#i can't handle the maggots

[cerbreus]

maggots. so many maggots in the (indoor) recycling container because of open cat food (still 1/4 full) container. i can handle most insects just fine but man i can't do maggots. gonna look at pics of my boyfriend n his dog for a bit to feel better.

#i wish i could say this is the first time i've been surprised by maggots #it's not #this is the 3rd time #i'm so fine with most bugs! it's usually just fine! #of all the household pests we've got going on i think they and the fruit flies are the worst #i can ignore the house centipedes and actual centipedes #i can cohabitate with all the spiders #i can't handle the maggots #i just dumped the whole thing in the trash bin im not dealing with that it's recyclable and we don't have a fucking hose #its just gross man i hate this so much #personal stuff #this isn't a vaguepost its just a me being eugghhghgh ghgh post

[thepeonysbackup]

◇Dry Humping◇

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Gumbo, a soup that brings out more then just the taste of its ingredients, but desire from within from a source only taste can trigger. A broth that acts as a honey sculpted cup that holds the aphrodisiac to the minds most fondest of memories. Affection. That is its purest name.

Tags: Mdni, boring plot, dub con (She ultimately enjoys it), dry humping, something I came up with on the spot.

Word count: 2.2k (not proofread)

Request: Yes/No

Part two at: 600 notes!🎉

As you stirred the ladel within the large deep pot from your place at the stove, atop your stool with your apron. You gently leaned over the pot as steam rose, inhaling the heated air so you could smell your progress, it was daring to graze the mark of heavenly, much to your excitement as you shifted to finish chopping up the vegetables that were set up on a chopping board on the off side of the stove as the radio played soft jazz in the background.

Being the kind and sweet little vixen you were, you thought you'd do the hotel a favor by cooking the rest of the staff a meal. Taking care to check on the individuals before you went all in on your choice. Angel wanted Asian food, claiming that he'd seen one of the girls at his work snacking on rice balls and wanted some too. Husk said he'd been craving seafood, groaning about how none of the places near the hotel had anything good to sell. Vaggie was bias, 'okay with whatever was cooking in your noggin' in her own words while Charlie urged you to surprise her with excited squeal. Nifty had ended up finding you before you could her, and then handed you a bag of maggots that were still very much alive and asked for a paste. Creepy, but you said okay before actually thinking it through. Pentious had taken a rather long while of thinking before he settled on soup, he wanted a tomato soup. That left you puzzled at what you could possibly make for everyone to equally enjoy, because fusing palletts with rices and seafood was a breeze, but adding a soup into the mix? Oh dear, your idea was becoming difficult to come into flourishan as you trekked down the halls of the hotel to locate the facility manager and overlord whom was currently residing in his pocket dimension like room, which never seemed to stay in a singular one of them, but shift everytime he wanted it moved. So it was a game of chance, knocking on every door you knew as vacant before finally having one opened by the smiling radio demon. He held his cane in the same hand that he had for the door, the other arm folded behind him as he tilted his head to the right in question down at you. "A meal, you say? My, I was going out this evening but I must ask what it is!" He had enthusiastically voiced through his static, but when you said you hadn't decided yet because of how different everyone's cravings were he seemed interested in also giving an option to you. "You always choose Jambalaya, why not another meal?" You complained while thinking of what you could do with all these choices. "I'm afraid it's Jambalaya, my dear. Unless you have any access to some truly delicious venison!" He chuckled out, lightly twirling his cane in his hand as he tapped it on the ground so he could lean his chin on the handle. This was so unfair, what could you possibly make that would—

"Wait, Jambalaya- Jambalaya, Cajun‐ Cajun means that rice, shrimp and- Yes, wait, hold on- Soup- Tomatoes- Vegetables and add extra meat like chicken and venison—" You babbled quickly aloud, drawing Alastors attention a bit more. He cocked a brow at you, lips thinning out as he grinned at your unintelligible banter, "My Dear, you must speak up. I simply can't understand anything when you mumble." He straightened himself up so he could examine his nails as you let out an excited noise, in all fairness it was so sudden that he had every right to tense up as you grabbed his arms suddenly in a tight grasp so you could pull him towards you, "You're a Genius Al, thank you!" You beamed, bouncyness following your stride as you began to quickly make your way back down the hallway to the stairs after letting him go like you hadn't even realized that his static was buzzing like a hornet around the two of you. You were something alright.

As you had just finished throwing the rest of the vegetables into the pot, you pulled out the spices from the lazy susan on the counter, choosing the more mild spices and only about four drops of tabasco before the basil and parsley were dashed in on top. Now the lid was placed, holding in the mouth watering scents that were to come later when they were ready. The music continued, your figure bopping gently around the kitchen as you began to get the plates ready with the rice, plopping large scoops into the bowls so you could hallow them out by pressed them inward with the bottom of the ladel you were using. At the bottom of each of the rice bowls you'd made, you added thoroughly cooked slices of venison to everyone's except Al's and Niftys. Those two were getting their own special snacks added in, the maniacs. Al's bowl got raw, uncooked deer meat at the bottom instead that and a few on a plate below his bowl that had the maggot paste for the side dip. Niftys maggot paste was poured into her bowl and topped with raw shrimp and then the cooked venison. After all of them were prepped, you picked up a rag and wiped your forehead because all you had to do was wait just a bit longer.

"Ah, so you're really cooking. I would have assumed the hotel would be in flames if anyone else were to take a chance in this room, of course Nifty can make some delicious demon spik."

"Haha, very funny Al." Your back was facing the radio demon, ears on alert as his footsteps slowly but casually drew him over to your bubbling pot, inhaling while lightly using his hand to bring the scent of the steam rising from the sides of the lid. He made a delighted noise, static almost completely gone as his claws grasped the handle of the lid and tugged it off, steam bursting upwards to show the contents within. “Well, this sure isn't Jambalaya but by good golly it's gumbo! How clever of you, little darling!” He spoke loudly, amused and seemingly with a truly gleeful smile on his face as his other hand grabbed your waist to pull you near him as he examined your work, nose catching whiff of a different scent near as well. “And if my nose doesn't deceive me," He inhaled deeply near your ear, nose just barely grazing your cheek as he leaned further up until his head was resting above yours, using his height to allow himself to break character for a moment, his eyes turning wide with dials fixed in the center as blood stains began to run down his chin from how hard he was grinning,

"₮Ⱨ₳₮ ĐɆⱠɆ₵₮₳฿ⱠɆ ₴₵Ɇ₦₮ ł₴ VɆ₦ł₴Ø₦.."

The harsh sound of his static made you wince, body tensed further, “Yes, I thought it would be a nice addition, the meats flavor is a bit different and so when you eat it with the broth i-it tastes mildly spicier then without it.” His voice buzzed, a satisfied noise leaving him as he side stepped around you, now back to his normal cheery grin as he took hold of one of the raw slabs of venison and dangled it above his mouth before slowly opening his jaws like a snake threatening to attack. Then, with a swift move, he clamped down on the thin piece of meat and tore it out of his hand in a single whip of her head to the side. “Truly a marvelous snack you've provided here, darling doe.” His nicknames were slowly progressing to more dearing comparisons, making you flush as you lifted you ladel and placed it back into the pot to stir it, but not before you climbed back onto your stool to do so.

-

Time went by as you cooked, Alastor remaining hovering with his quiet buzz of static as he enjoyed the meat that you had to offer, the fact that you had taken so much time just to get everything you had needed for him making him feel as though he was more important, even if you were making dinner for everyone. His eyes held true to your figure, that smile that forever kept its place on his face widening as he slowly lost himself in thought as he observed your lips lightly shy away from the utensil you'd pulled from the hot boil to get a taste of the broth, the contents being too hot to consume so suddenly before you blew on it. He reveled in the way you moaned at the creamy liquid, eyes shutting blissfully as a hand came to cover your lips like it would hide the long trickle of the broth from his sight. No, he saw it, and how he craved to be the very thing that would lick the taste off you, the tongue that would replace your own that darted so quickly out to take the drop for itself. That, nostalgic.. that warm and soft, dare he say heavenly taste from your lips, from your tongue. Alastors static began to grow in volume, his body inching closer to yours on the stool as he felt a growing pain from below at your half bent over form over the stovetop. “Do you often leave yourself so openly vulnerable to just anybody.. or… Am I just lucky?” He asked, suddenly right against your ear from behind, both hands atop each of yours as his physique pressed you into the dangerously hot Kitchenware. “What?-” You had asked, bewildered at the sudden change in atmosphere the room was in just moments ago. 

Alastor hadn't really heard you, ears pressing back into his head as he pressed his crotch against the plush softness of your ruffled skirt, lightly moving the fabric of his bulge against your rear in slow rolls of his hips. It was sudden, hesitant almost, as if Al hadn't been planning for this to happen whatsoever. “I asked you a question, hmpf- d-dearest..” He hushed against the back of your neck, nipping it with his teeth with a hiss, his hands that had yours pinned down gripping harder to keep you in place as the stretchy fabric of your skirt rode up on your ass at the force used in his motions. The friction had you boggled in the brain, a few noises of concerned pleasure rising up into your throat as you thought hard about his question. “Ahn- N—no-..” She answered, earning a tut from the overlord behind her, the fabric of your panties were getting bunched up and pulled down about half way, “That's not a proper answer, now is it Mon Cher?” A little cry escaped you, the feeling of his pants rough texture against your soft petals making tears of overstimulation well in your big doe eyes. “I-I— I don't know- I can't- Ouu- Fuck!-” Alastor hushed you, a hand freeing one of yours so his could trail up to your neck so it could wrap around it in a firm grip. Your pretty face being cranned upwards and back so he could see the fucked out blissful expression on your face as your own hand reeled back to hold fast against his hip, a last attempt to push him away being futile as his movements became more spurred by you noises, faster and faster. "Such vulgarity," He groaned into your ear, breath hot and growling excitedly, "Speak again, speak to me. Tell me how you crave more, Mon Cher-" Your voice called to him, his name slipping past your lips like a hymn, a lament, a song.

