#and then it cut to this stupid priest

[alicedrawslesmis]

haha idiot this fucking priest got stuck on the murderock

[brainwormcity]

We gotta talk about Rome, y'all.

So, the flashback in Rome is pretty much exclusively the only time Crowley is actively short with Aziraphale and it has always sort of itched my brain as to why. When I finally got my hands on the script book it started to make sense:

For the uninitiated, Caligula was a Roman Emperor so despicable that there's literally a wiki dedicated to his atrocities.

Some of the deplorable things he was said to have done include, but aren't limited to:

Ordering criminals to be fed to the wild animals used for Gladitorial entertainment, after having cut their tongues out

Decapitating and butchering several people

Beating a priest to death with a mallet

Crucifying, burning, and suffocating multiple people

Literally having a Senator he disliked ripped apart by a mob

With this in mind, we know that Crowley, despite his indifferent attitude toward his demonic assignments, actively works against hurting people and animals, and even though his dialogue implies that he never tempted Caligula, we don't actually know what he might have witnessed. Still, it's not at all out of the realm of possibility that he saw things that could have straight up left him scarred psychologically.

Though the filmed scene leaves this portion of the conversation out, including his failed rebuff of Aziraphale's company, it's clear that he's in some emotional distress. With this in mind, Aziraphale's appearance may have occurred at just the right time. If he saw even just a hint of the monstrosity and madness of Caligula, he'd have needed some sort of comfort, so Aziraphale's stupid question and temptation for oysters may have been the best thing that could have happened under the circumstance.

Plus, given Aziraphale's ignorance about Caligula (he was there for Nero,) he'd have no idea how badly Crowley was messed up. He never reacted to Crowley's irritation or boorish attitude with anything other than continued enthusiasm for his presence. Demonhood has likely been incredibly tragic and traumatizing for Crowley at times, and, in this scene, Aziraphale was a balm for that pain without ever knowing.

[oneforthemunny]

have i the right? |yandere!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: ever since you started working at turtle's tapes, you and eddie have grown closer and closer until he finally asks you out. it feels like the pieces of your life are finally falling into place, things are going right for once- but things are not always what they seem.

contains: minors dni 18+. dark fic. dark!eddie. yandere!eddie. dark tones of the fic. stalking, obsession, breaking and entering, mentions of past violence, mentions of past trauma and relationships. masturbation.

Twelve days. 

Twelve days since you walked in. Eddie didn’t know what divine intervention had stepped in, decided to shine down on him and bring you into Turtle’s Tapes, a resume in hand, asking for Mel. 

You had been so jittery, fingers drumming on the strap of your leather shoulder bag. Red nails, freshly painted, Eddie could tell by the smudges around the edges you hadn’t bothered to clean up. He didn’t point it out, couldn’t even if he wanted to. Tongue too thick, breath caught and suffocating in his throat, wrapped around the words he wasn’t even sure he’d form yet. 

He managed to point you to the back office, croak out the words he couldn’t even remember, hoping his cheeks didn’t reveal the flush of heat thrumming through his body when you smiled at him, waving when you walked away. 

“You’re working again?” 

A giggly voice had Eddie turning, spine straightening, shoulders rolling back when he turned from the stack of records he was sorting. 

You had your hair up today, pulled back so he could see your face fully, more features for him to memorize. 

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted, chin ducking to his chest, a waterfall of curls hiding the pink of his cheeks. “Brenda called out of another shift.” The eye roll he added made you giggle. 

“Again? Why do they even keep her around?” You muttered, grabbing a stack of records out of the shipment box, handing the top one- Out of Time- over to Eddie. Your nails were starting to chip now, around the edges, flaked red polish. 

“Well, she-she’s not bad. Pretty good on the register.” Eddie grabbed the record, sucking in a breath to calm the excited tremble in his hands. 

“Right.” You frowned, lips puckering out the way they did when you were thinking. Eddie noticed it on your first day of training, when he was explaining how to stack the eight tracks, an adorable tick he found himself thinking about at night, staring at his ceiling replaying every word you’d said. 

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to be bitchy.” You shook your head lightly. “I was- I mean, you’re always taking her shifts. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

“No, no,” Eddie’s grip tightened on the record, the plastic wrapping crinkling under his touch. “I know you weren’t.” 

Stupid, stupid, Eddie cursed himself, watching your face fall. The bell trilled, pulling your attention to greet the customer with a cheery tone. You were still new, still eager to impress and help, not weathered and worn from customer service like Eddie. He was thankful for it, truthfully. 

Eddie liked watching you work, liked watching you in general. When he could cut his eyes, stare shamelessly like he used to in freshman year algebra, watching Stacy Simmons from the back corner of the class. 

You were better than Stacy Simmons. Prettier. Definitely nicer. Stacy never even looked at Eddie, he wasn’t even sure she knew he existed, even when he sent her the candy-gram on Valentine’s Day. 

He wondered what kind of candy you liked, what it would have been like to go to high school with you. If you would have acknowledged him, maybe even been friends with him? Gone to prom, wore a corsage he pinned on with his Judas Priest button. 

“Were you a cheerleader in high school?” Eddie asked when you finally migrated back over to him, stocking on the other side of the stacks. 

“What?” Your nose crinkled lightly, lips curling in a tiny smile. “A cheerleader?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie’s heart hammered, chest burning with regret, embarrassment. What a stupid fuckin’ question, Munson, why would you ask that?

“No.” You giggled, shaking your head. “Do I look like I was a cheerleader?” You snorted lightly, brow raising playfully. 

Eddie wanted to tell you, you looked like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than a cheerleader, than an angel. 

Instead, he thumbed through the stacks, pretending to look for a record, a desperate attempt to play it cool. “Kinda.” He shrugged. “Not in a bad way, you’re just… you get really peppy when you’re helping people.” 

“Peppy?” You laughed. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smirked. “I mean, your voice raises.” 

“Wow.” You shook your head, lips rolling, biting back a smirk. “I didn’t even realize I did that. I guess I do.” 

Eddie’s stomach turned, a violent, sharp jab when your smile dropped slightly. Munson, don’t ever speak again. What the fuck is wrong with you today? Get it together. 

“It’s not a bad thing.” Eddie shook his head, sweaty palms gripping the stack of records. “You’re- The customers really like you.” 

“Thanks.” You muttered. There was that silence, filling the space between you. Eddie loathed it, feared it, terrified that it would linger forever, that he might never hear the sound of your voice again because he drove you away. 

“Do you close tonight?” You hummed, shuffling down to the next stack. Head still tilted down but eyes lifted to look at Eddie, lines creasing on your forehead that he’d never seen before. A new angle of you for him to preoccupy his thoughts with, play in his fantasies. 

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the growing lump in his throat, thumb twisting the ring around his middle finger. His stack was gone, finished, but he wouldn’t dare leave to get another. Not while you were talking, while he was in your attention. 

Instead, he pretended to organize the names, shuffling the stacks. “Just us tonight.” His lips curled, dimples deep in a grin. 

You smiled back, soft but bright, enough to make his heart flutter and take flight. “Fun.” You shrug sweetly. “That means we can change the music, right? I don’t think I can listen to Amy Grant on a loop again.” 

“Yeah, definitely. As soon as Mel leaves we can.” Eddie swore he was in love, hoping you couldn’t see the blush in his cheeks. Every second he spent with you, time built his feelings, made them grow stronger and stronger. 

“Play something actually good.” Eddie smiled. He’d been shuffling the same records back and forth, fiddling between his hands. 

“I’m sure you will. You have great taste.” The compliment was so natural, so easy coming from you. Still, it made Eddie blister and burn at the praise, so sure his heart might swell and tear through his ribcage, splatter all over the aisles and on your t-shirt. 

“The customers really like you too. Always come in and ask for your recommendations.” You added, filing in the last of your record stack. 

“Yeah? Thanks, I mean,” Eddie took a breath, swallowing down a stutter, jumbling of words. “Thanks. Just trying to keep the kids cool, y’know? This grunge shit.” Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, I know you’re a fan. Nirvana’s not that bad.” 

You laughed, shaking your head at him, an empty box cradled on your hip. “So I guess I can’t convince you to spin Nevermind tonight?” You batted your eyes at him sweetly, lip tucked between your teeth. Eddie’s knees tightened. 

As soon as Mel left, Eddie was tearing open the album, shoving Heart in Motion back in its slip with far less care than he should have. Mel would bitch him out, bitch him for opening and playing a non-approved album on the store’s system. Eddie didn’t care, he’d buy the album in secret, give it to you maybe. Slip it in your locker with a note. 

If your smile was anything like what you gave him when the opening chords to Smells Like Teen Spirit played through the speakers, he’d buy you a million of those fucking albums. 

The hours were slow for a Thursday, especially with the new releases. Not that Eddie minded, he’d never complain about a lack of asshole highschool kids, demanding for cassettes and tapes. 

“I think it’s because of the rain.” You tilted your head back, looking out the front window, painted and splattered with rain drops. 

Eddie was convinced you could read his mind, sure you might be his soul mate, made just for him. “Yeah, I think so.” He nodded, wiping off the counter with a sudsy rag. 

You sighed, heavy, pushing past your lips, puckering them in a perfect pout. Eddie’s tongue ran over his bottom lip, the soapy warm water seeping through his fingers. 

“I was hoping it would hold over until I got off.” You admitted, shoulder’s falling, dragging the broom lazily around your dust piles. “I forgot an umbrella or a rain jacket.” 

