jam/Tyrone (c)

Multilevel Mark (c)

Goodnight Sally (c)

Tourist trap (c)

The duchess approves (c)

Scientology (c)

Meow (c)

Shave your grandma (c)

Burned inside (c)

Sevral times (c)

Easter egg (c)

Oh yes they both (c)

Kings of new jersey (c)

Destruction is a form of creation (c)

Fuck you Alex/fuck Alex (c)

Rubberhose (c)

Am I blanchin (c)

Card (c)

Bye gold (c)

Globnar (c)

Kubrick (c)

Not a phase (c)

Virus (c)

Spookemups (c)

You're insane (c)

Owl trowl (c)

L is real 2401 (c)

Occurremus iterum (c)

Family matters (c)

Harold’s ramblings (c)

Is hell real (c)

Is there an afterlife (c)

Dippy Fresh (c)

Justblendin (c)

Here’s a link to the entire 15 minute video of me going over all the Easter eggs and codes, so if you don’t wanna bother doing it (fair) then here ya go! Had to post via Instagram because no other social media lets me post long videos, oh well. (As I find more codes, I may make a part 2 video of me solving those on video)

Link here (part 1)

Credits/sources:

@sage-nebula (Dionarap, vallis cineris)

@dottyistired (Booberry, unreality)

@vlada-elya (Ted Cruz)

@cloudofcaffeine (Euclydia, Scalene)

@putadapower (Even his lies are lies, oroborous)

@dippers101 (Stodehttcennoc, emmalinebutternubbins)

@ren-is-real (Just fit in)

@hopefully-maybe-abby (I see)

@towacletruck (Well well well being, one eyed king, titans blood, blanchin, suck it merlin, tantrum, you can’t kill an idea, kook)

@cskv11 (Naitsuaf)

@eazy-peazy54 (Breakup, gyatt, who are you, r34lity, fixinit1, love ya bro, tad strange, liar lyre, xgqrthx, giffany, peak, platinum pas, glass shard beach, cray cray, help me, deer teeth, lalalalala, season 1, season 2, season 3, Mickey Mouse, gun, irregular, horror, creepy pasta, seven eyes, yes, trigonometry, xyler, craz, justblendin, black sheep, baaaa, skibidi, Fortnite, union made, 29121239168518, grebley hemberdreck, 3466554, tinsel snake, 333 sun dapple lane cozy creek IL 60714-94611, mountain don't, burnside, riddle, no, llib, when will I die, Elon, clone, multilevel mark, goodnight sally, paper jam, tyrone, tourist trap, the duchess approves, shape, meow, scientology, shave your grandma, nacho, rizz, daddy, mommy, burned inside, sevral times, easter egg, oh yes they both, kings of new jersey, destruction is a form of creation, rubber hose, card, am I blanchin, fuck you Alex, fuck Alex, fuck you, bye gold, nsa, globnar, Disneyland, Kubrick, not a phase, virus, spookemups, that's just a, you're insane, owl trowel, L is real 2401, occurremus iterum, frilliam, family matters, Matpat, Harold’s ramblings)

@delusionalpaper (Is hell real, is there an afterlife)

@thisisnotawebsitedotcom-com (Dippy fresh)

@/soldofficialyt on YouTube, Justblendin

HUGE shoutout to @eazy-peazy54 for providing so many codes! Seriously, thank you so much for your amazing post compiling them!

[heavensanjis]

hear ye, this wretched sailor’s wish

pairing: eustass kidd x f!reader

warnings: none, slightly suggestive at the end

word count: 1.8k words

a/n: fluff and very little dialogue, the 1st half is set on the night of the banquet after the wano battle & the 2nd half is set 6 months after wano! hope you like it

div cr - @/v6que

eustass kidd was a man of many vices - prone to anger, competitive to a fault, loud, explosive and a foul mouthed sailor.

he never cared for his vices, what? like no one else has one or two of those. what he wouldn’t do is come clean about them or his feelings.

grumbling, kicking rocks kidd returns to the shore where victoria was anchored. luffy had become the new emperor of the sea, something beyond wanting to take him down gnawed at him, something he kept waving off but eventually caught up to him faster than he could run.

“gee someone seems a little down in spirits” you snicker, looking back at eustass from where you were sitting, facing the waves.

kidd looked up ready to bark a snippy remark, only for his words to lose their footing when he sees your face, illuminated by the full moon, bouncing off the waves and coloring you in a midnight’s blue. a sickeningly sweet desire blooms in his chest as he takes you in, toes buried inside the sand, the soft night breeze brushing against your face, your hair gently swaying to a long lost sailor’s tune.

kidd is rarely ever lost for words, ready to throw a cuss out at the very least but every time he senses your presence he feels like his tongue has been tied into a cherry knot, his usual flirtation around women reduced to old bygone tales.