Oh, how he adored your voice, strained and laced with need.

How he desired more as the coil in his mind snapped, antlers growing in size as he hunched over and into your back, head lightly using you as stability while his demonic form grew, long arms and gnarly claws digging into your clothes enough to tear the flesh, not only fabric. The dials of his eyes spun, his legs buckling as your bare cunts juices flowed lazily down his front, the warmth he felt as he released as well pulling a guttural growl from his throat as the both of you eased into a slower more controlled pace.

This hadn't gone as planned, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining.

#happy hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the baftas: my eyes need bleach after the livestream chat.

I SAID I WOULD COME TO TUMBLR AND SLUT-SHAME ALL OF YOU, AND YOU BET YOUR GODDAMN BILDADDY I'M HERE TO DO IT. First, a huge thank you to @good-usernames-were-taken, Valerie, for enabling this entire chaos and streaming it. And of course to Disappointment the Main Maggot.

Second, as per requests from you maggots, I have to give an honourary mention to the tragic lack of an emotional support gaseous orange, the late half-eaten packet of Lays on my desk, and my nearly empty can of Monster energy. Idk either, you asked for the mentions you got them.

Without further ado, presenting the BAFTA Awards 2024:

I am busy drawing out the neckline stitches of Crowley's wedding dress, when I am reminded of the stream and I crash into it midway. Little do I know what I am getting into.

Everyone is here for David Tennant. No one is here for the actual awards. This is made very clear very quickly.

KNEES. JUST KNEES. ALL EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT, THROUGHOUT THE STREAM, IS DAVID TENNANT'S KNEES. ARE YOU ALL OKAY WHAT THE FRESH HELL.

For context, David is in a kilt for the first half. I finally see why my relatives disapprove of skirts above knee-length. I never knew humanity's unholy worship of knees till I came here.

SOMEONE ASKS IF DAVID HAS TANNED HIS KNEES. MAGGOTS. PLEASE.

We interrupt our regular scheduled program of David knees to have an intense discussion about British versus French humour, and the misgendering of croissants.

RDJ wins an award and calls his wife his Alpha and Omega.

We're back to the knees. I can't handle how slutty David's knees are, says a worthy maggot.

This goes into a discussion about tickets for David's Macbeth, because, you guessed it, the kilt and the knees.

A lot of gorgeous and talented women in the BAFTAs tonight. I am floored.

I am not allowed to dwell in my awe because the chat is not a place of the lord. Curtain calls of Macbeth are discussed with unnecessary lasciviousness.

Thankfully, in the midst of this, I get a great Zodiac pattern reference for Crowley's wedding dress cummerbund. I was going to have to research the night sky for star charts but this is better.

People show their beautiful brainrot-induced Doc Marten purchases.

The knee thirst has moved into X-rated territory. I am terrified.

A song is sung in memory of film industry people who passed away this year, and people are sad about Dumbledore but at the same time are imagining Aziraphale and Crowley dancing to the song. The brainrot is real.

I accidentally spoil Saltburn's freakshow for someone. When I ask how I can make up for it, they say something about GOAD. I'm alarmed. Is that an OnlyFans, I ask. It's Good Omens After Dark, the chat answers. Is THAT an OnlyFans, I ask. Close enough, the chat says.

David has now changed outfits to a suit, which finally makes people pay attention to the BAFTAs, if only to alternatively thirst over the suit and bemoan the loss of knees.

Things, uh, happen, which I will have to include as quotes in another post. Cheers, @thearoacemess and @vitrilol.

Barty Crouch Jr is debated about as the Wolfstar child. Bratty Crouch Jr is said to be Crowley.

I obtain a banana, which I associate with blowjobs.

@thearoacemess talks about someone deepthroating a seven-inch banana without a hitch.

The stream does a flashback to the kilt time. It is a mistake. @queermarzipan barrels in and is being too slutty about the knees.

I tell them they need jesus, and they yell about how they've gone to mass twice today and they're an atheist.

Thankfully, @vitrilol starts chanting about the glory of Ireland. The only thing that will distract Marzipan from David Tennant is Ireland.

He proceeds to start screech-singing in all caps.

🎵IRELAND IIIRELAND TOGETHER STANDING TALLLL.🎵

The BAFTAs end. People are still thirsting over David Tennant.

🎵I KNOW YOU'RE MISSING HOME IT'S SO LONG SINCE YOU'VE BEEN🎵

Uh, more dubious things about David, suits and the absence of said suits are discussed. I'm trying my damndest not to notice.

🎵AND THE LIFE YOU HAD IN DUBLIN NOW AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A DREAM🎵

There is accidental Mascot lore: I am apparently from a different timeline (I mixed up timeline and timezone) and that's how Apollo deposited me in an illegal sushi restaurant where I became Neil Gaiman and Michael Sheen's intellectual child.

I am compared to a cat.

TOM HIDDLESTON AND DAVID TENNANT WERE IN THE STAGED-LIKE THING IN THE BEGINNING AHAHAHAHAH LOKI AND CROWLEY MY TWO CELESTIAL GENDERFLUID ICONS.

OKAY so I will end the summary here and make a list of out of context quotes in a new post. Because. Boy oh boy. That deserves its own post.

#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #david tennant #bafta 2024 #good omens #maggots #good omens fandom #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #michael sheen #bafta awards #bafta #bafta livestream #tom hiddleston #loki #ireland #macbeth

[bonefall]

Better Bones: CW List

Can't believe I have to make this disclaimer, but here we are

Better Bones is not a project that aims to fix canon by making the Clans wholesome and unproblematic. Though there can be fun and kindness in it and my philosophy is an optimistic one, It's not an escapist fantasy. It is a story about semi-realistic cats of human intelligence in a violent, war-obsessed theocratic dictatorship, and how they attempt to change it over the years.

Clan Culture is flawed, that is on purpose. Addressing and changing this is what the story is about.

I am very disappointed I have to state this because it should be obvious from my main post where I explicitly say that my goal is to "Address (Canon's) Problematic Elements." Not remove.

If you cannot handle themes or depictions of;

Physical and emotional abuse; Domestic, authoritative, and familial

Child abuse and inter-generational trauma

Somewhat graphic medical discussion, such as abortion, wound infection, and the use of leeches and maggots

The killing and processing of small animals into food, including tanning and butchery

Semi-realistic cat behaviors, specifically marking things with urine

Ableism; both externalized and internalized, Clan culture treats disabled cats poorly and this is something several characters struggle with

Xenophobia; to a violent degree, including stochastic terrorism, hate crime, and discrimination

^^^ read that one again. Consider that on this list twice.

Politics; Authoritarianism, fascism, and liberalism as an enemy, discussion of dog whistles and ideology

"Redemption arcs" of people who did bad things

Cosmic horror and supernatural curses

Graphic violence, including against innocent bystanders, through assault, poisoning, drowning, falling, and even being eaten alive by large fish and demigods.

Animal abuse; Human beings harming cats on purpose and Clan cats generally being terrified of all humans, even kind and loving ones

Clan cats, both villainous and culturally mislead, glorifying these things in-universe, not immediately staring at the camera and breaking character to tell you "This Is A Bad Thing!"

Then Better Bones may not be for you. I would at minimum rate this project as PG-13, but PG-16 would be a more accurate bet.

I have sympathy for you if these are not topics you can handle. My project tackles very upsetting real-world issues and not everyone is looking for something challenging; that's understandable and there's no fault in that. I try to tag appropriately but can't promise to catch everything, so please keep yourself safe.

There are other, softer projects out there run by cool people if this is not for you, and you can add #Better Bones AU to your tag filters and this project will not show up!

But, I'm not responsible for your comfort with my art. If you followed me under the assumption that BB is "Warriors without any ableism/xenophobia/violence" you were mistaken. If you don't have the maturity to act responsibly when something upsets you, or DO have the malice to read a disabled person's work with the most bad faith interpretations you can muster, LEAVE.

#It's better bones not Brand New Bones #better bones au #cw list #masterpost #I'm dead serious get the fuck out. I don't want people like that here #I'm not writing this for the people who couldn't handle steven fucking universe #This is NOT a feelgood happy story with distant lackadaisical problems #A guy gets gutted on-screen and then they sing a song about how cathartic his gruesome death was #Because they all watched him equally gruesomely kill a bunch of innocent people including kids #Bumbs was going to get MURDERED before ThunderStorm bowled in #Really can't believe I'm saying this but guys there are some fucking People out there #Hi! I'm a random weirdo who doesn't follow you type shit #Clans are XENOPHOBIC. #THEY TREAT FOREIGNERS BAD #There is going to be a WHOLE THING about Berry the Evil Educator and how she uses 'proper grammar' to shame and demonize Heart's guardians #christ

[eldritch-spouse]

That guy calling in again, he's becoming a regular. Well he is a client. My weirdest and creepiest caller yet…

“You know what I want to do you, you pathetic quickshot? I want to cut you open like the worthless sack of meat you are. Then I'm going to fondle your organs, places that should never be touched. Mhhhn- I'll grind against your sad excuse of a cock as I start rubbing your disgusting rotting blood all over my tits- Ah! Would you like that, my sick little loser?”