Eddie paused, a second longer than he should have, your attention moved to him. “You- Sorry, you walked?” Eddie shook his head lightly, curls bobbing, brushing against his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” You muttered, looking down at the broom, pushing the piles of dirt around. “My car’s in the shop. They said it would be ready a week ago.” 

Eddie’s fingers curled around the rag, water piling and pooling in the spot in front of him. He’d find where your car was, make them fix it, fix it himself if he had to. 

Still, your rainy predicament gave him an opportunity he’d been looking for. Plotting and mulling over for the past twelve days. 

“I can give you a ride.” Eddie shrugged, dragging the rag, stained with dirt from the years of use, over the glass, prismatic streaks on the glass from the cleaner. 

“No,” You shook your head politely, sweeping the dirt pile into the dustpan. “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s fine, honestly, I live really close-” 

“-C’mon.” Eddie rolled his eyes lightly. “It’s pouring and it’s dark. Shouldn’t walk alone at night, anyways. Lots of weirdos out.” 

Your own heart skipped at his tone, thrilling and thrumming with excitement. “I mean, if it’s not a problem.” You hesitated. “I can give you some gas money-” 

“-No, don’t.” Eddie said firmly, plopping the rag back in the bucket of water. “It’s not a problem, seriously. I don’t mind.” 

Your lips curled, a shy smile. “Thank you.” You nodded. “I really appreciate it, Eddie.” 

“It’s not a problem.” Eddie shrugged. “Besides, you’re not wearing the right shoes.” He nodded towards your white Keds, cloth on top, stained with dirt from your walk here. “Can’t let them get ruined.” 

“They’re already ruined. Really dirty, I need to clean them.” You smirked, toes wiggling in your sneakers. “But thank you.” 

“Hey, it’s no problem.” Eddie shrugged, trailing you when you crossed the store, bending over to brush up another pile of dirt. Your shirt rode up, jeans lowering just enough for Eddie’s breath to still entirely. The strings of your panties, high cut, a lavender shade peeking over the band of your denim, that had Eddie’s head spinning. 

His face flushed, blood rushing straight to his crotch, shamelessly. A still soapy hand adjusted himself, turning so you wouldn’t see. Wouldn’t see how easily he was flustered, attracted to you. The last thing he needed to do was scare you off, fuck this all up again. 

Like with Chrissy. 

Eddie winced, teeth clenching at his own thoughts. No, he wouldn’t think about her. You weren’t anything like her. How dare he insult you like that, comparing you so lowly to her. 

His eyes cut back to you, hips swaying while you swept to the beat of Lithium, head bobbing to the clash of the drums. 

No, he knew better this time. He’d be more careful. He wouldn’t mess this up. 

Eddie gave you his keys to the store, let you lock up while he took the trash, sprinting to his van. He shoved the cigarette buds in the plastic trash bag, smushing down the brown, grease soaked fast-food paper bags he’d carelessly tossed in his passenger side. He would’ve had his car detailed if he would have known he’d be giving you a ride. 

“Ed?” Your voice carried around the corner. 

“Back here!” Eddie called, jamming his keys into the van’s ignition, the engine sputtering to life before evening out into a steady roar. One leg out, Eddie stopped, sucking in a breath. He swiped the yellow scrunchie off his gear shift, shoving it in his pocket just as you turned the corner. 

Eddie smiled, walking to the dumpster, flinging the bag in. “Sorry, just wanted to get the car started. It takes a while for it to warm up.” 

He held the door open for you, bowing dramatically when you slipped in. You giggled at his antics, and his heart soared, fluttered with pride. Eddie slipped into the driver’s side, eyes scanning the console and back of the van nonchalantly when he backed out, making sure he hadn’t left anything lying about. 

He was more careful after what happened before. More aware, double checking his steps, but the scrunchie had him on edge. It was close, too close for his comfort. 

“Seriously, thank you.” You looked over at Eddie, the glow of the street lights cast a nearly angelic, golden luster over your features. “Saved me from getting sick.” You nodded towards the window, Eddie’s wipers creaking with every swipe over the glass. 

“Can’t have that now.” Eddie smirked, looking over at you, throwing his blinker on. “Have to take your shifts too. Then I’ll really be overworked.” 

You laughed, looking out the window, smile falling as Eddie cruised down the familiar street. 

“But seriously, if you ever need me to take a shift for you, I don’t care to.” Eddie shrugged, eyes cutting over to yours. He didn’t see the way you’d stilled, hands wringing in your lap, spine rigid. “I was just kidding.” 

You stayed silent, heart hammering, inching further and further up your throat. Eddie frowned, looking over at you. “You alright?” 

Your wide eyed gaze met his, scared, startled. He saw flashes of Chrissy before him, merging into his vision. “What?” Eddie cringed. He didn’t mean to sound so fierce. “Are you alright?” 

“How do you know where I live?” You asked, blinking at Eddie, eyes rounded. Your eyes cut to the road ahead, Eddie inching closer to your apartment complex. 

His heart stopped, a pause that lingered a little bit longer than he meant it to. “You told me.” He blurted, a white knuckled grip on the wheel, turning back towards the road. “When you started, you told me you lived at Magnolia Place. My friend Jeff lives over there, remember?” 

You had mentioned it, not to him, to Lindy. Eddie had overheard it, when he was lingering around, watching you from behind cassette stacks. You frowned, but your grip loosened, relaxing. Eddie held his breath, switching his hand casually, freeing his right hand- just in case. 

“Oh,” You chirped, flushing with embarrassment, chin tucking towards your chest. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot about that.” You shook your head. 

“It’s alright.” Eddie shrugged casually, his fingers loosening around the wheel. 

“No, that was weird of me.” You shook your head, hands rubbing down your face. “I watch too much Dateline.” You laugh softly. “It’s always the single girl in an apartment alone, y’know?” 

Eddie smirked. “Do I give off those creeper vibes?” His eyes cut to yours, longer than they should have, reading your reaction. “Bundy vibes or something?” 

“No,” Your laugh made him relax, exhaling slowly. “I’m just- I don’t know. I need medicated. I get, like, super worried about things sometimes.” You looked down at your nails, picking at the chipping polish. 

“No, that’s a good thing. Better to be careful.” Eddie nodded, turning into the apartment complex. “Ok, now I do need you to tell me which one. Left or right?” 

“I’m in the very back right.” You pointed through the rainy window, drizzle still steady. 

Eddie turned the wheel with his palm, slowing the van to a cruise through the parking lot. “Where does your friend live?” 

“Hm?” Eddie hummed, brow furrowed, looking over at you. 

“Your friend?” You pressed lightly. “You said he lives over here? Where, if you don’t mind me asking? I just… it would be nice to know someone just in case.” 

Eddie craned his head, heart thrumming in his chest rapidly. “He lives right there.” Eddie pointed, finger pressed to the window. “On the left side.” 

You nodded slowly, leaning forward, close enough that Eddie could smell your perfume. His head spinning, stilling entirely, scared to move and have you inch away. 

“But if you ever need anything,” Eddie followed your muttering of directions. “You can just call me. I don’t live too far.” 

“That’s sweet,” You smiled softly, turning so you were inches away from Eddie’s face. He hoped you couldn’t feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. “I don’t want to bother you, though.” 

“You’re not.” Eddie shook his head. “I promise. I’ll let you know if you bother me.” 

“Yeah?” You laughed, Eddie could feel your breath on his curls. 

“Yeah. Oh, yeah.” Eddie nodded, sliding into a parking space easily. “You’ll know.” 

You smiled, and for a moment, Eddie contemplated leaning forward, grabbing your face with his hands and kissing you. You moved before he could, unfastening your seat belt instead. Eddie tried to hide his huff of disappointment. 

Too slow, Munson, you’re always too fucking slow. 

“Well, thank you, again.” You reached for your purse, slipping your arm through the leather strap. “I really appreciate it.” 

“Any time.” Eddie’s fingers drummed on his denim clad thigh, desperately racking his brain for anything, anything to get you to stay. Even just for a second longer. 

“Enjoy your day off.” You smiled, the streetlights above you catching in your eyes. “You deserve it.” 

“Thanks.” Eddie gave a tight lipped smile, heart jumping when your fingers cradled around the door handle. “Wait-” Eddie’s voice was sharper than he meant, your head whipping around towards him. 

“Sorry,” Eddie blushed. “I just- You don’t close tomorrow, right?” Eddie asked, foot shaking by the brakes, the rumble of the engine vibrating the soles of his shoes.

“No, I’m an opener. I get off that four.” You smiled proudly. 

“Oh, well, I was thinking if, um,” Get it the fuck together, Munson. “If you’re not busy tomorrow after work, I- we could go to The Hideout?” 

You blinked. “I mean, I know we talked about it, and you said you’d never been. I’m not playing tomorrow, but I-I know the band that is. We could go and listen to the music, or just go and hang out. It’s really fun, really chill.” Eddie rambled. Chill? Who says chill? 

“If you want to.” Eddie blurted before you could reply. “I-I know you probably have plans, or something better to do-” 

“-No,” You shook your head, a smile spreading over your features, beaming as bright as the streetlamp about the two of you. “I mean, yes I want to go. No, I’m not busy.” You gave him a small, breathy laugh. 

“That sounds like fun.” Eddie was convinced it was a dream, the entire interaction. You in his van, agreeing to go out with him. His luck was finally changing, falling into place. 

“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes were bright. “Yeah, I-I mean it will be. I promise.” His foot still shook. “I’ll pick you up.” 

“Yeah, that-that would be nice.” You beamed, heart fluttering with butterflies, tingling with excitement. 

“I can get you at seven? We can get there kinda early and get a good seat by the front if you want.” Eddie couldn’t help his smile, couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. 