“wanna join me for a drink cap’n?” you say and he feels harshly brought back to his current reality, embarrassed that he had been gawking at you like a lovesick teenager.

kidd responds in a mix of grunts and low grumbles as he sits next to you and you hand him a mug of liquor. his hand brushes against yours as you hand him the mug and he almost swears at the nauseating warmth spreading from your touch on his fingers. sailors are foul mouthed brutes, pirates even more so, the stench of sweat and blood following them into the afterlife, this wasn’t the time to be distracted or to indulge in a luxury like you.

the banquet was long over and the silence of the once bustling town washed over the two of you. it wasn’t unpleasant being with kidd, while he was loud, he wasn’t chatty or a rambler, but he never turned down a genuine attempt at a conversation.

“so where to next cap’n?” you ask, your head resting on your forearms as you look to your side, your eyes slightly hooded from the buzz but still with your trademark glint that shot arrows that hurt way harder than any hit he has taken in battle.

“i don’t know lassie, our log poses seem fuckin broken but killer says to give it a day or two” he says looking at the sea in front of him, a silent permanent reminder that he will set out from the land of wano one day, you two will go on your separate adventures.

almost as if you could read his thoughts and feel his disappointment, you decide to pull his leg a little.

“it was great seeing big mom kick your ass” a giggle leaving your lips and while the words would’ve normally made kidd’s blood boil, he couldn’t help but also laugh as he saw the utter lack of malice on your face.

“yeah well, ya didn’t seem to be faring any better either bonnie” kidd says with a small smile while his eyes never left yours, indulging in the heat that crawls into his ribs.

the night was overtaken by the flow of your occasional giggles, laughs and conversations until the sun peaked slowly from the horizon, a row of empty bottles in a crate next to the two of you. the scent of the sea and alcohol on your breaths as you two relaxed into a comfortable side hug. kidd’s fingers traced circles on your biceps while softly humming a tune from his hometown, one he’d often say “gots all the lassies runnin’ with their knickers off” the memory making your nose crinkle as you tried to bite back a smile.

it had been months since your crew allied with the heart and kidd pirates and brought down kaido & big mom. kidd was a frequent visitor in your mind on slow days of sailing, you missed him especially when usopp played the ukulele, the tune similar to the one he’d hum, one that usopp said his ma taught him from a far away land.

as your crew docked at an island to restock on supplies, you volunteered to scout for information as each member set off with their respective duties.

you walked through the streets, stalls of flowers and fresh produce lined up, you just knew sanji was going to be giddy like a child at a toy store at the sight. you chuckled, thinking about your crew’s idiosyncrasies, you were all a little odd in different ways but you couldn’t have asked for a more exhilarating adventure as one with them.

your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a gun pressed against your back and you notice two other men staring at you with their hands on their weapons, a silent warning to obey. your interest was piqued, what could these three civilians want from you when you docked here barely 30 minutes ago?

“i’m listening” you say quietly to break the silence.

“glad you’re not making things difficult for us, we just need to ask you a few questions and you’re free to go” the man behind you says, you nod as you mentally calculate how you can get away in case the situation grew beyond your abilities.

the men lead you to an alleyway and you’re caged with no escape as two men block you on either side and you’re faced with the man who held a revolver to your back.

“hurry up with the questions darlin’ i don’t have the habit of meeting strange men in alleyways, hurts the rep ya know” you remark, amused at the situation.

“save the snide y/n, we need information on the whereabouts of nico robin. she’s one of you guys right? we’ll win a sweet ticket to paradise with all that money when we hand her to the navy. now, where is she? where are you hiding her?”

oh so that’s what they wanted, this was a pretty common occurrence since your group grew in name, ruffians and hooligans aiming for robin’s head along with the navy. it deeply upset you and you could only imagine how robin felt living with this.

in one swift movement, you twisted the arm of the man around you and used the momentum to knock him into the other man, two down, one left. you turn around and before you could fight him, you see him charging towards you with a knife, its too late to guard yourself with armament haki. ‘this is it’ you think. you close your eyes to brace for the impact but it never came.

“closing yer eyes during a fight isn’t very smart of you lassie” your eyes shot open to trace the familiar voice to eustass ‘captain’ kidd holding the man up in the air with one arm, the knife long discarded on the floor. before you could reply, kidd threw the man towards the direction you sent the other two with an indifferent look on his face.

you didn’t look away even for a second, his eyes softened meeting yours and a lazy smile rested on his lips. an indescribable feeling surged through you, your heart beat wildly and your tongue felt thick in your mouth. it had been months, but kidd’s presence made it feel like no time had passed at all, ridding away the pangs of yearning that had festered in your heart.

it was all a haze, your feet moved in a quick walk towards kidd, his smile fell as he watched you in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. without warning you crash your lips against his, his hands moved to your waist, reciprocating after the initial surprise. one of kidd’s hands moved to cup your cheek, his teeth slyly grazing your bottom lip, immediately swiping his tongue after, unraveling your need for him slowly, meeting you with passion of his own.

killer’s cough interrupts your quick passionate exchange and the two of you pull away just the slightest bit.