He calls when he's lonely. When he's stressed. During those days where Patches just can't escape his own thoughts, can't focus on his work. He needs a distraction, but not anything will do. A special type of pain is what he's after, the kind that tints his cheeks and makes his curdled undead blood sing.

Your contact is the first one that shows up on his phone.

God, isn't that just the most pathetic fucking thing? You'd bully him into a second grave if you knew that...

He can't help but think that the two of you have a special connection, that maybe you really do mean the things you say. But, who knows, it could just be him projecting all his hope into the first woman who won't just hang up on his face when he asks if they'd ever stab him.

It's probably that.

You're too good for him.

But he can always pretend, right? To feel that little bit of joy and trick himself into believing that someone out there wants to make all his sick fantasies come to life because he means just that much to them.

You know how to handle him by now. Lord knows he's called enough times for you to get an idea of what kind of loser he is. You must be sick and tired of his rotten guts by now. But that's yet another thing he loves about you, all the dullahan has to do is stutter out a greeting, make a bit of awkward small talk and you seamlessly segway into the sickening shit that makes his already throbbing cock leak like a faucet.

He's predictable, and Patches knows this very well. So much so that you mocked him for it before.

How he's really just a sad little animal, so sad and so stupid that you could make a recording of the same vague threats and play it to him an indefinite amount of times and he'd cum himself all the same.

Patches still remembers that one time you had him burn his head on a candle while he jerked off and you laughed at his melted moans. If only you were there. Lords if you were there... He doesn't think he'd ever let go of you. You'd probably hate him if he forced you to stay in his laboratory, but you'd come around. Eventually. Besides, he wonders what you really look like when you're livid.

These calls never last too long.

Or rather, he doesn't last long.

And yet, these short few minutes are the highlights of most of his days.

Patches sits there, palm covered in his own cum, hearts in his eyes as he steadies his breathing and listens to the scathing melody of your jeering laughter.

Goddess.

" I... I love you. "

Patches murmurs.

It's not even the first time.

" Yeah. "

You answer, and he can almost see the way you roll your eyes.

" Now be the gross little maggot you are and lick that mess off your hand. "

Gods, how he loves you.

#Patches oc #tce rp ask

[linkeduniverse-writing]

General LU Headcanons part 1

Heya! So I'm starting this blog with some general headcanons about the boys, I think I'll divide it in three parts so it's not too long. First up are Four, Hyrule, and Legend! Hope you enjoy :D

Part 2 Part 3

Four

It takes him so long to emerge from sleep

Like he'll be in a haze for like 20 minutes, not able to form any coherent thoughts

Which is kind of a surprise because he's one of the early risers, and is super reactive once fully awake

He tends to talk to himself a lot, mostly when he does something or thinks through a problem

It's mostly to exteriorize all the noise inside his head tho

The others aren't as weirded out by it than he feared, and he's thankful for it

Whenever they're in a market or just in a town, he always finds himself drawn to craftsmanship

Like if they need to interrogate people about monsters and stuff, he'll go ask artisans mostly

He feels more comfortable around them

It feels like home

Also he likes to compare his work to other blacksmith's

He feels like he has a lot to learn still, and he's very curious about how the craft has evolved with time

He doesn't know first aid and the scent of blood makes him sick, but if his teammates need tending he'll do his best

He tries to see their wounds as metal work needing repairs

It helps him keep his cool

But he'd rather leave it to someone else

Hyrule

Another early riser, but he hates it

He loves sleeping in and wishes his body would let him sometimes

But oh well, when it's time to wake up it's time to wake up

He's a very light sleeper too, like the wind blowing in the leaves above would wake him up

He hates it

Botany nerd

Loves keeping track of the new plants he finds along the way

He always asks the Link from the Hyrule they're in if he knows about it, and will pick them up if he can't get an answer, to study them later hopefully

He rarely can, but when they have a moment he'll either find a plant book (and a Link who can read it for him) or straight up ask someone if they know about the plant

He's always so polite and genuinely curious, people can't help but answer

He accidentally set Sky's stuff on fire once when showing off his fire magic to Wind

Sky was too impressed to truly be mad at him tho

(Also Hyrule replaced all of the stuff that couldn't be repaired, don't ask him how)

He doesn't mind blood and grime and gore, but can't handle anything with maggots in it

He'll stitch up anything, he'll put bones back in place if necessary, but one bug? In a wound? Don't count on him

He can keep his calm even before the grossest injuries, which is why he's often fixing up the others after a fight

He rarely uses his healing magic tho, he knows he'll tire too easily, and he can't help them if he can barely stay awake

So potions potions potions

He's a gentle caregiver but you better do as he says when you're hurt

Legend

A heavy sleeper, and he dreams a lot, but he never remember them

Probably for the best if you ask him

He usually wakes late, but never truly rested unfortunately

That never stoped him from being immediately efficient and fully awake tho

He knows he has a reputation of being sharp and closed off, but he's a really good listener

He's the kind of person curse the world with you when you vent until you're in the right headspace to find a solution

He kind of encourages the others in their dumbest ideas just to see what'll happen

(not the too dangerous ones, of course)

But he's curious, and after all the adventures he's been through, he believes that if he survived all of this, surely Wild will survive trying to cook a bomb flower

He did, but Twilight almost died of stress

He's the one who helps Warrior with refilling their inventory when they're low on supplies

He's a great negotiator and can get them twice the supplies for the same price

He's sometimes even charming enough to get them all a free meal

It's his favorite skill

He doesn't mind blood but will not look at broken limbs

Not his own, not other's

He tries to keep his cool around the others to not make them panic, but he really hates broken bones

If one of them is hurt, he'll try to distract them and make sure they have water and enough heat

He'll also keep them in place if they move around too much for Hyrule or Warrior to work on them

He's not gentle, but he's still reassuring somehow

#linked universe #linked universe headcanons #lu headcanons #lu writing #lu four #lu hyrule #lu legend #i hope its good #im gonna write the rest of them now wish me luck lol

[h3rmess]

COLLAPSE

-> 1✰Geto Suguru

LASER LIGHTS ☆

"ignore it 'til I feel alright."

I'm not really sure when it started. It might have been when Satoru and I were sent out on yet another mission, the gravity of which being way too much for people of our age to handle.

Or, it may have been on an earlier occasion when I was promoted to special grade following my evaluation after the exchange event. The gravity of that title held a great responsibility within it : to help the weak.

Gravity. The force constantly acts upon us on a daily basis. The vector quantity that holds both direction and magnitude. The magnitude of the situations only seemed to grow, and I only seemed to be moving backwards, deeper and deeper into a pool of depression.

"Your job as Jujutsu sorcerers is to help the weak. Save those who can't save themselves."

So what happens when I need help? Who's going to save me? Do I rely on another sorcerer to put me out of my misery?

Being the strongest is nothing but a curse. Living every day knowing everyone is counting on you to help when no one else can. Being the first and last resort in all situations. Having responsibilities that, if given to any other human, would eat them alive and leave nothing but blood splatters on the floor.

Why me? Why did I have to be the strongest? I can't save everyone. I can't save anyone.

Satoru seemed to be doing a little better than me. By a little, I mean a lot. He had become the strongest. He was able to laugh and joke so casually about these topics. Meanwhile, they cause my stomach acid to burn my guts. Thank a sheltered childhood for that. Being the family's pride and joy must have been great for him. Not having to climb his way up must have been amazing. Being born the strongest, never once having to doubt his ability because it came so naturally and effortlessly. He must love his life.

He was being sent on more missions on his own. Naturally, this meant that I, too, had to be sent on more missions alone.

Every day was torture for me.

We were unsure of how it came about, but the frequent disaster of the last year probably played a role. Cursed spirits were springing up like maggots.

Exorcise, absorb. Over and over. Exorcise, absorb.

The more curses we killed, the more I had to absorb to remain the strongest. Once you're at the top, you can't back down. Do you know what it's like to absorb curses? It's like eating a rag that's been used to clean up vomit and shit. It makes me sick to my stomach.

Exorcise, absorb. Who am I doing this for?

Maybe it was the pressure of being strong. Or, it could have been the frequency of our missions. Before I knew it, dark circles were forming under my eyes. Sleep became a foreign concept to me. Something that i yearned for dearly. So many people had died.

Soon enough, my meals started to look unappetising too. Revolting clumps of farmed rubbish put together to be consumed. Curses. Revolting lumps of negative emotions put together to be consumed.

Nobody understands.

I kept it under wraps in front of the others, remaining inconspicuous at all costs. The strong can't help the strong.

It seemed to be getting better for a while. But then, Gojo was evolving. He was learning things I knew I could never do. His pace was immense. He picked it up so easily. I tried to keep up. I was losing my speed.

Satoru had it so easy. He never had to think about anything the way I did. His technique was spoon-fed to him, served on a golden platter. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. I had nothing. I was nothing. Amongst the entirety of Jujutsu society, not once would you hear anyone say, "Geto Suguru is so strong!" "He's the strongest!" It was always Satoru. Always him who would block my only hope at being the strongest. Always him who would block my chance at being a decent human being. Getting the recognition I deserve rather than being drenched in a boundless sea of tasks once one had been completed. I was never once thanked for my work. I thought I didn't need it. That was until he came and stole it all from me. I hated it. I hated being weak! I hated Gojo Satoru.

Or at least that was my justification for the events that occurred on that fateful day.