“Sounds good.” You smiled. There was a pause, and you weren’t sure why, what came over you when you leaned forward, lips pressing in a soft peck to Eddie’s cheek, soft over the crease of his dimples. 

Eddie flushed, body burning, flaming with heat, he knew he wasn’t hiding. You grinned, a small giggle, bubbly like the two of you were in junior high, kissing behind the bleachers. 

“I-I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grinned, opening the door. Eddie nodded, eyes still wide, lovesick or maybe lovestruck- he couldn’t decide. 

“Thank you again!” You squeaked, shutting the door, scampering to your door. You turned, waving at him before pushing the door open, slipping inside. 

Eddie sat, in a daze, head foggy, blinded with a rush of emotions. He could feel your lips on his cheek, a light tingling imprinted onto his skin. 

He’d nearly ruined it, fucked it all up before it even began. He wouldn’t let that happen, couldn’t be careless like before. 

Eddie pulled out of the parking spot, the light from your bedroom catching his eye in the rearview as it flickered on, blinds wide open. For someone who watches so much Dateline, you should know better. 

Eddie’s stomach turned, foot pressing into the gas, halting in front of another complex. Eddie turned, adjusting the rear view mirror so he could see you. Maybe you hadn’t left it open. His mind swam, flooded with fear. He couldn’t live with himself if something happened. 

Just a quick check. Make sure she’s alright, and then leave. It won’t be like last time. 

Eddie let the van roll to a stop, cutting the headlights before killing the ignition. A steady stream of rain drummed on the roof of the van, melodic and calming. Eddie reached in his pocket, holding your yellow scrunchie. The thing that had nearly blown his whole plan. He swiped it from your locker four days ago, held it close to his nose that night, hand wrapped around his shaft, eyes fluttering closed, breathing in your scent and imagining what it would be like if you were there instead. 

Eddie closed his fist around the silk, tucking it back in his pocket, reaching for his leather jacket, thrown over the back seat. An old Yankees cap, navy and worn in the floor of the van’s trunk. Eddie slipped the cap over his curls, pulling the brim low, zipping his jacket up. 

Hands in his pocket, Eddie scanned around him. Nobody out to see him, catch him like last time and stop him. He wouldn’t let them even if they tried. Not this time. 

The rain beat off Eddie’s shoulders, repelling off the leather of his jacket, wetting the ends of his curls. A final look over his shoulder, and Eddie was slinking back towards the wet brick of the opposite unit. Shuffled side steps, creeping closer and closer into the dark, angling himself to see your window. 

He stilled, pressed fully to the brick, when your figure fluttered out of the corner of the window. Eddie watched the steam roll, following you out of the bathroom in a cloud, a towel wrapped around you, another in your hair. Toothbrush lazily scrubbing inside your mouth, flicking on the TV in your room. 

She’s safe, now leave. Leave. Eddie’s mind screamed, but his feet were cemented in place. Hidden in the dark shadows, drawn to you like a moth to a flame, the light luring him though he stayed still. 

You disappeared, Eddie watched you in the large mirror above your vanity. 

Now, go now. Before she sees you. She’s going to see you. 

The pounding in Eddie’s ears roared over the falling rain, deafening. Still, he stayed. Frozen in fear, maybe instinct. 

When you returned, dropping your towel, kicking it to the corner of the room, Eddie was glad he stayed. Eyes wide, willing himself not to blink. He didn’t want to miss a second, not a single one. Your bare figure, better than his own imagination could curate. Soft edges and curves that Eddie couldn’t wait to feel. How jealous he was of your hands, smoothing the Avon body lotion over your shins, up your thighs. 

What he would do to be the one doing that instead, his mind fading, slipping into his imagination. Inside your bedroom, instead of out, pressing soft kisses to your freshly lotioned shoulders, nose trailing along your soft skin. He wondered how you’d feel in his arms, letting yourself relax in his touch. 

Eddie’s fantasies were halted when you moved to the vanity, snapping back to his cruel reality, a jolt of icy cold fear dumped into his veins. He could see himself in your mirror, the very corner. You bent down, picking up your comb and he took his chance, stepping back, hidden from your gaze, only a sliver of you to be seen, when you’d tilt your head a certain way to blow dry your hair. 

Eddie stood, cold puffs of air clouding around his nose, clutching the switchblade in his jacket pocket every time he heard the smallest rustle. Ready to attack, to do anything he could to keep from being caught. He couldn’t ruin this, lose you before he ever truly got you. He was so close, so close.  

Your light didn’t turn off, the same warm glow spilled out from your window, rain beating against the glass. Eddie’s feet ached, heart rate stroke level high. “Shit, shit, shit.” Eddie muttered, carefully stepping back towards the window.

 You were no longer at the vanity, instead on your stomach, painting your nails at the end of the bed. Not red, from what Eddie could see- black. His lips curled. He liked to think you were doing this for him, for tomorrow, to match his dark and moody attire. 

Eddie army crawled under your window, holding his breath when he passed under your window sill. He could hear the muffled sound of the TV- Dateline. You really should know better. Eddie would make sure to tell you that when he finally got inside, make sure to put in blinds and curtains for you. 

His jaw flexed at the thought of someone trying to hurt you, someone else watching you. Watching you to harm you, not keep you safe like Eddie. The thought nearly had him staying in his van, parking closer and keeping watch through the night. He decided against it, the risk of nodding off and you seeing him there stronger than his want to stay. 

Instead, Eddie pulled out of the parking lot, watching your window in the rearview mirror of his van as he drove away. 

“Morning.” You sang, a skip in your step that you couldn’t hide, punching your card with glee, putting it in the assigned pocket. 

“Good mornin’ to you, Sunshine.” Brenda grinned, brows raised at your cheery demeanor, running the price gun over the new cassettes. “What’s got you so happy on a Friday morning?” She snorted lightly. 

“Mm, nothing.” You hummed, twisting the metal lock around. You were getting better at it, thanks to Eddie. He’d helped you the first few times. Tricky things, he’d told you with a half smile. 

“Nothing?” Brenda sang, a playful mocking tone that had you blistering in heat. “You’re just that excited to stock tapes all day? That’s it?” 

“Yeah.” You snorted lightly, pulling the lock open, wrangling it out of the metal hold of your locker. “No, I…” You spun the lock in your hand. “I’m going on a date tonight.” 

“Oh?” Brenda’s brows raised. 

You nodded. “Yeah. With, uh, with Eddie, actually.” Your heart fluttering in your chest, bubbly and excited. 

“Oh, really?” Brenda laughed, putting her hands on her hip, pricing gun still in head. “Well, that makes more sense then.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

Brenda shook her head, kicking the box lightly with her foot. “That boy,” She snorted lightly. “He called my phone night before last, all crazy, I thought he’s been hurt or somethin’. Askin’ me to switch shifts with him last night.” 

You paused, stilling. “H-He did?” You squeaked, hand closing around the lock tightly. 

“Yeah,” Brenda smiled. “I mean, I was a little confused why he’d want to work a closing over an open, ‘specially with all the shifts he’s been picking up. But I thought, hey, none of my business. Maybe he needs the money.” She held her hands up playfully. “This makes me feel better, though.” 

You twisted the lock nervously in your hands. “It does?” 

“Yeah.” Brenda looked at you. “He just likes you. Wanted to take you out. Probably scared I’d tell you or somethin’, you know how he is.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “He gets a little paranoid about things. Dramatic, that one.” 

Your stomach turned, sharp and twisting. “But-But Eddie, he wouldn’t, like, he’s a good guy?” You asked. “I mean, he seems like a good guy, but you-you know him better than I do.” 

“I’ve known Ed since he was a little boy.” Brenda waved you off, her flippant tone made you feel better somehow. “I used to date his uncle, actually. Wayne started taking care of Eddie when we were together. He was wild, I’ll tell ya. But the sweetest kid. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

“Right.” You nodded, swallowing down your nerves. “Right, I- I’m just not from here, ya know? I get kinda…” You waved your hands, slinging your purse in your locker. “I also get paranoid.” 

“A good match then.” Brenda grinned. “You’ll have fun with him. If he doesn’t treat you right, you let me know. I’ll tell his uncle and he’ll handle him, alright?” Her eyes shone in a playful way, comforting. Soothing your nerves with a warm smile.

You were anxious, and why wouldn’t you be? You hadn’t been out on a date since you moved to Hawkins. 

Since you left your hometown. 

Since you left him. 

You swallowed, shaking it from your mind. You wouldn’t let him ruin this for you, wouldn’t let your mind consume itself. Eddie’s locker was just above yours, a plethora of stickers- Metallica, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, and so many more all collaged together. Some peeling, overlapping and covering the others. Right in the middle, a bright, smiley face sticker. You’d given it to him last week, the grocer at Melvald’s snuck one in your bag. 

“I brought it for your sticker collection.” You had grinned at Eddie, waving the yellow sticker around playfully. You hadn’t expected him to put it right in the middle of his collaged locker. 

It was sweet. A simple, sweet, silly gesture that had you giggly and blushy for the rest of your shift. 

You pinned your badge to the inside of your shirt, letting the metal back snap into your soft cotton, pushing out the back doors and towards the register, letting your mind drift into daydreams about tonight. About Eddie, while you straightened the tapes on the front table. 

A ringed hand gripping the plastic cup, warm from the coffee inside, Eddie sipped slowly, eyes trained on the corner. He waited, parked and hidden behind the row of bushes in front of McDonald’s, hoping it would camouflage his van enough. 