“i’m going ahead to the restaurant, the crew found an inn to stay at tonight” killer said, leaving the two of you in the alleyway alone again.

kidd opened his eyes to look at you and the sight that met him was enough to make the worst sinner repent and change his ways, it was enough for him to consider believing in a god. there has to be one with how beautiful you looked with your hazy eyes filled with desire and your puffy lips parted, ready for the taking.

your grip on his shirt tightens as you curl your head into his chest, inhaling the smell of the sea, booze and a light musky floral scent.

“stop sniffin me ya perv” kidd murmurs into your hair, placing soft kisses to the top of your head.

“i don’t know how many months i’ll have to wait to smell this again, so might as well take my chance” you chuckle, your voice just above a whisper but filled with longing.

kidd lifts your face to look at him, his eyes searching your face for something intently as you look at him in confusion.

“i love ya bonnie….loved you since the first time you had my back on the battlefield, loved you since you told me about your collection of pokemon cards while i got an injection for my wounds..i missed you lassie” kidd whispers, the gap between you two, a fragile space where these vulnerable words of the fearsome eustass captain kidd could exist.

“i love you too kidd, i’ve missed you so much these months, ya don’t even know. you’re all i’ve thought about and that’s not good when you’re fighting for your life!” you giggle at the end “…but i wouldn’t have it any other way, i love you” you stand on your tip toes and place a chaste kiss on his nose and he crinkles his nose in response with a smile that's all teeth.

“oh don’t tempt me lass, we have to make up for lost time and i have a feeling i won’t be able to let you go if you keep this up” kidd looks down at you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

you reach up to kidd’s ears and whisper

“make me yours cap’n”

do not repost pls! likes and reblogs are appreciated. have a nice day/night!

[theamityelf]

(TW: Korekiyo's backstory)

Korekiyo's sister is alive when he first starts at Hope's Peak Academy.

He mentions her often: When he is allowed to ramble for long enough about something he's been studying, he will often say, "Sister will be fascinated," or "Sister will be pleased."

He speaks of her especially frequently around Angie. With Angie, he speaks of his sister with the regularity of a married man preoccupied with fears of having an affair.

Because of this (as well as her own skills at getting people to open up), Angie knows more about Korekiyo's sister than any of their classmates. Enough to be concerned, though her own experiences with misguided devotion to manipulative people keep her from acting on it. She would rather remain a friend for Korekiyo than give him a reason to pull away from the people who care about him.

When Korekiyo's sister dies, he goes to Angie first.

He cries with his head in her lap, and she strokes his hair. She talks to him a little. He doesn't say anything. Eventually, she lets the silence grow, staring out the window at the evening sky.

“Angie,” Korekiyo finally says, in a small voice.

“Hm?” Her hand stills, but then he squirms slightly, so she resumes stroking his hair. “Yes, Kiyo?”

“When you die, do you think you’ll go to the same place as Sister?”

Angie hums quietly. Truthfully, as much as she knows that she is not above sin, she can’t imagine what trajectory her life would have to take to land her in the same afterlife as Korekiyo’s sister. She says a silent prayer for forgiveness, and a prayer for the sister’s wellbeing. God will take care of her, wherever she is. “I don’t think so.”

Korekiyo sighs. It's hard to tell whether it's disappointment or relief. “Will I?”

She keeps stroking his hair. “I don’t know where you’ll go when you die. But I know that you’ve always made your sister proud, and I’m sure she’ll be proud to know you’re studying things you’re passionate about.”

“Who do you think will share the same afterlife with her?”

Can she think of such a troubled soul? 

Maybe she answers, "Angie will have to ask God about that." And, "Are you worried she'll be lonely?"

And Korekiyo shivers. Nods.

"You don't have to worry. There are lots of people for her to meet. And if she's anything like Kiyo, she'll make lots of friends."

Or maybe Angie thinks of a person, names a name, only realizing later what Korekiyo was really asking.

[necroromantics]

Do you have any headcannons about Eyeless Jack or even Laughing Jack by chance? :0] For Cryptpasta

HI YES I DO

EYELESS JACK

- He's 6'3 in his typical form, but as he gets hungrier, his body shifts into a more demonic and beastly form. At his peak, he's about 6'7-6'8

- Jack is sort of like a host for the demon Chernobog. He needs to feed it to keep it contained. If he starves it by not giving it proper sustenance (living things, human organs give the most sustenance), then Chernobog will "take over" and cause Jack to go absolutely feral

- He can see pretty well in his typical form. His vision is just muddied and he's colour-blind

- The more beastly/hungry he gets, the worse his sight gets. When hes at his peak, he can't see shit and acts completely on instinct

- He is a huge geek. Very interested in classic literature, maths, sciences, and especially medicine

- Jack was a college student before he got sacrificed, and was working hard to become a doctor

- After his transformation, he began to really look into herbal medicine and started to use the plants around the forest in his medical practices for the other Creeps

- He's very good at fishing, but he fishes like a bear. Jack will jump into the water and catch fish in his mouth. He hates it, but he's more efficient like that than with a rod