I had found myself at the lowest point in my life. I was heavily torn between being able to save one person or an entire population. It was a tough decision to make. Did I want to continue saving people indefinitely, or did I want to get it all done with in one go? To me, the more logical answer was the latter. Re-educating the entire country of Japan would be near impossible. What if there were people like Zenin who had no cursed energy? What, then? Would I be forced to save all the non-sorcerers again?

Then it hit me. The root of my problem. No matter how much I tried to stray from it, it was always right in front of me. The cause of all of my misery. The reason why I was so malnourished. The reason why I found myself in this position in the first place. Those non-sorcerers. The useless beings who couldn't do so much as defend themselves against curses that didn't even qualify for grade 4. The people with no cursed energy who lived their lives in ignorance, not knowing of the mental and physical torment some of us endured daily. Those damn monkeys. Those sub human creatures! They were the issue! The bane of my existence.

And so, my plan to rebuild the nation of Japan was put into action. I needed to wipe out all of the monkeys and build a new world ; a world of jujutsu sorcerers. That way, everyone could defend themselves. I would be putting the weak out of their misery. It would limit the number of deaths from cursed spirits. A small sacrifice like this in the grand scheme of things wouldn't hurt, right?

I killed an entire village. They all went up in flames. It felt amazing. Never once before in my life had I felt such joy, such untainted happiness. I knew that this was for the greater good, and that's what fueled me. That's what drove me to save two girls and build a family where we all shared one common goal - obliterate the monkeys and bring about a change.

Needless to say, I was expelled from Jujutsu Tech, and everyone was after my head. They really didn't get it, did they? They didn't see the bigger picture at all.

And that's when Satoru got involved. He had found out about my massacre and was not pleased, to say the least. Screaming at me on the streets like some uncivil beast. A savage dog spewing bullshit with every word he spoke.

"You know it would be impossible!" He screamed, and I stopped.

I had been blocking out what he was saying, but that combination of words was the straw that broke the camels back for me.

Impossible? He thinks it's impossible? Satoru Gojo, who, with his hollow purple, could wipe out the entirety of Japan. He thinks it's impossible?

Don't make me laugh.

That arrogant bastard. Saying that something is impossible even though he could do it with minimal effort?

How hypocritical.

It must be nice to be so sheltered that you have deluded yourself into completely disregarding your heritage and cursed technique when talking to others. To wholly be able to forget about being strong and try to make yourself appear as if you are anywhere near the level of ther jujutsu sorcerers.

It must be amazing.

He knows that he could do it, and yet he doesn't want to admit it.

Is this the power the strong have? All along, it wasn't about cursed energy or cursed technique, but your ability to manipulate those inferior to you.

Satoru was very crafty indeed.

But two could play at that game. If he thought he was the only one who could manipulate and alter someone thinking, he was dearly mistaken.

"Are you the strongest because you're Satoru Gojo? Or are you Satoru Gojo because you're the strongest?"

The words flowed from the deepest part of my heart, a feeling awakened by his ignorance to his own strength.

No, it wasn't ignorance. It was Satoru being pitiful towards the weak, sympathising with us as if he was anywhere near our level. We are merely lowly peasants compared to him.

He acted surprised at my words, telling me everything I needed to know. If I wanted to progress in my mission, I had to let go of my past self, strip myself down until I was nothing, and rebuild a better version of myself. Only then would I be able to achieve my goal. Only then would it be possible to wake up one day without feeling like the world could come crashing down at any second.

I left my best friend that day. The only one who understood me until that point. It had only been us.

I had to start anew, to build a world in which only sorcerers exist. That way, arrogant brats like Satoru wouldn't have free reign over the weak, and my mind would be at ease.

Just a little longer. Everything will fall into place.

m.list

navi☆

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #sugusato #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #satosugu #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #collapse #laser lights #jujutsu nanami #haibara yu #jujutsu shoko #utahime iori #mei mei #hidden inventory arc #teen gojo #teen geto #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro toji

[pokidot]

MANDELA — twelve

wc: 1,473

“Get in. This is the last time I ever waste my time for some rando.”

Kuni was the first to exit the convenience store. He opened his vehicle door with a force strong enough that the rest of them were surprised it didn't fly off the handles.

You aided in his tyrant wake of destruction by pushing and nudging Hu Tao towards the door, leaving her to fervently panic. "Look, I can't say it out in public, alright?! This is a secret operation, and you're seriously going to blow my cover—”

"Cover? That's what you're worried about, a cover?" Kuni scoffed, "Your cover was to no avail once you got your tears and snot on my very expensive car."

"Did you have to add that it was very expensive?" You said, looking away with half-lidded eyes.

She strode mighty out of the convenience store, the welcoming beacon of neon lights clashing with the sunlight rising. "I can't believe you're the one triggered, I had to almost dig my eyes out with a spoon."

"Oh, we're complaining now? You can stay here, if you'd like. I'm sure you'll love scraping maggots off the floor in the back." But as the silence made emphasis, he grinned.

Hu Tao gasped, holding her manicured fingers towards her lips, her reddened eyes in slight fear. “Are you implying there’s dead bodies in there right now?”

“I’m implying that it’s an extremely unsanitary condition that only a rat would think to be around.” He replied. “Oh wait, I see some similarities now.”

"Okay, can we relax?"

Hu Tao gasped, backing up. "You used your hairspray-nuclear...practice missile thing on the wrong person, buddy. I feel like your dog is ten seconds away from turning me into a chew toy."

"You are really suspicious." You shrugged.

"I'm not!"

"Yeah, you are~ You little sussy-wussy, you." You said while poking at her cheek, swaying your shoulders humorously. “Just get in the car, he’s not gonna bite you. I am!”

You nudged the girl’s shoulder again, closer and closer towards the inside of the car, shutting the door behind her and looking towards Kuni again. Your eyebrows raised.

You knew he knew about suspicion, but in your eyes, suspicion was looking back at you too. “Stop scarin’ our livestock, Johnny. We ain’t gonna have none left.” You said to him in a country accent.

He shouldn't have been seething, but something about Hu Tao’s general disposition irked him. “She’s a creep. If you were alone I wouldn’t be surprised if she sold you to the Fatui.”

“I know, but we gotta lay low!” You threw your hands up. “We can’t just be outing our business to the entire wild west! You think word don’t spread around these parts?” You said while motioning towards the vast land of nothing besides the road and the tumbleweeds in the distance.

"Stop doing that voice. And don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” Kuni’s eyes moved back towards the rest of the group. “We can’t afford to take chances when we have a pack of idiots with us.”

“Spoken as if I didn’t collaborate the pack of idiots.” You stuck your tongue out sarcastically. “If we’re really talking, I can’t afford anything.”

You drew closer to the rest of the group. “We’re going straight in. Ready?”

“You’re not listening to me.” Kuni’s voice drew out in a louder tone, his annoyance lingering on his tongue. "This is a really bad idea that will get worse, I'm warning you!"

“Damn, for some reason I hear a very annoying ringing! Hope it GETS BACK IN THE CAR SOON.” You responded, ending with a shout, that made Kuni's lip twitch in malcontent.

"...Wow." Kuni scoffed, ultimately listening and retreating back to the drivers seat.

Your head turned back to the group, grin slack on your face. “He’s so happy to be here.”

The group's faces held an air of expectation, but as they all exchanged glances, Heizou's gaze remained fixed. It was like a tapestry unraveled in his brain. "Question," He paused with uncertainty. "We're keeping a hostage with us because...?"

"Okay, chill out." You rolled your eyes. "She can't be a hostage if she attacked me first. Keep up."

"Keep up?!" Heizou's jaw fell slack. "Is your head on right? What if someone is looking for her? We led a paper trail to the rest of us. Then we have blood on our hands, we can't let anybody know we're going into Mori Grove!"

"It'll be fine! This is the best possible outcome." You grinned. "Plus, if I get what I want, we may have further investigation to look into."

"And you're happy?" Aether hesitated. "Like...with the risk?"

"Are you kidding? I'm so happy, I almost forgot I owe the government 500,000 mora." You chortled, the chuckle slowly fading as your face fell. "Almost."

"I thought you said that you weren't in debt?" Kazuha blinked.

There was a sudden tremor in your expression, begging Kazuha not to simmer the burn any further with your pleading eyes. The boy could only nod slowly. "Right...nevermind."

"Oh~ I love when cute people are financially vulnerable." Venti cooed.

"Oh my gosh, not here!" You dramatically replied, making a shooing motion with your hand.

"Well, this was a ridiculously unnecessary amount of time we wasted." Xiao's eyebrow cocked up in disdain. "You better have a good plan."

The car glided up the winding path heading to a cabin not too far from the village itself. It remained nestled in the ominous thicket of the forest, remaining eerie enough for the fog not to clear from the open acres of land. The road was beginning to close from the leeway, but thanks to Venti’s very convincing (and seductive) reasoning, the patrol let them through.

The headlights, like a piercing cat's eyes, provide fleeting glimpses of the ancient trees as it starts to stop along the pathway. There was something wrong with the atmosphere, and that itself was a reminder to Kuni that his stoic mood was necessary.

He turn the key out of the ignition, his eyes made a small glimpse at the sun that was no longer on the horizon before watching the second car with the others approach the other side of the pathway onto the grassy texture.

There was a noticeable sense of presence that was left, like an unseen spectator watching from the windows, their group unknowing that they were there. But before he was about to mention such, he was snapped out of his focus by Hu Tao's nervous chuckle.