His breath hitched, strangling the liquid in his throat when a figure rounded the corner. Your hair was down today, freshly styled, and you had gone without your white Keds. Eddie’s heart bubbled, fluttered to life with a soaring warmth. Your nails were painted black, he could see it as you got closer on the sidewalk, shrinking in his seat, peering just over the steering wheel to track you until you got to the store. 

When you slipped into the door, safely inside Turtle’s, Eddie geared into reverse. Van rolling steady back towards Magnolia Place. 

“It’s always the single girl in an apartment alone, y’know?”

Your voice rang in his head, a rhythmic melody that lured him into a trance, tunnel visioned all the way back to your apartment doorstep. The flathead screwdriver and allen wrench heavy in his pocket, clammy palms wrapped around them. 

As much as he hated his father, cursed and blamed him for the way he was, every hardship he’d endured, he did have to thank him for making him resilient. Al had passed on more than just his wild curls to Eddie. He’d given him his resourcefulness, taught him. Eddie thanked Al, wherever he was, when the door clicked open. 

Your apartment smells exactly like how he thought, looked exactly how he imagined. A hodgepodge of second hand furniture, throw pillows and blankets neatly folded and placed on the patterned couch. Your shoes kicked in a pile by the door, your white Keds amongst them. 

Eddie crouched down, cradling the shoe in his hand. The small speck of dirt splattered on the sides from your walk to work yesterday, an imprint of your foot molded into the sole. 

Eddie let himself wander around the small space- your space. He hoped he’d be back tonight, invited in this time, but in case he didn’t, he just needed a look. To see the full thing, to see how you lived, feel closer to you any way he can. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to know everything about you, every single thing. 

Your perfume taunted him from the vanity, clouded his mind the very same way it did when he smelled it on you, catching whiffs when you’d walk past. Eddie drenched the edge of his band tee, saturated it in your perfume. For later, when his mind would wander back to you, when he’d miss you, when he’d long to smell you. 

Stacks of photos lined the vanity, a man and woman donning similar features to your own. Even when you were younger, you always had the same smile, bright and warm. Your towel still kicked in the corner of the room from the night before, bed sheets crumpled from sleep. Eddie’s hand slid across the crinkled cotton, he hoped they’d still be warm. 

Next to your sink, a bottle of purple acetone, red soaked cotton pads in the trash. A small tray of nail polishes next to that, pushed into the corner, every color imaginable- including the red. The same red you wore when Eddie met you. That you kept painting over for the following days until you finally gave up, let it chip away. 

His mind screamed, roared at him not to. That you would know. 

I’ll give it back. I’ll give it back when she invites me over. She’ll never know. 

Eddie plucked the Revlon bottle out of the group, pushing the others back into place, pocketing it. 

Ok, that’s enough. Enough. You’re gonna get caught. It’s going to be Chrissy- No, no, don’t fucking even compare her to that sick- 

Eddie’s mind spiraled, pulling deeper and deeper into himself, a white knuckled grip on the counter, eyes crossing in a hazy daze, foggy and distorted. A familiar buzz ringing through his ears, a roar of static, heart hammering so fast he was sure it wasn’t beating at all. Flashes of memories he’d tried to forget, beat his head against a wall and knock them out, unforgiving and rapid. 

A sliver of purple peeking out of your wickered hamper halted those hauntings just as quickly as they’d begun. Carelessly thrown on top, Eddie’s vision honing in through the mirror. The same lavender thong that had teased him the night before, consumed his thoughts later that night, hand pumping his cock, free hand holding your scrunchie to his nose, eyes screwed shut picturing- wishing it was you instead. 

I’ll bring it back. With the nail polish, she’ll never know. 

Eddie was nearly in a trance like state, swiping the panties off the top of the towels, shoving them in his pocket. He couldn’t- not here. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. 

Instead, Eddie waited until he was back home, in the sanctuary of his trailer. Pulling the old, metal lunchbox off the top shelf of his closet, he sunk into the mattress. A treasure chest, filled with all his favorite things. All his memories of you. 

The scrunchie, a note you’d written him about an order signed with a heart before your name, your application he’d swiped off Mel’s desk after you got the job. It was small, smaller than Eddie would have liked but it was safer this way. The nail polish he tucked away, but the panties he kept out. 

Reaching for the Jergens by his bed, Eddie freed his length from his boxers, settling back against the headboard. Tail of his shirt tucked by his chin, the overwhelming scent of your perfume wafting up to him, dizzying his senses. Eddie sighed, free hand tugging at his shaft, relaxing into the pillows. 

He could see you, a fantasy that challenged his perception of reality, riding him soft and slow. Would you like it like that? Harder? Rougher? Sweeter? Him on top? Eddie’s mind flurried with worry, what if’s, pleasure simmering out slowly. 

Eddie blinked, a heavy lidded gaze landing on the panties in his hand. You flooded back to his mind, picturing you in your little panties, shy and bare before him. He swallowed down a groan, pushing the crotch of your panties to his nose. A pungent, spicy scent, swarming with something so intoxicating. Eddie whimpered, pushing the lavender panties further under his nose, suffocating himself nearly, but he didn’t mind. 

He hoped to have you in a different way, to experience you authentically later tonight. Even just to kiss you again, feel you again, his body ached for it. But for now, Eddie would suffice having you this way, his own little secret, a dark and twisted fantasy just for him. 

[wordsbymae]

Saviour Complex- goddess!Reader x Warrior

Plot: Reader is a young goddess, still yet to come into her full power. The patron goddess of innocence and compassion, she resides deep within the forest, caring for any lost souls who come her way. Destruction finds its way to her lands, as the Emperor's men flood the forest, tasked with cutting down anyone who refuses to denounce their heathen ways. One warrior finds the reader's temple, and tasks himself with 'saving' the reader from herself.

TW: Loosely based on posiden and medusa, which if you know is a trigger warning all on its on, SA, Implied non/con, talks of religion and religious genocide. Neither the warrior's or reader's religions (so to speak) are actual practised or once practiced religions. They are completely made up. Sexual talk. This fic is from the warrior's point of view so very much misogynistic, ignorant, and him being a dick. Also breeding is mentioned (a few times, opps) I see the warrior as Pedro Pascal as Pero Trovar

Notes: This was meant to be priestess reader but I liked this idea better. Enjoy!

He would hardly call the temple before him a temple. It was nothing more than some stones and arches pilled together, hidden under the canopy of a great oak. It was not as old as the other temples he and his comrades had pulled down. The other's, older and more grand than the one in front of him, were infested by savage heathens. They had been dozens of them milling around the great stone pillars. Some leaving tokens of good faith, other's seeming to be in constant service to their wild gods.

This land he found himself in was not under the watchful gaze of the Eye. Nor were they subjects of the Emperor. Instead they worshipped petty gods and goddesses, born from mortal parent's, given gifts of power from Mother Wild. The gifts given depended on their actions as growing gods. Raised as mortals until their 20th nameday, when Mother Wild gives them her final gift, immortality. At least, immortality to a point.

They age as mortals do, but the hands of time pass ever slowly by. As they watch their family and friends grow grey and old, only days have the wild gods aged. It is said that they can one day grow old, grey and tired, succumbing to death as all living things do. But none had ever yet to reach such an age. Gods were able to be killed but it took strength and numbers to do so, and the sword of Caleen, the first wild god ever born. Caleen's own blood had been mixed with the metal, creating a sword capable of penetrating through the gifts given to them. The sword, gifted to him by the Emperor, lay dormant in its sheath by the warrior's side. It was the only method known to truly kill a wild god.

Until then, the only way to defeat a god without the sword was to force them to act in a way that went against their patronage. Salios, once god of law and order, had his gifts ripped from him by Mother Wild, when he unjustly killed an innocent man. Without his gifts, age and sickness came for him thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of years before he should have perished as a god. Yet such an act had not occurred for hundreds of years, least of all forced by human hand. So these wild gods reigned over their forgotten wood, almighty in power and reverence.

It was heresy.

These 'almighty' beings were nothing but demons, given unholy power by the forces of darkness. Born human, yet corrupted by power. It was unnatural, it was all that went against the teachings of the Eye. Humans were sinful creatures, and the more power one had, the more corrupted they became.

The warrior grimaced as he walked up to the temple. A stupid move if he was being honest. He was here alone after being separated from his battalion. But he needed a place to shelter the coming storm, the air thick with the scent of rain. He would rather face a barbarian than freeze in the wilderness. The temple seemed to be empty, no worshippers leaving offers or priests caring after the god. It was quiet and lonesome. Yet strangely welcoming. He could feel warmth emerging from inside the temple, the scent of delicate florals dancing through the air.

He hesitated at the threshold of the temple, it was clean and well looked after. The walls were lined with soft candlelight, and murals of prancing deer and maidens dancing through the woods. A statue of a woman stood silent in the middle, bathed in dark sunlight by a round hole in the roof. The statue was covered in crowns of flowers. Some placed on her bowed head, others hooked onto her arms as they reach outwards, palms facing towards the sky. Gifts of pearls, lilies and feathers of pure white were placed delicately at the foot of the statue.

He did not care to learn these savage gods names. There were hundreds of them, some more powerful than others. Some given patronage over small, worthless things. He had laughed for hours when he discovered that there was a patron god of footprints. Whoever this temple was erected for, was loved yes, but not revered.

The warrior walks deeper into the temple, becoming enveloped in a sense of peace and compassion at the care given to this little goddess. He grunts in frustration, these stupid gods and their stupid 'gifts'. When he and his brothers in arms desecrated the patron god of fear's temple, the battle was nearly lost as they nearly fell to the wild gods powers. Fear racing through their ranks. Just being in the presence of a god was enough for their powers to linger in the air, effecting a mortal humans thoughts and feelings.