- He grew up in a very religious household, which made him very atheist and anti-religion as he grew up

- As a teenager, he was very into things like politics, anarchism, video games, rock music, anything he could to rebel against his parents. He eventually grew out of it and mellowed down

- Jack was always a very intelligent and wise person. But he found himself so angry all the time, and isolated from his peers

- He experiences a lot of guilt now for his anger. He never wanted to hurt anyone, and after losing everything, Jack quickly realized that all he wanted was to make peace with the world

- When he turned into a demon, he felt like the only thing he could grasp was God. He has a very complicated relationship with religion, but its all he has left

- Even after everything, he's at God's mercy. Always rebelling

LAUGHING JACK

- He was human once, back around in the 1930s

- Jack was a serial killer who worked as a clown for a travelling circus

- "The Laughing Jack" was his stage name, he wore all black and white, mixing the traditional clown costumes with the mime act. He only ever talked to children, and would immediately go mute as soon as an adult was in hearing range

- Everybody knew he was a little bit strange. He was irritable, off-putting, didn't quite understand boundaries or when he was going too far. Parents thought his torment of their children was just apart of some sick act, but his coworkers knew it wasn't

- LJ would lure in children from parks or their yards and murder them right before his circus was about to leave the next morning. He wasn't careful at all, very messy and thoughtless

- This carelessness eventually led to his arrest, and he hung himself in prison

- He's actually technically a Zalgo proxy, because Zalgo is the one who granted him an afterlife as a ghost of sorts after his death

- But he always does his own thing. He targets who he wants, talks to who he wants. And it's almost always strictly children.

- Laughing Jack tends to target the boys more than the girls. Nobody really knows why

- He's generally a fun, goofy guy outside of the creepiness and he likes a good classic prank. But once the mask drops, he's very brooding and sinister, and has a tendency to make everyone around him uncomfortable

[rayshippouuchiha]

My God Ray have you seen the leaks for the latest JJK chapter? I'M SCREAMING??

Alright alright, so, Spoilers ahead in case you haven't and want to avoid this ask (or in case you do answer and your voidlings want to avoid spoilers)

-

-

-

JIN IS SUKUNA'S TWIN BROTHER THAT SUKUNA ATE WHILE STILL IN THE WOMB??? The fact that KENJAKU of all people ended up as Sukuna's fucking SIBLING-IN-LAW LMAO I'M LAUGHING SO FUCKING HARD

Also it makes me laugh so much that Sukuna is beefing with his 15/16 years old nephew, but honestly? Peak uncle energy, if my sister had a kid I'd be beefing with them 24/7 as well ngl

BUT ALSO YUJI HITTING SOMETHING LIKE 8 CONSECUTIVE BLACK FLASHES? BREAKING NANAMI'S RECORD?? AND INO USING NANAMI'S WEAPON AND ACTUALLY HITTING SUKUNA??? I just know that Nanamin is watching them from the Afterlife and is feeling so damn proud of his kids 😭😭😭

AND YUJI CONFIRMED HAVING SUKUNA'S SHRINE CT? Yuji GOATdori coming in WITH A STEEL CHAIR 🙏🙏🙏

AND we don't have a break next week! I'm so hyped!! GEGE KEEP COOKING 🗣🗣🗣

OH god yeah I follow the leaks every week and this week was wild. For a bit there we thought the Sukuna-Yuji Twin Theory had been confirmed and I was just like YESSS Sukuna's beef was just the Cain Instinct all along!!

But then they dropped that it was a translation error and said it was Jin instead but either way it makes it 1000% more hilarious how much Sukuna just fucking can't stand Yuji.

Spent the whole chapter scared for Ino though, can't lie. I don't trust Gege not to kill him or Choso every time they on page.

But yes yes yes Itadori "Left, Right, Good-fucking-night" Yuji is back in the house with all those Black Flashes and it was glorious

[hades-in-bloom]

‘Till Death Do Us Part, Pt. 2 | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: Leon disappeared on his wedding day—until he was finally found.

contents & warnings: am cursed with fluff, assumed older Leon, assumed age gap (could be none though), mentions of blood and injuries, mentions of death, reader could be any gender, Leon behaving like an ass because he can’t handle feelings, kisses, no mentions of y/n

author’s note: I had no idea how it would end until it ended; proceed at your own risk.

all works in this blog are intended for 18+ audience

comments are appreciated <3

xoxo

***

Leon spat blood and attempted to turn his head around, mildly squinting because of the palpable pain in the back of his skull. Shit, he grunted. Shit, shit, shit. The man cursed through the pain in his broken ribs and the soreness of the bruises that seemed to cover every inch of his body.

Who knew a quick work trip from New York to Washington, D.C., the day before your betrothal would be a nasty idea?

“You knew, you overworked dumbass,” Leon muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, cracked and hoarse. Everything that happened to him was precisely what Kennedy should have expected after the mission brief that Hunnigan delivered last night.