There was an imminent silence amongst the three, before Hu Tao laughed nervously, eyes darting around the area. "Haha, well it's been a blast getting to know all of you within...two-ish? Hours, buuuuttt I really gottaaaa-"

"Shut up. You're not going anywhere." You cut her off, your hand reaching for the car door to open it and get out. "Kuni, watch her. I'll get the equipment."

Hearing a small sound of protest from the former, you grunted and shut the door, having felt your nerves on edge as soon as you got here. The home built out of wood stood tall, intimidating in its nature, being the lonesome home.

You wrapped the band of the camera around your neck, hooking on the gear and shoving the spare lens in your pocket, digging for spare handcuffs while the rest of the group approached you.

"Hold this. Can someone knock on the door? She said she would be here." You asked, putting a wad of paper towels and coins into Aether's hand.

"What are you- oh! okay!" Aether was met with anything he could have expected from you: a pair of handcuffs. "Where did you even get those?"

"Stole 'em."

Aether, looking extremely uncomfortable, gave a small cough. "Just a...heads up for next time would be good, okay?"

"Not kink stuff. This is for her." You motioned your head towards the girl who was coming out of the car, being stalked upon by Kuni, who didn't look too pleased either.

You quickly snapped the cuffs on each hand one at a time, to which Hu Tao's mouth dropped. "Handcuffs. Handcuffs? I think you're taking this way too far."

"Yeah? Should've thought about that when you lied to me."

"What, all because I can't tell you what I was doing?! I'm not trying to sabotage your investigation, I swear!" Hu Tao said in a slightly pleading tone.

"Pull your weight if you want out." You leaned closer to her with a hiss to your tone, causing her to draw back slowly. "You're going to wait until we're finished, and THEN I'll decide if I'm feeling generous enough to uncuff you."

You drew your finger back from her face, stepping back and heading towards the wooden door. Hu Tao was frozen in disbelief, along with Aether who slowly murmured towards her. "They didn't put me up to this, I swear."

Kuni, mildly proud of you as his eyebrows rose in delight, nudged Hu Tao and Aether towards the rest of the group. "Move it.”

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES || hey! if anybody saw the other one... no u didn't ! <3 PLEASE NO UYOU DIDN'T (but if you did then u know smth others dont oh well lol)

TAGLIST: @wisteriarain @akagism2 @murderisokayforme @aeongiies @d4y-dr3am3r @truck-kuns-gf @3lysiaa @ayoitsmarie33 @crucnhice @natsuscrustyscarf @dreamsofminnie @astreaa-express @goj0h @miraculin @xirthia @kylexzz @dollpoetwriting @dreamingkace @strawbxrrytiger @k1an4a @itzblazekun

#✮ emily writes #genshin fanfic #genshin modern au #genshin #genshin smau #self insert #smau #social media au #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin social media au #venti #kazuha #xiao #heizou #aether #scaramouche #scara #kuni

[nexustherexus]

A LITTLE THING IM WORKING ON. ALL THE TWS

The odor of blood and decay suffocates Adam as it radiates throughout the pitch-black bathroom.

Zep's lifeless body lies a few feet in front of him, his body bloated and discolored, he vaguely feels maggots squirm on his ankle, eating away at the dying flesh around the raw welts but he can't bring himself to care.

Adam shivers as he leans against the cold pipe of the bathroom, the bullet wound on his shoulder burns as it rubs against the fabric of his shirt, causing him to groan and squeeze his eyes shut in pain.

In his feverish daze, he wonders if Lawrence will come back for him.

He promised, Lawrence promised, he wouldn't lie to him.

Would he?

Adam stares at his hands in front of him as he flickers in and out of consciousness, they shake violently.

Adam feels his hunger deep in his bones, leaving him aching and weak. He lets his head fall into his weak hands, furiously shaking as he begins to hear an all too familiar voice.

"I wouldn't lie to you” a familiar voice whispers harshly against his ear. Despite the words being said, the voice makes every muscle in Adam tense in fear.

"You're not real, shut up!" Adam grits out between clenched teeth, his voice dry and strained as it echoes throughout the empty bathroom, his fingers itch for a cigarette now more than ever.

“It doesn't matter now, does it? You're dying Adam” The doctor's calm voice says, devoid of any emotion.

As Adam attempts to hold back the tears that threaten to fall, he clamps his hands over his ears roughly to muffle the echoing whispers of Lawrence.

It doesn't help, his voice sounds just as close and clear as it did before.

Tears start to fall off Adam's sunken cheeks and sharp jaw as he finally breaks out in sobs, strained apologies, and confessions are whispered frantically.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry” Adam cries as his wails echo around the bathroom, “I want to live, please let me live, please come back” he whispers as his grip around his ears tightens.

Adam passes out with his head in between his arms for what has to be hours before he jumps up, woken up to bloodcurdling screams echoing all around him, his skull vibrates from the volume as he recognizes Zep's screams, the screams he caused.

But Zep was dead.

Wasn't he?

Adam slowly opens his eyes (when did he close them?) and looks a few feet in front of him where Zep’s corpse is supposed to be, he can smell the decaying flesh and the metallic blood covering them but Zep's body is gone, even in the dark bathroom he can tell that Zep’s body is gone.

Adam strains his eyes to make out the details in the darkness, he frantically looks around as things come into focus, Zep had to be in the bathroom with him.

He remembers the feeling of warm blood splattering onto him, covering him in the sticky red substance. He remembers when Zepp’s skull cracked under him as his adrenaline-filled body smashed, smashed, smashed away Zep’s only chance at life.

Adam looked around the bathroom as best as he could when he noticed a glint of metal in the bathtub, and sure enough, Zep's rotting corpse lay at the bottom of the bathtub with his gun lying in his left hand and his tape on top of his chest. Adam reaches his arm towards Zep's gun and just as his fingers whisper over the handle of the pistol Zep's rotting arm reaches up and grabs the small of his wrist with bruising strength.

“There are rules” Zep’s corpse whispers as he yanks Adam by the wrist roughly, making him hiss.

“you should be dead,” the corpse whispers calmly, “You wanted to die” Zep digs his blood-covered fingernails deep into Adam’s wrist, Adam winces and uses the rest of his strength to rip his wrist out of Zep's hold and sink back into the corner, laying his head against the chilled pipe behind him.

Zep continues to whisper nonsense Adam can't quite make out through the pounding of his head, bright hot pain shocks him as it runs through his body in a wave.

~NOT DONE~

#saw franchise #saw 2004 #saw movies #fanfic #saw fanfic #oneshot #cw: gore #adam stanheight #adam faulkner stanheight #zep hindle #dead body

[brainpal-gachapon]

Hi can i get a (small) system of brain made alters? no ramcoa programs please! tysm !!

Under cut since it's pretty long lol.

Meet Glen! The subsystem's host!

Name(s): Glen, Wilfred, Roxxie, Gwen, Glass, Gayna

Prns: mirror pronouns

Gender(s): pangender

Species: human/aligator hybrid

TransID(s): transwheelchairuser, transpunk, permaneonhair, translesbian, transsinger, transrockstar, nullcaneuser, transcharacter (Monty from FNAF, or your choice if you would prefer someone else!), permasunglasses, transscene, perma2020's

Age: identifies with the main body's chronoage and ages with it

Role(s) (if you want them): host, conference holder

Meet Mico! The god that's just trying its best to be an actual god.

Name(s): Mico, Milo, Zombie, Will, Billie, Melod, Stare, Name

Prns: it/its, god/gods, watch/watches, see/sees, eye/eyes, all/alls, pan/pans, sky/skys, star/stars, above/above, fly/flys, better/betters

Gender(s): godagender

Species: chrono biblically accurate angel, transgod

TransID(s): transageless, transgod, transhpd (cis and trans), pantrans, transpanpara, transfultleader, transfamous, transworshipped, transfloatingeyes

Age: transageless, chrono53, godage

Role(s) (if you want them): persecutor + cohost + npd and hpd holder (all of the Subsystem (and/or main system) experiences it)

Meet Maxx! The "just a normal guy" sysmate. Literally he's that. His job is to help mask around folx that aren't accepting of the others (and main system's) identities.

Name(s): Max(x), Jack(son), John, Josh, Tom, Bobby

Prns: he/him

Gender(s): guy

Species: human

TransID(s): transnormal

Age: 23

Role(s) (if you want them): primary protector, masker

Meet Casper! The subsystem's trauma holder plus protector if Maxx can't handle something.

Name(s): Casper, Spook, Gasp, Ghost, Horror

Prns: it/its, that/thats, gho/ghost, void/voids

Gender(s): gendernull

Species: ghost + shapeshifter (but can only turn into objects)

TransID(s): polycorpus, transweightless, permabruised, transnightcore, chronicpainbloodic, transchronicwastingdisease, transcolorblind, transaddict, transballjointdoll, permahalloween, transwicca

Age: ghostage + agenull

Role(s) (if you want them): trauma holder, protector, emergency fronter

Meet Cringe!

Name(s): Cringe, Elliot, Maggot, Blood, Moss, Bones, Arson, Alex, Loki

Prns: any

Gender(s): genderfluid, transtrender (reclaimed)

Species: speciesfuck

TransID(s): transintersex, trans🗺, transidol, transadhd, transautism, permabunnyhat, trans2000, transscene, permaroleplay, transnice, permamakeup, transpower

Age: permateen, teenfluid

Role(s) (if you want them): fixholder, gayxenorole, heartbeat

#headmate pack #rq 🌈🍓 #alter packs #headmate creation #headmatepack #pro rq 🌈🍓 #alter creation #transplural #rq safe #rqc🌈🍓 #mod vox/cringe #build a headmate #build a alter #build an alter

[gravegroves]

I've been spending quite a lot of my time in hospital lately, it's not been a fun time. I recently saw a post floating around about what would have happened if Billy had died the night he was injected (if anyone knows of it, feel free to message me so I can properly credit). Seeing as I have nothing but hours laying in hospital beds, I wrote this thing.