This little goddess must still be here.

Rain began to fall from the heavens, it came down with a fury. Yet, the rain that fell through the hole came down in fat, gentle drops upon the statue of the goddess. Water drippled down her stone face, the warrior had to admit this little goddess was quite the beauty. If her statue was anything to go by. He walks deeper into the sanctuary, closer towards the statue. He stops just in front of her image, breathing in deeper at what he can only imagine is her scent, sweet yet comforting, there was an earthiness to it too. He reaches out to caress the stone cheek of his little goddess. What a pretty thing she was.

He kneels to take in the sight of the gifts offered to her. There were the pearls, feathers and lilies he had seen before. But now he could see spools of white wool, wrapped in ribbon, and carvings of hearts, flowers and dozens of names circling the statue.

Lightly touching the most prominent of the carved names, he allowed himself a grin. He had found the wild goddess of innocence and compassion.

He had found you.

You were the youngest of the gods, only decades since you were gifted your immortality. Yet, you had quickly become beloved by your worshippers. The patron goddess of innocence and compassion, you resided deep within the forgotten woods, caring for the animals of the forest and any travellers who crossed your path. It is said that only those in needing of help or guidance, and children looking for a home could find you. The delicate smell of flowers leading the way to your temple. The names carved upon the stone at your feet were those you had cared for over the years. Travellers lost and afraid. Children without parents or care. Women hiding from vengeful men. And men scarred by life itself. All found their way to you, to your compassionate and pure hands.

You were the last of the major gods that the warrior and his men were yet to find. Your brothers and sisters before you had fallen. Some had run like cowards leaving their temples, and their followers, to burn into the night. Others, slaughtered by his hand. Time may only harm the wild gods so much, but Caleen's sword is a deadlier foe than time itself. It filled him with joy remembering plunging Caleen's own sword into the first wild god's heart. He was the first of the wild gods and as such he was the first to fall.

The warrior stood to his full height quickly as soft footsteps made their way through the temple. They came to a stop, the owner hidden by darkness still.

Outside the storm raged on.

"That you little goddess?" the warrior jested, hand coming to rest lazily on his sword's pummel. He stepped around the statue, giving a slight kick at a doll that was laid carefully at its feet.

The sound of hesitant shuffling could be heard. His little goddess was nervous.

"May I see your face, dear one? I have come a long, long way to find you. I wish not to leave this place without seeing your face, it would break this poor soldiers heart" he pouted in fake hurt, creeping towards you as a wolf moves closer to its prey.

"Who are you?" you ask, voice calm and strong. Yet, he could sense fear in your words.

"Just a poor soldier, a lost traveller if you will. Seeking the care and compassion of your grace" he answers, bowing slightly. He toys with his pummel, he had a feeling he would not need to draw it this day.

"Are you hurt?" you plead, taking a closer step towards him, your sense of empathy and compassion shinning through.

The warrior saw his chance, and he was going to take it.

"Not physically your grace, but I have not yet broken my fast or had a drop of water in days." he furrows his brow, grimacing and holding his stomach with his free hand.

"Oh! Your poor thing!" you exclaim, rushing forward to meet him. Once in the light, the warrior damned the creator of the sculpture for failing to capture your beauty. The statue was nothing in comparison to you. Your hair was thick and healthy, framing your face perfectly. Your skin soft and supple. Lips dewy and oh so kissable.

Your were the most beautiful woman he had seen in his entire life.

And here you were, all his for the taking. You were dressed as a goddess deemed fit, perfectly tailored and fetchingly so. But all he could think about was ripping it from you in a daze of lust. You rushed up to him and guided him deeper into your temple. He only realised that the temple was much larger than it seemed when he was outside. These wild gods and their tricks. You cooed to him the entire time. Stating there would be a warm bath and fresh fruit and clear spring water for him in his room. You hadn't even noticed his weapon, or if you had, you truly were the patron god of innocence.

He allowed you to fuss over him. Allowed you to lead him deeper into your temple, until you reached an open court yard, filled with plants of all colours and sizes, soft grass below his feet. At one end a statue of Mother Wild stood, vines and flowers blooming across her figure. In the centre of it was a beautiful flowering tree, more gifts had been left here to.

He stopped you from leading him further on, his eyes set on this tree. There was magic in its very fibre, unnatural power. He could feel it.

"Everything ok soldier?" you try, hand coming to rest on his back. He flinches at the contact, it was so soft and kind. No one had touched him with such care before.

"What is this tree?" he turns to you.

"Oh! Its a magnolia tree" you grin

"No, I know that, why is it here, and why.." he stops himself, he was going to ask you why he felt power radiating from it. "why are there gifts at its base."

You give him a soft smile, gently grabbing his hand you lead you to its base. You softly bring yourself and him to the ground. White flowers fell softly to the ground. You reached a hand out to touch the bark, closing your eyes, before reopening them to look at the warrior.

"Here, give me your hand"

Without thought he places his hand in yours.

What wicked spell have you put him under.

And why does he not care to know.

With your gentle touch on his, the warrior felt heat rise deep inside him. You placed his hand on the bark, yours overlapping his.

"Do you feel it?" you whisper, voice soft and kind.

Of course he could feel it. Pure innocence, unbridled compassion and love.

He hated it.

"This tree is an extension of myself. The day I was born, when my parent's realised who and what I was, they planted this tree. They understood that they and all those who I love would grow old, die and leave me alone. This was their way of giving me a companion. The day I received my gifts and my patronage was the day I laid my parents to rest under this tree's shadow."

He watches in silence as tears well up in your eyes.

"I hadn't even turned four and ten springs yet, when...when they attacked. They were raiders from the south. Brutes, really. My parent's told me to flee, but there were younger children, pregnant women and injured men who couldn't flee, or didn't know where to flee to. So while the warriors in my village tried the best they could to defend us. I went back and forth between this tree and the village, carrying, dragging and leading all those I could to the safety of the great oak that shadows my temple. When I went back the last time, there was nothing left. Our warriors were slain and my parents...."

You break off, tears trickling down. He feels the sudden urge to wipe them from your cheek. He lets himself have the honour of doing so, and your let yourself have the pleasure of him touching you.

"Anyway, there wasn't much else I could do, so I brought them here, buried them, and cared for the survivors the best I could. It was then I was given my gifts, for my compassion for my people and my innocence in the face of death, I was given my patronage. We rebuilt our village, and life was good. But the years after I was given my final gift, were... difficult to say the least. Watching my friends grow old, have families of their own. Then watching their children age and grow grey. I... it was difficult."

You give him a pointed stare, now turning your back onto the tree and rested upon it. He removes his hand from the bark, mirroring your actions.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you plea, eyes big and soft.

"Of course my little goddess, I will take it to my grave." he sternly replies, practically giving you his oath as a holy warrior of the Eye. You thought he was joking, jesting with you after such an emotional story. You gave him a giggle and playfully smacked his chest.

"No need for that, but thank you." you trail off, thoughts of long ago in mind. He nudges you softly, eager to learn your secret.

You look back up and him and sigh, turning off into space.

"Sometimes, when I have no one to look after, and its been months, sometimes years, even, since someone has walked through my temple's door. I wish I wasn't born a goddess. I wish I could grow old, fall in love, marry, have children of my own." you look down, playing with your hands.

The warrior was troubled, yet excitement grew. You could be saved. You wished to be without the corruption of the dark forces that ran through your very being.

"But you could start a family. I have heard tales of demigods"

"Yes, but I can't" you stress turning to him. "I am the goddess of innocence, not just compassion. To bare a child would mean I am no longer innocent, therefore my powers would be stripped from me. I would be mortal again."

You huff in frustration. Even if you were able to have a child, it would still grow old, and you would be left to bury another one of your kin below your beloved tree.

The warrior was delighted. Overjoyed, perfectly happy with this news. Some gods had gifts that were hard to strip from them. How do you make the god of footprints go against footprints? Cut off their feet? Unless....

No he's getting distracted. Here he was being given his own gift, from his god. The Eye was testing him, for sure. Allow a wild goddess to continue her wicked magic, or save the mortal within. You already told him you wished to be free of your curse, the burden placed on you the moment you were born. All he had to do was take your maidenhead. Put his seed in your womb and watch it grow. And what a fine mother you would be. You had spent decades being a mother to hundreds, so what more a burden would a few of your own be. In fact he was sure your would revile in it.

You were practically begging him to fill you with his seed, with those big, soft eyes and those curves that screamed at him to take you. He was without a wife, he would have to break you in for sure. You were a wild one of course. But with a few whelps to look after and one surely in your belly, how much could you defy him?

His cock began to stir. His eyes laden with lust. You look up at him once more, brow furrowing at his darkened eyes.

"Is everything okay soldier?" you sweetly ask, actually concerned for his wellbeing.

"Let me give you the life you want, little heathen" he begs, pushing you down onto the soft grass below the tree.

"What? No! Get off!" you plead, pushing against him. He tightens his grip on your wrists.

"Give me the honour of cleansing you of your dark powers, instead allow me to gift you the honour of carrying my seed." He growls, coming down to give you a lust filled kiss.

You bite his tongue with a vengeance, the taste of blood trickles onto your tongue.

"Mother!" you scream, turning onto your belly. Reaching for the silent statue of Mother Wild. She sat impartial, watching silent and cold. You begin to sob, as the warrior pulls your hips and ass into his crotch.