While he was getting out from under the wreckage of the D.S.O. helicopter, you must have been worried sick, all glammed up and dressed in your beautiful wedding gown. You didn’t let Leon take a peak at it before the ceremony, and now he regretted it—after all, he has never been too superstitious; will he even make it home tonight? At this moment, the man had no presumption if the ceremony would happen. Right now, he ran thin against the chances of making it out alive from his trouble.

Leon quickly searched for other survivors of the incident, but he found only corpses instead. Again. That seemed to be his thing—to be the last man standing; however, this peculiarity of his character has never brought as much peace to Leon as others would like it to.

It could bring peace to you, though, as by the end of this night, you might still have a fiancé to marry if he gets lucky.

Leon took time to bandage his right leg with pieces of his shirt as it bled heavily, almost dripping onto the ground. If he loses too much blood, he will collapse right there—and then you will haunt him in the afterlife, as you promised some time ago. Not that he didn't want to spend eternity with you, but it was way too soon for his liking.

Leon wasn't sure how long did it take to reach the highway, walking through the woodlands.

He passed out as soon as one of the cars slowed down next to him, answering the man's heavy gesturing from the roadside.

***

Your phone rang in the middle of the night, but you were wide awake.

“Yes, Ingrid?” you replied, audibly drenched and tired and lacking sleep for the past few days. You—or anyone—haven't heard back from Leon in a week, and you started losing your mind. You didn't want to prepare yourself for the worst; you really didn't.

“He's in a hospital in Delaware,” Hunnigan kept her tone professional, although it wasn't enough to hide her excitement. You covered your mouth with your hand, suddenly feeling dizzy. “He's badly hurt but alive. I'll send a D.S.O. ‘copter to pick you up—you are his emergency contact, after all.” You could hear Ingrid smiling. “Over and out.”

Hunnigan has already hung up—and you still couldn't breathe.

***

You rushed up the stairs to the second floor, not caring about using the slowest elevator on Earth—at least, that's how you perceived the hospital’s one; for the past week waiting on Leon to get back home, you had no patience left.

He briefly flinched in a hospital bed when you burst into his ward. You were so mad at him before—and suddenly you weren't, looking at how he's devouring a local chocolate pudding, a spoon still in his mouth when his eyes trained on you.

You felt a wave of relief washing over your body, and you finally felt it—he was alive. Despite all the odds, he came back to you.

“You bastard,” you whined anyway, keeping a weird distance. You might have been afraid of squeezing him too hard so the numerous droppers he was connected to would fall off.

Leon finally took a spoon out from between his lips, the lower one visibly split after the accident.

“Do I know you?” he tilted his head, watching you. You blinked in silence; only Kennedy’s heart rate monitor was beeping, its frequency increasing. After what you both went through, did he actually come back to you?

You didn't have time to say a word when one of the nurses walked into the room. She was in her sixties, looking at you like a proud aunt would.

“Oh, isn't it the lovely lady you've been telling me about,” she chirped, looking at Leon.

This was when you noticed a loving smirk growing on his face.

You took a deep breath, taking a step towards your dear fiancé.

“You are so lucky that you were dying a good second ago, Kennedy,” you groaned when he caught your wrist, almost desperately kissing you after you were pulled closer. You had no idea where his strength for this movement was coming from—but you could still feel a taste of a hospital-provided chocolate pudding on his lips.

***

[ghostbsuter]

"What exactly are halfas?" Constantine asks, cigarette lit and leaning against the table.

They were in the justice league, having attended a meeting previously and now just lazed around.

Batman loses focus on his laptop screen and openly looks at the two, interested.

Green Lantern, Hal, jerks up at the question, looking between everyone still in the room and trying (and failing) to seem uninterested.

Zatara is glaring daggers at Constantine's back, eyes narrowed.

While flash had no context, having just arrived back with his food to sit with the rest, he appropriately tenses as well, from just one glance around the room.

Superman and Wonder woman aren't different from batman, not as discreet as some are trying to be and just staring at the two.

Slightly amused, Danny decided to entertain the question.

"Unlike ghosts and the undead, halfas are created and not born." He explains, looking at the man when he writes it down.

Who knew the infinity realm were this closed off that John Constantine had to get information from the source itself just to keep updated?

"Care to elaborate?"

Clicking his tongue, he does so.

"Halfas get created during extreme circumstances, it has to be right place, right time and correct amount of ectoplasm." Danny catches the lollipop that Batman throws at him, sending the bat a quick smile.

"Not everyone can become a halfa, our race is a rarity amongst the dead."Constantine raises a brow, pursing his lips. "There are only 3 of you right? Is that a normal amount in the realms?"

Another click. "No, thousands of years ago, when our kind reached its peak of over hundreds of people, Pariah Dark happened."

He briefly shares a glance with Martian Manhunter, he wonders if anyone here sent out a message of phantom story time? Why were they all lounging around?

"It was genocide. He killed off an entire species just because he felt threatened." He shrugs.

Constantine jolts, eyes clear as if he'd just connected the dots.