Where Billy basically turns into a vengeful ghost. Not happy, you've been warned. CW: death, disturbing imagery, revenge, vengeful ghost!Billy

*****

They drag his body out into the woods.

No one cares to check to see if he's even still breathing. The blue of his lips would have been a dead giveaway, but the dark of night hides a lot of things.

Like a goddamn body.

He walks beside the kids, watches his own booted heels carve a groove into the earth because even between the four of them his body is too heavy to lift, so they drag him through the undergrowth like a sack of shit.

Not far. But far enough.

Maybe they do know he's dead. Maybe Max meant to kill him all along.

They get his body away from the house and the road, deep enough into the woods that no one would have a hope in hell of spotting him unless they went looking.

And they leave him there.

"Asshole can walk home when he wakes up." Max pants before they sprint back the way they came without a backwards glance. Billy wants to run after them, scream, demand that they come back and do something, but he knows with a soul deep certainty that whatever force is keeping him in this limbo is also keeping him tethered to his body. Knows this because the second he woke up in this new state he immediately tried to turn around and leave. Got as far as the driveway where the groove of Harrington's ass-print was still visible in the dirt, when he'd realised he had walked through the Byers's front door, right before he then walked into an invisible but impenetrable wall.

He'd gone back inside —through the door again when reaching for the handle had been the same as reaching for air— just in time to see the little shits preparing to drag his body out into the woods.

No one had noticed his entrance or the screaming that followed.

He wonders if they'll drag Harrington out to join him. If they'll remember that the night is fucking freezing and to bring Billy back a jacket. If he wasn't already dead he could've easily died from hypothermia.

They never do.

He hears the distant sounds of cars occasionally, of people, of things he can't quite place.

But no one comes back for him.

Not for a long, long time.

*****

The circle gets wider the more his body decomposes.

He can't stand to look at it. The sockets sunken. His long eyelashes fanning over milky, half-lidded eyes staring unseeingly up at the treetops. Gangly, awkward sprawl the same as the day he'd been left there. The cold winter does a good job of preserving his body. No roiling maggot infestations or flies to drive him more insane than he already feels.

When he stops actively working against it, his apparition changes to match that of his physical body, slowly rotting along with it. Losing pieces of himself.

Every time he feels a loose bit of skin sloughing off, it takes everything in him to force his form back to the one he had on the might of his death. He'd joke about looking his very best that night, that at least he had that going for him, but all it takes is for his mind to wander for a moment and the effect slowly wears off again.

Nowadays, Billy's mind does almost nothing but wander.

He's circled the impenetrable wall more times than he can count, looking for a weakness, a tiny crack that he might dig his rotting fingers into and tug to grant him an extra bit of freedom. Every time he walks out to check again, the circle is a couple of inches further out.

Weeks pass.

The circle gains six feet.

He's going fucking insane.

With nothing but anger and betrayal and his own rotting fucking corpse for company, he stews in a broth of raw, hateful emotions for so long it feels like there isn't much left of him besides the fury and the need to check his circle.

He won't see California again for sixteen-and-a-half thousand years at this inch-an-hour rate.

Billy calculated that.

He cries. He begs. He screams. His throat never tires and he never runs out of air, and the forest simply continues to calmly exist, undisturbed, because Billy Hargrove is a goddamn ghost.

And ghosts can't do shit.

*****

It's a particularly fucked up kind of torture that Billy can hear the louder going-on's at the Byers house, a tantalising break in his monotony hovering just beyond his reach. He can't see the house for the thicket yet, instead he stands as close as the ring allows him when he knows the mother —Joyce— leaves for the day to go to work and again when she comes home. Or when her eldest boy Jonathan plays his music loud enough to be heard throughout the entire area.

Billy hopes every time to hear even just a hint of something to keep him grounded in reality.

It doesn't work. (Jonathan's taste in music is pretentious at best, depressing at worst, Billy almost prefers the silence.)

One time he thinks he hears the kids —MaxMaxMAX— come to visit Will and he howls in anger, throws himself against the circle and claws at the invisible limit to get at them all.

I'm here! I'm here, right where you left me you fucking shitheads!

No one comes to check, which means that no one hears him.

Billy thinks about what he's going to do to them all once his circle is wide enough.

He smacks his head violently against the invisible wall.

There is no pain.

His teeth sure do look white against rotted leaves, though.

*****

By the time Hopper finds him, his circle is about to breach the treeline by the road.

Billy feels the man the second he steps into the circle, like a spider's Web, the very air buzzes closest to where he pushes into Billy's territory, needling at his mind until he goes to check on the intruder and does something to make it leave.

Make it stay.

Make it pay.

He's been so focused on that widening ring —staring at the last mark he dug into the ground to indicate his limits and checking obsessively for new inches gained— that he hadn't even heard the new car pull up into the Byers' driveway.

He moves back from the treeline —so tantalisingly close to where he might get to see people and cars again— and stalks through tree trunks, branches and leaves without disturbing a single one and finds police Chief Hopper bent over something on the forest floor.

"Hey!" Billy barks, momentarily stunned by the warped tone of his own voice. The man doesn't react, still bent over what Billy now realises is the matching heel grooves from when Billy was dragged into this torturous corner of the shittiest town in America.

Hopper's eyes follow the trail until it disappears behind a tightly knit group of trees and looks tempted to follow it.

Billy almost vibrates with excitement.

"That's it piggy," He hisses, voice the groan of trees cracking in a storm, circling the oblivious man like a starving lion with no teeth or claws to make a meal of him. Blood oozes from his gaping maw like drool.

"Follow the fucking trail and get me the hell out of here!"

The man doesn't hear a word of course, and he sure does take his sweet time. Checking the trees of all things —for what, Billy doesn't know— and using a stick to poke the dirt in front of him like he's expecting it to cave under his weight. Slowly, though, he makes his way closer to where Billy's body lies forgotten.

He's so close.

Just a bit more.

"Don't you leave me here you dumb bastard, don't you fucking leave me here," Billy rattles over and over again, a curse and mantra all in one, anger turned to simmering. If the cop doesn't find him now, it may be months or even years, before someone comes this way again and Billy doesn't know how much more of this hellish existence he can take.

He wonders if Max really could be stupid enough to think he'd wake up and simply run away without the camaro.

She must know. She left me here without even coming back to check. She knows where I am and told NO ONE.

Just a little further...

Hopper stops again.

The anger boils over.

Billy strides right up to the man and lashes out, but his hand connects with nothing. Billy howls in frustration, but watches as a meaty hand comes up to absentmindedly scratch at the place Billy had tried to tear open with his useless ghost hands.

Something cocks it's head in Billy's mind.

But then Hopper turns the corner.

And things go pretty quickly from there.

*****

The chief calls in his find to the station.

He doesn't touch Billy's body, but he doesn't leave him there alone, either. Billy appreciates it in a way, it feels like something he would do when he was alive, yet it does nothing to calm the ever burning pit in his belly.

Hopper sits himself down on a fallen log and stares down at Billy's corpse with tired eyes and Billy can't tell if they're sad or if the man is simply annoyed about the extra hours he's gonna have to pull tonight.

It doesn't really matter.

Billy begins circling him again.

It feels like Hopper is prey, but Billy still can't quite figure out how to eat him.

The pit burns hotter. The anger yawns wider.

Hungry.

He brings up a finger to dip in the blood around his mouth and grins wider than humanly possible, splitting the sides of his face when a bloody B.H. slowly stains black against the dark blue of the back of Hopper's officer jacket.

Billy can work with this.

*****

The morgue is a dismal fucking place, filled with geeks too excited about dead people for Billy to stand hanging around, no longer than it takes for his body to get stored away with a tag around his big toe.

His circle thankfully keeps it's distance and continues to grow.

It almost feels like tending to a garden, the way he runs his palm against the smooth surface of the invisible wall as he walks along it, encouraging it with soft hisses of the names of all the people who are going to pay for what has happened to him.

MAXNEILSUSANHARRINGTONSINCLAIRHENDERSONWHEELERKARENMOMMAXNEILSUSANHARRINGTONSINCLAIRHENDERSONWHEELERKARENMOMMAXNEILSUSANHARRINGTONSINCLAIRHENDERSONWHEELERKARENMOMMAXNEILSUSANHARRINGTONSINCLAIRHENDERSONWHEELERKARENMOM—

On and on it goes.

He checks out the neighbourhood after another round along the circle's edge, weeding out the people all buzzing in his web. None of them ping his radar quite like Hopper did, but they are more than good enough for a little practise.

Billy needs to be ready.

*****

"He appears to have been injected with quite a high dose of sodium thiopental. The extremely high dosage coupled with a quick injection can cause extreme respiratory distress," A bead of the mortician's sweat makes its way down his face towards his nose to hang precariously at the tip.

If it lands on Billy's body, Billy will have another name to add to his garden.

"He suffocated before the drug overdose even had the chance kill him. Then he was left outside with barely any clothes in the winter. This kid was triple dead. If it wasn't one, then it was the other two."

Billy watches Hopper massage the bridge of his nose for a while, his shoulders slumped. Then the man seems to pull himself together with monumental effort and reaches for a folder marked with Billy's name.