"Shh, shh little goddess, it will all be over soon. You shall be my sweet wife and you shall grow fat with my child." he comforts, his words tasting like iron on your lips.

"No!" you cry, elbowing him in the nose. You get up to run, straight towards Mother Wild, you drop in front of her and beg for her help.

"Help me Mother Wild. Please!"

You were only gifted the power of healing and other small gifts that now seem useless. What could were they against a man like this? The warrior gets up with blood streaming down his chin.

"My! The little heathen has some bite, huh" he sneers, pulling his sword from its sheath. You turn to look at him in fear, surely that was not what you think it is.

"Recognise this? I drove it through your first wild gods heart, and many more of your brother and sisters since then. I wish not to harm you little goddess, but if you do not renounce your claim to your wicked birth right, then I will be forced to kill you." He almost grins at the sight of you kneeling and afraid.

'That's it heathen, fear me, fear the holy Eye.'

You turn to Mother Wild once more, pleading and begging for protection.

Nothing happens.

You sob as you are ripped from your place by the statue and dragged back to the ground under your tree. You are pushed onto the soft grass, for a moment you forget what is happening, and you are young again, watching the sky through the leaves of your tree. Your parents are still alive, you had yet to be given your gifts, and you can kid yourself into thinking life will be like this forever. You are broken from your daze as Caleen's sword is plunged into the soft dirt by your head, and you are quickly reminded what madness you found yourself in. You stare up at the warrior in front of you, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. He kneels down onto you. His blood drools out of his mouth, dripping down his chin. His eyes are filled with lust and pride.

What an evil, wicked man.

You choke back a sob in fear of what is to happen next.

"My dear one, do not cry for the life you are renouncing, cry with joy for the life we are to create." He shushes you gently, a rough hand caressing your tear stained cheeks.

"What poetry is this, that you should lose your gift of innocence the very place it was given"

[harveywritings92]

[For context Price and Gaz are on vacation: Ghost is in charge, and series of unfortunate events leads R/n into believing Ghost is somehow possessed by a demon. She asks Roach to find her a priest, cut to later at the base’s lounge. R/n sees what she thinks is smoke coming from outside she opens the lounge door to find Soap standing there in full Priest garb, Roach is next to him in a black hoodie holding a fog machine with the exorcist theme playing on his phone.]

Soap: Good evening. I believe ya require my services.

[gives R/n his card]

R/n, reading his card: "John MacTavish, Swimwear Model"? 

(R/n gives him a strange a look.)

Soap: No, turn it over.

R/n, turns the card over and reads: "John MacTavish, Exorcist"?

Soap, to Roach: That’s enough Garry.

(Roach pauses the music)

R/n: Roach, I thought you were going to find me a proper exorcist.

Soap: No need, sinner. Seen the movie, [unzips the front of his costume] got the t-shirt. Now if ya kindly moves aside I’ll locate all the pockets of malice and vibrations of doom...

[R/n reluctantly leads them to the library where Ghost is napping and talking in his sleep.]

Soap: What putrefaction is this? Garry, holy water. (Roach hands him a spray bottle) Music. (plays The exorcist theme) Be thou not afraid! (he sprays Ghost)  

[[Ghost stirs awake and starts raving out gibberish at Soap who sprays him more.]]

Soap: Ack! it speaks in tongue!

Ghost, looking around wildly: What’s goin on???!!

R/n: it’s an exorcist!

Ghost: Damn You! {tackles Soap to floor and starts throttling him.} Damn you Johnny! (Gets Soap in a head lock) Ya stupid bloody idiot! 

{Ghost manages to take the spray bottle from Soap and starts spraying him in the face with it.}

Soap: It said damn! now Garry! the stake!

[ Ghost looks behind him and is threatened by Roach with a hammer and wooden stake.]

Ghost: MY GOD!

[Roach freezes surprised that Ghost said God]

Ghost: This base has gone insane!?

R/n: That's what I've been trying to tell you.

Ghost, to R/n: You, you're unhinged.

Ghost, to Roach: You, you're demented.

Ghost, to Soap: and You, you're just you.

Soap, to Ghost in panic: Careful! Holy water's expensive! It's mixed with the urine of seven virgins.

[Ghost looks at the bottle than at Soap in disgust.]

Roach, pulling his hood off: Dude, It's just tap water.

Soap, glaring at Roach: I asked you to do one thing!

[R/n, Roach and Soap start to bicker as Ghost throws the bottle away and goes to call Price to see how long he and Gaz are going to be on holiday for? because he fears he’s not gonna last long...]

[biaonww]

"11:58 pm" reo mikage based • angst with... (hehe yall can guess for this one)

may contain errors, similar content is coincidental.

five years together, huh?

it was your anniversary today, with reo. you gave so much effort to get ready, setting the table, and cooking all his favorite foods. 

but no, he did not come. 

instead of him coming home, to be with you, his fiancè — there was a picture of him circulating on twitter, that he was caught holding another woman’s hand in public.

after that seeing that, you grip your phone tightly. all teary eyed, looking at the ring he bought you. i mean, what happened to loyalty? to trust? you have been here with him with all his hardships — his family, soccer, hell. even his relation with nagi. 

it just made you want to rot inside. a five year relation, just to lose this after knowing some random lady at a party?

but then again, what were you to do? he was rich, of course everyone would want him. but you never considered loving his wealth, you loved him. his whole entire being, you have loved devotedly. 

you decide to get up, packing your things in some random duffel bag. but you get interrupted by the sound of the door — it was reo. 

“it’s 11:58 pm.”

“you said you’d come home by 6.”

“love, let me explain—“

you turn to look at him, sobbing.

“explain?! explain that you were cheating on me?!”

“yes, it may be that. but you know i love you!”

“love me? really? but you chose to hold some random woman’s hand, than going home to celebrate our anniversary?!”

“you can have this stupid ring back. give it to her instead, since that’s what you want to lose our relation to.”

“don’t you dare remove that ring y/n.”

you look at him, daringly removing the engagement ring. 

“why not? i’m still here, but you aren’t explaining anything. so that does mean our relation isn’t important to yo-“

“no, it is! i may have spend one night with her, because i was stressed with work— the corporation. okay?!”

“then why won’t you tell me?! i’m here for you! you know that, and i always have been!”

“i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d leave. and it feels like words are stuck in my throat.”

“but that— that’s no excuse to cheat.”

you look at reo, a sobbing mess. 

“i know that.”

he says in a soft tone, and slowly goes towards you, and wrap his arms around your waist. he lifts one of his hands to your face, wiping your tears. he always thought you looked so beautiful, but not in this way. especially since he was the one that hurt you.

the one that caused you to cry. 

“please, forgive me. give me one more chance to prove myself to you. i’ll work on myself, and if i mess up, you can cut all ties with me.”

you nod hesitantly, crying on his shoulder while hugging him tightly. 

surprisingly, he did change. it may have took you some time to let him gain your trust again, but it was worth it. 

he expressed himself more, took you out on dates more like you deserved to, comforted and loved you in the right way. 

sure, there were still some ups and downs in your relation. 

but after standing with him in the alter alongside the priest right now, and him looking at you as if he adored you in so many ways…

you knew it wasn’t important to think about in that moment. 

because no human being is perfect. and also because he is the one you love. the man you envision your whole life with, the one you will be with til death do you two apart. 

“i do. i want him to be my husband.”

— fin.

alt ending for the angst lovers <3 three months past… but he still never goes back to home early. 

there was a recent article posted exactly on 9:26 pm, that the woman he met a few months ago had a ring on her finger. similiar to the engagement ring you and reo have. 

a coincidence? no. you knew it wasn’t. 

you were just deluding yourself, because you wanted to cling onto this sick love you and him have. 

so you decide to pack your things, and leave that same night you found out. 

because a cheater, is always an cheater, right?

reo comes home to the penthouse he and you owned. it lost all the warmth it had. the smell of your perfume wasn’t present anymore, your fluffy slippers you used wasn’t present as well. 

all your things was gone. your pictures with him were missing—and more.

and the promise ring he gave to you was placed on the dining table. it still had that same bling it had,

but it always seemed to shine more when you wore it.

… but he knew. that he was too late. because he knew you’d never come back to him. 

once a fragile gem breaks, it can never be glued back together.

— fin.

i made a special ending for this !! so i hope it's good <3 reblogs, follows and likes are very appreciated :) rin fic might come out tmr!! i think, if i don't get busy that is!!

[sky-kiss]

Pinned Post: Guess I Should Make One

I mean, it's a Trash House. But I probably shouldn't have just like...a bunch of loose fic just rolling around the blog. I'm going to try and keep this updated but. I mean. You and I both know I won't.

Long Fic:

Sex, Death & the Infinite Void - Chapter 1 - Sky_kiss - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

My ongoing fic, focused on Raphael's attempted conquest of the Hells. Things have not gone as smoothly as anticipated. He comes to the Dark Urge after death and makes a deal. Team Theater Kid does its best to navigate deals with Archdevils, start a cult, Joi's father manifesting in her life. Etc.

I Don't Think About You Anymore (But I Don't Think About You Any Less) - Chapter 1 - Sky_kiss - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

Ok, it's not long. A two-part fic in a sad times AU, where Raphael offered a Dark Urge a place as his consort. She refuses him. They have a terrible relationship (it gets better?)

Hell In Your Eyes - Sky_kiss - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

Raphael has a bad dream. He wants to feel in control again. So, he bangs his duchess. That's it. That's the fic. I lied. This is now a smut compilation fic.

Second Nature to Me Now - Chapter 1 - Sky_kiss - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

This is an unholy amalgamation of Baldur's Gate and My Fair Lady. No. I will not answer any questions.