"So his downfall wasn't only because of rights of conquest but��� the reason no one joined nor fought between you and the old King was because it was a revenge kill."

Danny ponders the words over, nodding. Yeah that sounds right.

"Many aren't surprised that Pariah Dark went berserk. It was kind of predictable, considering his soul was brought to the Infinity Realms after he'd died in the Phantom Zone as you know it."

Hal straightens up, Batman tenses and Diana leans forward.

"This previous King of yours– he was a past prisoner of Aethyr's Mind?"

The halfa nods, uncertain now that he'd stumbled upon unknown territory.

"Yes, the Phantom Zone and the Infinity Realms are sister spaces. Were you not aware?"

They were not, he quickly finds out.

Fumbling with his words, mind working overdrive as he sorts through information, he speaks again. "They are the two sides of the same coin, Phantom Zone being non-habitable while the Ghost Zone is filled with unalive."

He briefly struggles with his words, genuinely taken off guard with the lack of knowledge.

"Aethyr isn't just a being, but someone who is connected to the realm itself. Its similar to my position as King of the ghost zone." He summons his crown of ice to simple gesture.

"Besides! Phantom Zone, Zero Zone? Anti-infinite? That's literally the opposite of the Ghost Zone, the Infinite Realms!" he exclaims, throwing his hands up.

"Could you tell us more of your realm?" Superman asks, voice gentle and non threatening. "Some of us have been in the Phantom Zone, so hearing that there is a place being the complete opposite?"

The halfa nods in understanding. "Sure, why not?"

Three simple words yet everyone feels the trust put on them with such information.

"The entire realm is an ever shifting space, we categorise eith the sectors of each afterlife. From the Greeks to the Yetis and different eras."

—

(The tale of his realm lasts longer than expected, it is only when Hal started to get ready to leave does Danny address a certain area in his zone.

"The... Emerald Space is also a sector of the Infinity realm. The sector itself is formed in a sphere like form, we aren't sure what's inside since the fallen lanterns keep to themselves rather."

Hal froze, eyes catching the ghosts, and looked away again. He'd tell OA of this, but now he was going home.

Danny watched him leave and declared it down for now, free for more question the next time and left just as fast.

At least Constantine and Zatara can update their books now.)

[cyberrat]

(Overlord AU)

Angel is use to Val telling him to get handsy with potential clients, but Husk keeps brushign him off while still treating him NICELY. But every once in a while Angel can just peak the faintest hint of a blush under Husk's fur whenever his slender hand brushes along the shorter gentleman's waist. And knowing he's getting a rise out of him (albet a TANTALIZINGLY slow rise) has Angel more worked up than he realizes (That's normal right? He just wants to be good at his job. It's not like he's starting to care for the old tomcat, with his gentle paws and sharp grin and sexy rumbly voice)

When Husk finally FINALLY leads him away to a secluded area, Angel's practically VIBRATING at the prospects of getting railed within an inch of his afterlife. But Husk immediately drops to his knees, braces one of those long spider legs over his shoulder and starts lapping at that spider cock like he's been offered a four course meal. By the end of it Husk has to pretty much brace Angel against the wall with his shoulders to keep him standing.

I. Am. Losing. My. Goddamn. Mind.

Yes! This is PERFECT!

It is EXACTLY what I‘m thinking 😩🙏

Like Angel is too fucking stunned to speak when Husk suddenly drops down and lifts his leg. Maybe he‘s wearing a skirt that night and Husky pauses for a second, claws dragging through Angel‘s fur, taking in the sight before muttering: „…easy access.“

Cause of course Angel isn‘t wearing any panties.

And Husk doesn‘t know what he‘s exactly working with but there are two delicious little holes that contract under his touch and he‘s no fucking idiot okay? So he starts lapping at them gently…

Until Angel‘s little spider cock starts to emerge from one of them. And isn‘t that just SO INTERESTING?!?! Husk can work with that. Absolutely.

So he focuses his attention on Angel‘s dick, all the while Angel just presses his hands against his mouth, trying to remain quiet, his whole body *shaking* from the sensation.

Like he fucks. He fucks *daily*. But what Husk is doing is some next level shit and he feels like he *is* going to piss any second because that orgasm that is brewing is downright frightening.