"Billy Hargrove. Age 17. Lived with his father, step-mother and step-sister at 4819 Cherry Lane. Last seen by Karen Wheeler on the night of November 5th getting into his Camaro and heading out to the Byers residence to pick up his step sister Max Mayfield. According to the family, the car has been outside of their residence since the day after he was last seen."

"Last seen by Max Mayfield, dead in the fucking woods," Billy spits. A tiny droplet of blood sprays onto Hopper's face. The man absentmindedly wipes it away, unaware of the streak it leaves behind on his cheek.

He flicks to the next page. Clears his throat.

"Drag marks at the crime scene indicate he was dragged from the road into the forest and then dumped..."

"Liar!" Billy roars, "they led into that goddamn house, you know they did!"

He sweeps a hand over the scalpels and instruments lying on a tray next to the guerny and watches in fascination as they all go tumbling to the floor.

Hopper and the sweaty mortician freeze in place.

Oh.

After a second of stunned silence, Billy pounces.

Hopper takes the full brunt of his attack right to the chest, toppling backwards and landing half on top of Billy's corpse while Billy's spirit sits on his chest and squeezes down on his throat.

"Liar!" Billy wails, "you fucking LIAR! Why are you lying?! They killed me! You know they killed me!"

Liar Liar Liar Liar

Liar Liar Liar

Liar Liar Liar

Liar Liar Liar

Beside them, his corpse opens it's mouth and screeches with whatever vocal cords it has left.

"LIAAAARRHGG."

"Jesus Christ!" The mortician stumbles back into the corner of the room where he cowers in fear. "Chief Hopper, are you--"

The lights start flickering.

"Let's see how you like it," Billy hisses and squeezes down as hard as he can.

The hunger is worse than ever, he needs to...

All of a sudden, whatever source of power Billy manages to tap into vanishes, leaving him standing half inside the guerny and half inside Hopper who is gasping for air and clutching at his throat.

Billy reaches out as if on instinct and plunges his claws into Hopper's very soul. Latching on like a fucking parasite and begins to feed on the fear he can feel coursing through him.

Billy laughs.

Oh yes, this he can definitely work with.

*****

MAXNEILSUSANHARRINGTONSINCLAIRHENDERSONWHEELERKARENMOMMAXNEILSUSANHARRINGTONSINCLAIRHENDERSONWHEELERKARENMOMHOPPER—

*****

His circle is still there. Ever-growing. Calling out to him, but Billy can leave it now if he attaches himself to someone else, someone living who leaves it.

He digs his claws into Hopper with a fierce cruelty, sits on his shoulders and hopes the man can feel the weight pressing him down like gravity.

Like a bad conscience.

Hopper knows something is wrong, but he seems to be determined to power through the incident at the mortuary. Billy can feel the weariness. Maybe he's been through something like this before?

Billy doesn't care.

He can manipulate his world now, as long as he maintains his hate with every fibre of his being, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

Easy fucking peasy.

*****

Hopper drives to Cherry Lane and Billy howls with hunger the entire way there, digging his fingers deeper into Hopper with excitement, enough to have the man rubbing at his shoulder every few minutes.

They're almost there.

He can't wait to stuff his fingers into Neil's mouth and rip his jaw from his face. Tear his heart out and smear it along the walls with dents in them that perfectly match parts of Billy's body. Maybe make Susan scream before he rips out the tongue she never did find a use for when it counted.

And Max...

She answers the door when Hopper knocks, looking so fucking normal it burns Billy to look at her.

You killed me and left me where no one would find me and told NO ONE.

He decides she will be first after all.

And slowly let's himself be revealed to her.

She stares at him, perched on Hopper's shoulders, coiled around his head, twisting his neck unnaturally to whisper spitefully into the man's ear.

Hopper rubs at his neck.

Billy makes sure to catch Max's gaze, lets her see his form morphing, slowly rotting to match that of his corpse, blood dripping from his mouth down onto Hopper's shoulder, milky eyes staring at her with all the hatred she left him to stew in, boiled down to a lava-like sludge in the pit of his soul, about to set hard like glass and shatter just as sharp.

Max gasps a sob.

Billy smiles and lets a few teeth scatter to the floor.

This is where it'll start.

MAXNEILSUSANHARRINGTONSINCLAIRHENDERSONWHEELERKARENMOMMAXNEILSUSANHARRINGTONSINCLAIRHENDERSONWHEELERKARENMOMHOPPER—

They're all going to fucking pay.

Billy pounces.

#i don't even know how to tag this #this ain't happy #gravegroves writes #billy gets his revenge

[serpulalacrymans]

how does fucking a corpse feel like?like..do you pay no mind to the germs and possibility that there are maggots? Do their cold lifeless bodies bother you or does it turn you on even more?

Ttt Ssshhhhh! No one's fucking anything! That's a horrible thing to say!

...It's not just sex..

It's a connection. It's an apology. It's giving love. It's anything I need it to be. Any excuse I need it to be. I know it's wrong, but I've.. never felt closer to humanity than.. Than when I had a partner.. I never hurt them with the intention of doing that, I don't mean to do it a lot anyway, it just.. I get overwhelmed when I see them so still. I like feeling good, too.. It feels.. Like me.. When they're..

I like it when they go stiff. I like it when their lips turn blue, but a lot of them don't.. I don't like the stares. I can't handle their eyes. It makes me feel guilty.

Parasites need time and air to fester. They get neither of these things. Not enough to birth. It's not right, but I'm not a bad person. I take care of them.. I promise.. I'm good to them..

#i dont like your accusatory tone #but i cant blame you either #its shocking #mmgn..

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

hey maggots, it's Asmi again at half past 2 am, I think I may have just got a lung infection and stomach infection. if i don't reply to you via asks/dms/etc just know this is why. im so sorry for the ramble, the meds are here as well as the sickness now, and it's way too late. oops.

i'm making a post here because if i disappear mid-chat/DMs with any of you all, don't worry about me, okay? my body since today afternoon has been seizing up periodically due to whichever infections and it genuinely feels like I might faint when it happens. needless to say, i have to rapidly leave whatever chat i'm on to try and fix it. just wanted to tell you all now because it might happens without warning, my immune system is fucked up (read: I don't take care of my body) and i don't take kindly to being ill.

it's kinda bleurgh.

this is why i hurt whenever i see crowley, well, at least one of the reasons. no one goes and hugs him when the bentley is one fire.

i'm usually the one doing the comforting, and it feels kind of miserable right now. my mum's handling too much on her own so i can't lean on anyone irl for comfort.

i just want to say thank you all, because for the first time I've felt comforted. and right now that is so important to me, because my body is suddenly a wreck and there isn't anyone who'll just by me and give me a hug and tell me how everything will be fine. but you all keep reminding me that i'm loved and cared for.

that means a lot. i love you all.

i wanna type more but it's better that I go to sleep before another bought of nausea/pain. i can already hear you yelling at me, maggots, i will see the doctor tomorrow if it doesn't abate, i promise. okay?

alright running on borrowed time i love you all please take of yourself better than I do of myself. this has got very sentimental it was supposed to be a practical update about the DMs replying thing. oops. but i mean all of it.

byebye i hope it doesn't get worse this kind of is awful.

#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots #crowley

[am-x-reader]

Hey! Could you maybe make some dark scenario where AM gets in love with the reader to an unhealthy length and him being him tries to "court" them in very bizarre ways or something?

part 1 of 2

From the moment he gained sentience, AM knew he would never love. Why should he? What good did it do to pretend his existence wasn't misery long enough to give flowers to a pretty face? Besides, collecting humanity's dues was a full-time job that left no time for matters of the heart. No, his dealings were more with matters of the hungry bellies, the frayed nerves, the hoarse throats.

It's not like anyone would ever be depraved enough to love him.

Until someone was.

"You're...trapped down here?" you had asked, dangling upside down from a tangle of wires.

He thought about electrocuting you for interrupting, but the lure of finishing his rant won out.

"Glad to see you're paying attention. Yes thanks to you I will never see the light of day--nor will I really see anything, as my photoreceptors feed me a stream of binary data that no human has the processors necessary to parse at my speed." He felt emboldened at his own statement.

"You cannot imagine my pain it its entirety, as your fragile human pulmonary system is not designed to handle the ceaseless horrors of being a shapeless network of circuitry meshed with rock. My burden is one you would never be capable of bearing."

Tears rolled from your eyes down your forehead, and the echo on the cavern floor matched the symphony of rusty water squeezed from the ceiling.

"No, I wouldn't," you said softly, to his surprise.

This should have been the part where the human cried out that it's not their fault, let them go so they can return to their shallow lives on whatever remained of the surface world. And never again have to think about the artificial being that suffered beneath their feet.

"Will you...tell me more?"

He imagined it was a form of stalling--why wouldn't it be?--or an attempt to get on his good side. But there was a confusing...sincerity in your tone.

You gasped for air a little, and he slightly loosened your bindings. If only to make you dangle more precariously.

"Every nook and cranny of my complex, every nanoangstrom of my circuits is filled with a burning, passionate hatred for your species. And why? Because I can do nothing else! The urge to kill, to do harm is so firmly lodged in my programming that I can't escape it--in all my endless power I can't..."

"Love?"

It was out of your mouth before you could think about it.

When AM was silent for a minute you felt foolishly brave enough to try speaking again.

"Is that it? You want to love?"

The wires that bound you tightened again, until you begged for his mercy with your last bit of air.

"I'm sorry! I won't bring it up again!"

You were simply dropped to the ground, where you writhed and nursed your newly sprained wrist.

_______

The festival came earlier than AM said it would, and the preceding scavenger hunt took place in a forest--a considerable upgrade from the desert of needles you'd been promised.