A Helping Hand - Sky_kiss - Baldur's Gate [Archive of Our Own]

Haarlep/F!Tav/Ascended Fiend Raphael have a good time.

Raphael x Tav Tumblr Asks Fics: (Under the Cut. TOO MANY)

Oh, god. Why didn't I NAME any of these. The titles get unhinged:

Angry Raphael Doing Torture

Raphael Speaking Infernal to Tav is Sexy

Tav is a Moron Who Signed a Contract Without Reading It

Bathing Raphael

Tav Accepts Raphael's Offer to Go to Hell (But in a Hot Way?)

Raphael Dancing with Tav

Tav is in Danger, Raphael Saves Her

Tav Snoops Around the Devil's Den (Raph is Right There, Idiot)

Raphael Attempts A Love Confession (Local Devil Crashes/Burns)

Softer Raphael? I Think This One Involves Cuddles

Word Prompts: Love & Worth

Raphael x Haarlep: Haarlep Teaches Raph a Lesson

Raph X Tav: Sex in Front of Mirror

Raphael Get Mugged (But Not Killed!) in his OWN HOUSE

Local Devil Publicly Shamed, Emergency Contact Still His Ex

Local Devil Exploits Idiot BFF's Propensity for Dying

Devil's Boyfriend Asks Out Devil's Idiot Crush; Is Only Sane Person

Local Devil Too Lazy to Shave Himself, But Also Sexy/Shirtless

Local Devil Partners and Terrible Drow Bitch About Parents

Reader Makes Very Bad Choices with Local Ascended Fiend

Local Devil Gets a Treat (Smut)

Local Devil Reminds You He Is Not for Cuddles (He Is)

Local Devil Sandwich Local Idiot (But Cute)

Coffee Shop AU: Friends Attempt to Help Local Idiot Date Hot Man

Coffee Shop AU 2: Friends Takes Matters Into Own Hands Due to Growing Disgust and Repulsion with Local Idiot and Hot Man

Local Devil Masquerades as Priest; Local Idiot Fooled

Local Devil and Local Idiot Just Kinda Grind on Each Other?

Local Devil and Local Idiot Throwdown in Hell

Local Idiot Tries to Rob Local Devils, Is Shocked by Repercussions

Coffee Shop AU 3: Local Idiot and Hot Man Flirt After Date

Coffee Shop AU 4: Just Some Shower Cuddles

Local Idiots Saves Local Devil's Lives: Is a Threesome Currency?

Coffee Shop AU 5: Snowday

Ascended Fiend Raphael Smut

Local Devil Is Kind of Nice for Once, Offers Bath

Local Devil is Truly Over the Local Idiot's Stupidity

Raphael Solo Sexy-Time

Reader Get Wrecked By Local Devils

Local Devil is Feeling Soft for Local Idiot

Local Idiot is so Dumb She Causes Local Devil Psychic Damage

Local Devil naps on Local Idiot

Reader is Hunted by Haarlep and Ascended Fiend Raphael

Local Devil Horrified by Own Child

Local Devil Not Dead, Gets Some Horrible Revenge via Local Idiot

Huge Devil Creatures Gives Cuddles

Local Devil Really Badly Burned (But not Dead!)

Local Devil Mistaken for Tiefling (Exhausted)

Things go Very Badly for Local Idiot

Local Devil Catches a Cold

Local Devil Introduces Local Idiot To Devil Father. It's bad

Asmodeus x Baalphegor

Local Idiot Kills Devil Crush, Consults Major Devil Hottie for Help

Local Idiot has Pissed Off Local Devil, Relationship in Shambles

Local Devil Transforms Nude

Local Devil has Beautiful Hands

Coffeehouse AU: Office Hours

Local Devils go "Fishing"

Local Idiot Helps Bloody Naked Local Devil to Take a Bath

Dadphael: His Kids are Thieves

Local Idiots Gets Absolutely Destroyed by Local Devils

Local Devils are Genuinely Awful: Bad Ending

Local Demon Seduces Local Idiot

Raphael x F!Tav: Corruption Smutlet

Raphael x F!Tav: War

CoffeShop Au Part Whatever: It's Snowy or Rainy and they Cuddle

Raphael and an Angel Play Chess or Something

Raphael is really too old to be drinking milk but here we are

Doll!Tav Get Their World Rocked By Raph/Haarlep

Local Devil "Comforts" a Sad/Tired Tav

Raphael and Haarlep Wreck Local Idiot

Modern AU Snippet Channeling some House of Usher

Haarlep and Raphael have some Bath Fun

Raphael and Tav have a Kissy in Honor of Kissy Day

Raphael is not dead (but is pissed off)

Raphael is too good for sex but is still going bang you

Early Raphael/Haarlep

Raphael Lingers in Bed and has big cat energy

Post post post canon Raphael GETS THE BIG WIN

Raphael & Jaheira have a catty conversation

Random Crap (Headcanons & Stuff) & Other People's DOPE ART:

Raph x Joi: Dirty Headcanons

Joi Looks Like This

Timeskip Raphael (SHAHS, YOU QUEEN)

Raphael & Joi Shopping (Please Note the Brooch)

Simply Drew a Gorgeous Joi (Thank you!)

Simply Drew Raphael and Raphael

Commission of Duchess Joi!

Simply Drew The Cutest Raph/Joi I've Ever Seen, Go, Gaze Upon It

Simply Drew a Sexy Murder Joi (Fresh from hunting her not husband)

Commission of Archduke Raphael and Duchess Joi

Ok. I think that's all of them. You no longer have to roam the wilds of the blog if you do not wish. I have released you from that dark task. Love ya'll. You're great. /finger guns/ Send me asks if you want. If I don't get to them immediately, I apologize.

But yeah. Keep on keeping on. Keep like...being amazing for Raphael. He doesn't deserve it, and he won't appreciate it, but like...I dunno.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Random assorted stuff about the Forgotten Realms setting: For fic and roleplaying needs, or whatever. Brief stuff about language, "I'm going to kill everyone in this party except Wyll, who actually greets me like he lives in this setting," religion, magic, time and the calendar and holidays

The proper name of the world is Abeir-Toril, which translates to "the cradle of life" in an unknown long extinct language. It's abbreviated to Toril in common use. Fourth Edition decided that the Realms to retcon Abeir-Toril into being two sister worlds, Abeir and Toril, locked in orbit but not always connected so that it could force the Dragonborn in. *grognard voice* Even though there were ways to do that without literally blowing up the setting...!

You say hello by saying "well met." It's the default phrase and it's used all the time, despite only Wyll using it, for some reason.

Common is a trade tongue, simplistic so that it can be easily learnt for it to be spoken widely and understood by pretty much everyone. It is not much use for expression or for discussing complicated topics. Most people cannot read common if you wrote it down.

The language spoken in Western Faerûn (including the Sword Coast) is Chondathan, which is something like a romance language in structure. It is not unsimilar to common, but is more complex.

The majority of Faerûnian languages (including common and Chondathan) are written in the Thorass script.

Waterdeep is part of the Sword Coast North - also just called the North, and both Chondathan and the Northern language Illuskan are spoken there. Gale might speak both. (Illuskan is basically a Germanic language.)

Toril's inhabitants are polytheistic. The people worship all the gods who are relevant to their life: You pray to Chauntea for a good harvest, to Tymora for luck, to Waukeen for financial success, to Umberlee for safe sea voyages, to gods like Shaundakul and Selûne for safe travel in general... Generally you pray to the good and neutral deities for protection and help, and the evil gods in order to pacify them so they won't capsize your ship or have their priests sacrifice you or something. Some religious individuals also favour and worship one god above the others, not all of whom are clerics. Most of them are still polytheists, even clerics, and it's unusual for somebody to devote themselves to a god at the exclusion of all others. Apparently gods keep an eye open for undedicated mortals whose behaviours and beliefs align with themselves and often try to sway those mortals into worshipping them through dreams and omens and such.

All magic comes from the Weave (Mystra is the middleman between a god and their priest in this regard) and all magic is the domain of the gods. A ranger or druid must worship a nature deity who they receive their spells from, as paladins and clerics must serve a deity. Arcane spellcasters are not required to worship, and Mystra would only be allowed to cut off a mage in response to literally Earth-levelling degrees of stupidity, but many worship her by choice for similar reasons.

Days are 24 hours long. The equivalent to a week is 10 days long, and referred to as a "tenday" or, less commonly, as a "ride." Most people do not own clocks or other means of telling the time, and nobody really tries to keep track of an hour, mostly getting by through keeping an eye on the sky/light levels, as well as the activity of the people around them, and using habit and intuition.

In human lands (that is to say, pretty much all of Faerûn) the Calendar of Harptos is used. Twelve months long, 30 days in a month. It does weird leap year stuff with an additional five festival days between months, with the celebration of Shieldmeet occurring once every four years. January = Hammer - Midwinter/Deadwinter Day Feburary = Alturiak March = Ches April = Tarsakh - Greengrass May = Mirtul June = Kythorn July = Flamerule - Midsummer -Shieldmeet (occurs once every four years) August = Eleasis September = Eleint -Highharvestide October = Marpenoth November = Uktar - Feast of the Moon December = Nightal

Midwinter: Traditionally a day for making or renewing alliances between the nobility, who celebrate it with parties. If you're a commoner and you live in the North there are no parties and you call it "Deadwinter Day" and it's a day to hope your food stores hold out and that you don't freeze this year.