[dclover25]

Ok so like everyone’s always going on about how the Joker is peak immoral Batman villain and needs to be killed ASAP, and yes that freak needs to be permanently stopped immediately under any means necessary

BUT

He is not the one you should be most scared of and that should have every hand on deck working to stop with any and all power possible, no that honor belongs to Professor Pyg

Because the Joker will murder, torture, SA, hell even brainwash you with torture for a laugh, but Pyg? He’ll take away everything that makes you you. He permanently alters your brain and body into something inhuman, monstrous, demonic (actually that’s all an insult to Superman, Solomon Grundy, Etrigan, they at least have thought)

Pyg fundamentally takes everything from you

The Joker can take your life in hellishly painful ways or leave you with mental and physical scars that are incapable of fully healing, he can brainwash, but as seen with Tim he’s not effective at fully breaking you, there’s a chance of escape even after the damage has been done

Pyg doesn’t just alter your mind, he alters your brain, your body, your face with physical precision that would take magic or time travel to fix, he leaves nothing of you and you can’t even have the peace of an afterlife or knowledge that you slip into the ether to stop existing, he uses the remnants of your body for his purposes

If your lucky you’ll get to be like Scarlet and only lose your physical identity, most of his victims don’t get that

There are much worse things then pain and death

[alexandia03]

Inkpot Gods?? I'm listening 👂👂👂

Ahhh, yes. This is my baby project that started as a little joke and spiralled into me planning a spin-off fic for Memento Vivere. It is still in the early stages and I had a separate post prepared for this but...

Inkpot Gods will be a collection of stories about the other Cardulo-Tavis idiots I absolutely fell in love with (and everyone gave them a warm welcome so far so...). The first chapter already has 3K words and unlike with MV, I have no idea where I am going with this story. It will mostly be a place where I will throw all the stories and flashback scenes I come up with about Braelyn and Derik (if I am suffering I am taking you all down with me).

And there will probably be many 'afterlife' chapters with these two watching over their younger siblings because I love to make myself suffer like that.

The title is inspired by this goddamned song from The Amazing Devil, which reminds me a lot of Braelyn and Derik's dynamic as a couple.

And now a little sneak-peak...

I look at the soldier standing closest to the bars, laughing at a joke his colleague made, paying us absolutely no mind - we are a threat they have already neutralized, in their arrogant narrow minds. But oh, I could make him throw me his sword though these bars with just a couple of words… better yet, I could make the rider next to him, a mountain of a man who is twice my size and who probably has a lame-ass fire signet, turn on his friends and kill them for me. I could do it all and even more.  “No, you couldn’t.” Derik groans and I am vaguely aware of his spectral presence squatting next to me. I don’t even know when he moved through the cell to come next to me by the cell bars. “You haven’t eaten anything since before you were captured by General Bitchgail, you haven’t slept in days… not to mention you almost drained yourself when you manipulated those two dragons yesterday.”  “Since when are you the voice of reason?” I grumble, my voice barely above a whisper and still refusing to look towards him. He is not here, not really - I know he is just a trick of my own sleep-deprived mind and the last thing I want is to draw the attention of my mom and Mrs. Tavis by arguing out-loud with this fucked-up hallucination of my dead boyfriend. 

[hyukascampfire]

first 🌰 ask of the year, how exciting is that 👏😏 hi ashlynn! hope you’re feeling better! it made me so happy to talk about folk of the air with you. i have more fae stories in my 2025 tbr, like balzac’s the last fey (a very short read) and the second book in the emily wilde series (i think the third one is releasing very soon.) concerning my fave reads from the holiday event… you guessed 2 out 3 titles correctly OMG how do you know me this well !?

let’s go about this in descending order.

🥉 krampusnacht ┃ is this a safe space to say i got off to this one? and i know, i know i said i can rarely get into pwp… which is why i’m pleasantly surprised by how captivated i was by this. i saw the light. and the way beomgyu’s delayed appearance creates both tension and anticipation? i was being teased on several levels LMAO.

🥈 it will come back ┃ maybe it’s because the crowd has been awaiting tsfawc taehyun smut with bated breath but i know i’m not the only one who was reminded of him while reading iwcb. let’s begin with the fact that you named it after another hozier song title!? and the jealousy, obviously? (never fear that you might be overindulging in the jealousy trope for i voraciously eat it up every single time.) but i digress. i think what makes a yandere character so caricatural is when the mc knows something’s off with them yet decide not to do anything about it. like, wdym he just baked your cat into a pie for cockblocking him once and you don’t gaf ??? the fact that, in iwcb, mc only realises she’s fucked when it’s too late adds such a layer of realism that amplifies the prevailing dreariness. also “is this what you want? to be fucked like an animal? you’re better than that. but, if it’s what you like, i’ll fuck you like it.” i died, i’m typing this from the afterlife.

🥇 at swan lake ┃ the story began with melancholy but i was so excited to read this one that i couldn’t stop giggling (◞‸◟) i have to say, you’re so great at focusing on one particular personality trait of each member and expanding on it to make up the character you believe best fits the story. it’s like… they’re familiar/recognisable yet we see them in a new light. (“in the air, the rich nuttiness of fire-toasted chestnuts dance…” they could really get me to show up to the engagement party with that fr.) “i’d take you no matter how you are; in a thousand different lives, i’d have you each time.” yeah, i CRIED. you dropped so many banger lines in this one. the lore was so insane in at swan lake, i was invested as hell. the gasp i let out when beomgyu revealed that the whole swan saints thingy is a lie and they can touch ??? why was i bamboozled OFC they can touch otherwise how would they fuck ??? the concept is way too brilliant, i’d totally read it as a novel or novella.