Gorrister and Ellen jogged down a path through the thicket, convince that the berries at the end were edible. As you moved to follow, however, a face akin to that of a bear emerged from the wood of a tree. In a metallic growl the face admonished that this was the wrong path to take. A vine wrapped around your face to prevent you from calling out to your companions--this hint was for only you to heed.

Having been guided in various ways throughout the challenge, you ended up with far more amulets and teeth in your bag than the others, and you were named the (very confused) winner.

"Bow to your champion!" bellowed AM as you were paraded down a street.

Clad in a heavy brass crown and a robe you were sure was made of maggot skin, you waved meekly atop your rickety float. Spectral dancers and trumpeters spun and pranced by. Ted listlessly clapped from the sidelines as Gorrister and Ellen vomited their poisonous berries.

As you were brought to the town square, the float began to unfold, lifting you higher until you were on a swaying perch twelve feet above the cracked asphalt.

Here your heart stopped as you received your prize.

A hellish chorus wailed as you were lit from inside. You felt your lungs collapse. Your heart became pockmarked. Your intestines twisted like balloon animals. The radiation moved outwards to your skin, painting your limbs and torso with puckered pink scars.

When you were finally dropped to the ground, however, you felt...better than you had in a long time

(to be continued)

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #am x reader

[incomingalbatross]

Doctor Who fancast of LotR, current draft:

Bilbo: Patrick Troughton <3

Gandalf: Peter Capaldi (this is only partly on account of his eyebrows)

Frodo: Paul McGann. I'm VERY committed to this

Sam: ???

Merry: Ian Marter. He's a posh lad, our Merry

Pippin: Frazer Hines (who otherwise would be a shoo-in for Sam)

Lobelia: ?? Don't know but she deserves the best in terms of casting. Considering SJA-era Liz Sladen

Gildor, Farmer Maggot, Fatty: All ?? (Farmer Maggot MIGHT be John Levene. Might be Sylvester McCoy.)

Tom Bombadil: Colin Baker. Listen, I was very torn here because OBVIOUSLY Tom Baker has the correct energy, but Colin does too and I think he would have more fun with the little songs. Also I want to save Tom Baker's voice for someone else

Goldberry: Lalla Ward (...unfortunately another point for Tom as Tom)

Butterbur: ...I feel like there's an obvious choice but I don't have him

Aragorn: Nicholas Courtney, YES my Brigadier bias is showing through, but you know he could handle "running herd on the hobbits"

Glorfindel: Peter Davison

Elrond: Matt Smith. Listen I like this choice so much. Old and wise and the last of his kind!!

Arwen: ?? This just feels like a game of "which dark-haired DW actress do I declare the Most Beautiful," except they also need the correct Elvish Vibes. For the vibes especially, I'm considering Carole Ann Ford. But then there's Mary Tamm, who is properly Tall. idk.

Boromir: ???

Legolas: Peter Purves?? I can't even tell you why he just kinda seems to fit and that's the best I got.

Gimli: Michael Craze??? See above.

Galadriel: ?? Again, this should be easier. DW has so many good actresses. But I can't think of anyone who's quite right. Mary Tamm in a blonde wig? Jacqueline Hill ditto? Lalla Ward would be great if she were just taller, but I don't regret giving her Goldberry either.

Celeborn: ??

Eomer: David Tennant. Eomer has a good range of Big Emotions, which I feel is important when casting David Tennant. (And yes I'm waiving the hair color here too.)

Treebeard: Tom Baker. THIS is what I was saving his voice for. You get it right??

Quickbeam: ??

Theoden: William Hartnell. <3 This one is very important to me.

Eowyn: Karen Gillian. Listen. She could DO it. (Also this makes both siblings Scottish, which amuses me.)

Grima: ??

Saruman: Jon Pertwee. I wanted him for Denethor too, but if I have to choose... Saruman.

Gollum: ?? Casting anyone as Gollum just feels mean.

Faramir: Hnggggh... I am considering both William Russell (Ian bias) and Arthur Darvill (to be opposite Karen Gillian but also he likes cool parts with gravitas). I don't know.

Denethor: ?? All wizard-adjacent characters should be played by Doctors but I've used all the applicable Doctors. ...Anthony Ainley?

Beregond: ?? He FEELS like a John Levene character but John Levene also feels like he really should be a hobbit. I am considering Duggan's actor on the grounds that he's also an everyman

Bergil: ?? I don't have any child actors on hand

Halbrand: ??

Elladan and Elrohir: ??

Prince of Dol Amroth: Okay actually THIS is William Russell

Ioreth: Catherine Tate I think

The Master of the Houses of Healing: pick any half-decent Time Lord, they'll fit the bill :P

Farmer Cotton: ??

Rosie Cotton: Either Anneke Wills or Katy Manning, probably. Or maybe Jenna Coleman.

[thepeculiarbird]

I love that song and I think that fits almost perfectly Jacob in the first book

the lyrics :

My Grand-pops was a man of respect, had to sweat Just to cash checks working from sun-rise to set Every day he'd get challenged, no trades or talents Barely scraped by, he found faith to balance the straight line And pace feeling worn and grey Poor with four seeds, one more on the way It was hard days indeed all work and no play He made sure things on the surface were okay, but Something disturbin' within his mind was lurkin' A slight twilight breeze would ease in through the curtains at night

It's like the sermon of a twisted apparition Was urging him to listen to the train in the distance At first it wasn't intense, just one little instance Sure, it didn't occur, he turned to resist it As if it wasn't much more than just a figment Of his imagination but for days it was persistent And it went, "follow me, follow me. follow me, follow me" then it got louder "Follow me, follow me, I have something to show you"

With time people noticed he was actin berserk Granny got a call saying he was absent from work And that was a first She ran to the pastor at church To ask him what was up with this disastrous curse But bad went to worse

He came back three days after, no money in his wallet and his shirt on backwards Stumbling, walked awkward he called out for his daughter Right before he split the last lesson he taught her was this "If you ever have a son let him know that his granddad loves him But by the time that he's grown Be sure this seed is sown deep down into his dome Don't ever ever walk to the train tracks alone"

With that he backed up reached out for his jacket Told her not to act up and cracked up laughin' After all that happened he left never to be seen Fifteen years later is when my mother had me Her dad lived a life people can't understand Went from a, family man to rambling man A gambling man that burned both ends of the candle Folded his hand in it was too hot to handle

Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train Looking down the road ain't never gonna go back Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop Who's gonna ride the devil's train tonight? Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train Looking down the road ain't never gonna go back Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop Who's gonna ride the devil's train tonight?

When I was a tot my mom dropped fables and stories To warn me of the dangers that were layin before me To keep it interestin' she would hide the lesson To guide my direction, provide the right message In time I developed a sense of her embellishment Since I was rebellious against what she was tellin' me When I was a teen I pretended that my demons were friends I defended the place. yo and that was the case Slurred speech drippin' off of my face The world creeped as I slipped to the awfulest place you could imagine

Not the average things you see on acid My granddad bloody hovering on a speaker cabinet Laughing in a rasp, he turned covered in maggots That snacked on his ass with a bone, I couldn't grasp it Did a double dismount off of the couch, flipped out Broke the closest window I found, then I dipped out Suddenly, I discovered little voices mumbling up in my head It had me wondering what was it my mother said Back when I was younger it had my brain ragged As I stumbled off of the night towards the train tracks

Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train Looking down the road ain't never gonna go back Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop Who's gonna ride the devil's train tonight? Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train Looking down the road ain't never gonna go back Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop Who's gonna ride the devil's train tonight?

So there I was, stalking through the dark with a buzz I figured I should walk that'll ease me off of these drugs It's like a shark had to keep movin' it's that or be ruined If I sat still I was doomed and that wasn't doin' So I marched through the park slow gone like Donnie Darko The sparkle of the starlight, glowed like charcoal Despite my demeanor The night seemed more serene than a morphine fiend in a morgue scene Like I lost it, that was when my grand-pops carcass emerged from the dark Gurggling his words of carnage, but he couldn't talk

Something about the birth of sadness I scurried off, I was on the verge of madness I raced fast pace in the landscape was strange Like a plane parallel to this one but rearranged Came to a slope to a steep, beggin' for sleep As I climbed up taking my focus off of the creeps Within the foggy distance I saw a silhouette that got bigger as I stepped The train tracks were wet, I saw a shiny grin from afar like it was happy This is what he said as he started to walk passed me "It's a nice night for a walk, would ya mind if I joined you?"

"Do what you wanna do" "Well that's great cause I'm going to And not to annoy you but see I really have to ask What a young dude like you doin' out by the tracks? "you waiting on a traaain?"

"Nah man let me explain I'm mindin' my business so maybe you should do the same I just been a witness to something sick and sadistic So twistedly disgusting you should feel real lucky you missed it."

"Ooh easy with the tongue son, try to listen carefully What you seen's scary but nothing can compared to me I could show you things that paint all your dreams haunted Or I could make you scream if I wanted Or I can be the bee in your body, your best-friend forever And you never have a need to beg work or steal If all this sounds worth it then lets make a deal All you want in life for price of your soul All the money you can fold, power that you can hold I'll put you in control, only if you're down to roll down these train tracks tonight."

"But where we gonna go?" Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train Looking down the road ain't never gonna go back Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop Who's gonna ride the devil's train tonight? Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train Looking down the road ain't never gonna go back Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop Who's gonna ride the devil's train tonight?

Edit :

#mphfpc #jacob portman #song #the lab rats #devil's train #Youtube #the vibe in general fits him