special mentions ┃ the frost remembers (angst is bait, i am fish.) ⟋ milk with your cookies? (i know the people are enjoying gift wrapping more but sleep on beds, not peak!!)

i read everything you wrote and, as i thought, you could never write anything half-assed. glad to know tsfawc is back AAAAA i’d love a spoiler like last time (＞＜) miss my gang (brooding fae man, changeling, the off-putting kelpie guy they sort of adopted and prince charming fae who’s been all in their business, thinking he’s on the team.) take care! stay hydrated and get adequate amounts of rest! love u 🌰🤎

first chestnut ask of the year!! life is good >.<!! talking w u about my silly faerie obsession has been fun and i’ll have to read some more so that it never ends. :3

IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS YOU DONT EVEN KNOW. i’m just awesome and smart like that 😖 JKJK I JUST HAD A FEELING

KRAMPUSNACHT THREW ME OFF A LIL. i think out of the smuttier ones, tho, it makes sense. also YES it absolutely is IM FLATTERED. i need this pair in ways that i should not disclose. beomgyu’s a little wicked and a little eerie but that’s how i like him. LMAO

IT WILL COME BACKKK that’s one of my favorite hozier songs it’s so eerie and sexy at the same time. i knew it had to be the title 😭 iwcb and tsfawc taehyun are definitely in the same vein. especially with that cool calculation. but of course, they have a very different set of morals and i think that’s where they differ most. hehe. i do sometimes fear that i’m going overboard with jealousy, but… i am who i am. i am a hoe for jealousy, but i am FREE and i am HAPPY. i agree w yandere’s sometimes become unbelievable when they’re not handled correctly. sometimes they’re just batshit crazy in broad daylight, and i’m like?? i am not feeling unnerved and slightly out of place, i’m just SCARED. with yanderes, you definitely have to keep reader in a suspension of belief along with the MC. the best part abt a yandere, in my opinion, is that chills feeling you get when you know something is slightly off, but you can’t pin it/say that there’s smth wrong with them, because they’ve gotten good at hiding who they really are. this one was so fun to write for me,, it was my first dabble into dark territory and WHEW did i love it

at swan lake… my baby <<<333 ALSO IVE BEEN TOLD THIS A FEW TIMES, that the members are vaguely familiar when i write them. i fully own that—i think that sometimes it’s really fun to have a character in a fic that is super far from a member’s true self, but i really like being able to relate them back to the members because it just feels so immersive. maybe that’s why i do it, lol. AND I KNEW YOU’D LOVE THAT i was absolutely thinking abt you when i wrote that. so toasty so cozy so yum. i am so attached to this fic, as the certified #1 soulmates & reincarnation truther. something about a love that will prevail and find its way, even through the stark end of death and the pressure of the world on its back… cries. i just loved beomgyu being her opposite, and everything that goes against what she has been taught, but she just couldn’t keep herself away. it was fate. CRIES HARDER.

the frost remembers, my precious :,)) also I LOVE MILK W UR COOKIES AND i am so w u. santa soobin was smth i was not expecting to have to reflect upon myself with, but it happened and i am better for it.

ILY BUNCHES and i miss my gang too :(( they are a strange bunch, maybe even a motley crew, but they have a special place in my heart. i love them and OFCCC i’ll give you guys spoilers. i’m too impatient not too 😭 i get excited for you guys to see. U TAKE CARE OF URSELF and as always i’ll be waiting for the next time you come to talk! :3

[magewolf-the-artist]

Late Night Laments Sneak Peak

It was impressive how cold the K-9 Facility got at night. During the day it was certainly chilly, yes, but whatever warmth existed outside found ways to leak into the bunker through cracks in the aged concrete and the break room window. But at night it was positively frigid. Charles might’ve been shivering if, well… 

He cast a sad look at his hand. But… it wasn’t his, it was all wrong, everything about it was wrong. It was the Boozoo animatronic’s hand, something made of metal and plastic, cold and lifeless. The plastic casing on the palm had since fallen off, leaving the smooth endoskeleton exposed to cool night air.  

Yeah. That. 

He sighed deeply and pressed back against the wall, his eyes tracing the winding pipes and support beams branching on the ceiling. The lighting here was never great, but he was almost certain they got dimmer at night. He could barely make out any details except for the general shape. 

But back to the previous point. He could feel the cold, yes, just like he could feel the dull but ever-present ache of his existence pulsing through his being. But it felt… numbed, like his reaction was dulled to it. Was this because he was shoved into a robot? Was it because he had plenty of other things to worry about? Who knows! He certainly didn’t anymore. 

Nothing about this situation made sense. It never had. God, who knew he’d be shoved into a tin can for the rest of his… life? Afterlife? Well, either way, it was a shitty hand he was dealt. How the hell was he supposed to know when he first joined BSI four years ago that it would turn out like this? Murdered violently by Bon after discovering the horrifying truth of his friend’s disappearance, severed from his family, locked away in an underground bunker where no one could hear him, or any of them, really, scream for help.