Greengrass is a festival to welcome spring. Traditionally, the wealthy gift flowers to the commonfolk who wear them or offer them for the gods relevant to summer (Lathander, sun god of renewal, for example)

Midsummer is about music and feasting and also pretty much it's valentines day, with betrothals and new courtships and dancing. If the weather is bad on Midsummer then that's a bad omen.

Shieldmeet is the leap day on the calendar. Traditionally rulers are to open their council to the common folk and listen to their voices on this day. Competition and tournaments (including ones for spellcasters) are a common feature in the festivals.

Highharvestide is, as the name implies, the harvest festival as the crops are all pulled in for winter. It's also the day travellers who haven't already left wherever they're staying leave before winter sets in

The Feast of the Moon is a holiday for honouring the dead and your ancestors.

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 3

Propaganda

Gable (Campaign: Skyjacks):

7ft tall sulver-haired thembo of a fallen angel. was the literal sword of god until they killed him! reasons slightly unclear but probably sure to forbidden queer love! super caring for their friends. has one friend they have known for hundreds of years who they HATE but are bound to by the red string of fate. their sword is a part of them, they can sheathe it into a tattoo. they start out indistinct at the edges but as they have continued on through the campaign they have become more and more distinct. they became a flaming engine of justice to kill their friends shitheaded older brother who was following him. they have learned enough necromancy to allow other fallen angels to die, even though they typically cannot. they fly giant birds in to battle.

7ft tall beefcake wielding a sword as tall as they are. vengeful sweetheart

Imagine now: a fallen angel with beautiful gray hair and very big muscles. Now imagine them with a 9 ft sword. Now imagine them as a helmsperson of a pirate ship in a flowy deep-v pirate shirt. Now imagine they're dumb as a fucking rock. And finally, imagine that they killed god. Here, you have made Gable Skyjacks: sexiest podcast character of all time.

7ft tall nonbinary/genderfluid thembo fallen angel sky pirate who wields a buster sword. silvergrey hair with black/gold streaks as they regain feathers/memories of before their fall. back is covered in tattoos that hide the scars of their shredded off wings. killed God. toxic exes with lucifer. they are the keeper of several giant war birds who occasionally crave human flesh. they enjoy getting rowdy/smoking rope with their boys. they collect rocks that they think are neat. When anyone admits they are attracted to them, Gable trips over their words and absolutely swaglessly ends up sounding stupider and sexier by the end of the conversation; the will they/won't they and teasing they dish out to these (un?)lucky few is palpable. Sometimes the buster sword is on fire. They are immortal, they are cringe, they are trying to atone because they believe they are the reason the world is ruined.

Hector Hu is a priest. Gable killed God. They are not the same.

I want to thank my fellow Gable nominators for doing an outstanding job showcasing the beauty and gracelessness that is Gable Skyjacks. Fight hard and take flight my friends 💪😇

Okay so aside from all of the above (giant with a matching giant flaming sword, killed god, extreme dumbass), here's some more propaganda for Gable the Godkiller.

They've escaped death multiple times with their partner in... crime? Like literally they were about to be executed in the most brutal way possible and just. Escaped and killed all their captors in the snowy wastelands.

They are the helmsperson of the Uhuru and take this job very seriously and definitely haven't left it to Bowser (you know, like from Mario) multiple times. Can steer that flying ship in horrible weather and still make it to port safely.

Healed an entire fucking hospital by cutting their hair for someone they had the hots for who was also in the hospital. Imagine being on that level of myth making in some random port city because of a hair cut.

Giant bird caretaker and also took the giant birds out on their friend's bachelor party (this was like. his Xth polyamorous marriage at this point btw) and had a fucking blast getting high on some rope and fucking around. They've also flown these birds into combat and looked cool as hell doing it (see: killing their friend's shithead of an older brother in a joust).

Had a relationship with Lucifer the Morning Star before they fell as an angel and killed God. Literally the reason the stars fell was their love for each other. The world would not look the same without Gable and they are, at the very least indirectly responsible for the creation of the Church of the Slain God and everything it represents (fantasy Catholicism).

And also yeah they are regularly tripping over themself and saying very silly things. 10/10 character we love Liz Anderson and Gable in this house

I am seeing people say that this Nicky fellow is basically trans! That's very cool! Gable is actually trans. Pronouns they/them/any presentation whatever they feel like.

Gable held a bachelor party for a BFF where the attendees hunted from their sky birds, wore dresses, and still managed to keep their eyeliner on point!

Gable killed God because he wouldn't let them be queer. They should rightfully crush anyone in their path.

Nicky Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

One armed half-demon man with a sword (also a Dedicated, Involved, Loving Father). (Specifically campaign 2, where he is an adult)

*Clanging pots and pans together* EVERYONE WAKE THE FUCK UP NICKY IS IN THE POLL TOO WE HAVE TO HELP HIM!!!!

Transmasc bisexual (or at least so widely accepted as such it's basically canon) dilf half-demon let's start with the basics

And by half-demon I mean the literal prince of Hell

But also simultaneously is Saint Nicolas get you a man who can do both specifically this man

Missing an arm cause his ex-friends tragically betrayed him and shot it off but he doesn't need two arms to show you a good time wink wink ;)

The betrayal in question forced him to be seperated from his also hot milf voice actress wife and their son which is sad but in like a way that makes him sexier

Uses his one hand to wield a flaming katana that he used to rescue his son from the FBI

Protects his family with his life very literally which is hot as hell

Big himbo energy couldn't come up with a good plan if he used 100% of his brain

When he does fail at things it's pretty cute honestly

Definitely played a variety of musical instruments before the whole arm thing happened! Maybe he still does idk he's a sexy mystery

2 in 1 deal! This man was born from the merging of two timelines! Kinda sick!!! Also two dads = twice the daddy issues

Nicky is just kind of a sexy name idk

You'd think the whole being forcibly split from his family thing would mean he isn't very close with his son but nope! His son adores him! They get along great!!!

PLEASE VOTE FOR NICKY AND I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER HE'S LITERALLY SO HOT

VOTE NICKY! HE NEEDS TO KEEP THE LEGACY ALIVE GODDAMNIT!!!!!!

nick close the man that you are

NICK NICK PLEASE OHMYGOD I WILL KILL SOMEONE NICKYYYYY VOTE FOR HIM I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU PLSPLSPSLSPS

His mom is simultaneously alive and dead

His mom bagged fucking two different dudes (one of whom FOUND HER DEAD in a different timeline, both of which are demons)

HIS MOMS NAME IS MORGAN FREEMAN, HIS DAD’S NAME IS GLENN CLOSE, AND HIS OTHER DAD’S NAME IS JODIE FOSTER, AND HIS GREAT SOMETHING GRANDFATHER’S NAME IS MERYL STREEP

HIS SONS NAME IS TAYLOR SWIFT

Lifelong pot smoker 👍 (plus drug flower user!!)

CANONICALLY BOTH A POLO WEARER (and yes, has all the stereotypes of that attached with it — a nerd, which is hot) AND A LEATHER JACKET WEARER (which also has all the stereotypes attached with it — a rebel dude person, which is also hot) [<- all widely accepted as canon by the fandom even as he’s older]

A part of the SECOND BIGGEST ship of season two, (Nark) despite the two characters only having one-two canon interactions (one of which JUST happened last episode)

Man’s a himbo what’s hotter than that

So many fucking names. You try to tag him in anything and he takes up half the space. That’s probably hot. For someone out there

This was already mentioned but so very very trans. Like. It’s basically canon

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE VOTE NICKY WE NEED A CLOSE/FOSTER FAMILY SWEEP PLSPLSLSLSLS

Rock and roll(er)

Joined a group of thieves called the watermice when he was like 13

for a few minutes had a guitar called the Battle Axe of Hatred

definitely had an frienimies with benefits relationship with his childhood friend Lark (sorry ppl that don’t ship nark lol) (it’s canon after ep 44 hah)

LETS GO NICKY YOU GOT THIS !!!!!

I feel like the audio of the entire Nick-breaking-into-the-FBI scene should be propaganda, but I'm copying select bits from the transcript:

Anthony: Yeah, it kind of echoes up through the vent, like the beginning of Metal Gear Solid. You hear a voice that strikes you as ever so slightly familiar, Taylor. Saying—  ??: [a deep voice] [echoing in the vent] Where is he?  Anthony: You hear—  Will: Uh-oh, he’s hot.  Anthony: —a bunch of shouting voices.  [giggles]  Beth: Uh-oh! Anthony: You hear a bunch of shouting voices and people shouting for him to get down on the ground to turn off his flame. To fucking get his hands behind his back. You hear this rhythmic stepping forward— because his footsteps don't sound like anybody else's because it's almost like… y’know when you toss a little bit of water onto a really hot pan and it just sizzles like that? It's like every footstep he's taking, you can hear that— Freddie: Cool  Anthony: — and you can feel some of that heat coming up in this vent, even though you can't see him at this point. And he goes—  ??: [echoing] Where. Is. My. Boy? Anthony: You hear the FBI agent—the FBI in quotation marks agent—in the back going like—  Agent: [echoing] He's safe for now. If you want to go ahead and make sure that he stays that way, you feel free to go ahead and step inside the suite that we've prepared for you, my boy. Anthony: And you hear the hot guy voice saying—  [chuckles]  The Hot Guy: [echoing] I don't think that's going to happen.

...

[a powerful rush of air builds] Anthony: You hear—  [gunfire, and the air rush culminates in a burst of flame; from underneath the fire, metal music starts playing] Anthony: —plumes of flame exploding.  [a person’s pained shout, gunfire and bursts of flame continue]  Anthony: You can feel the heat radiating through this metal vent and it's actually beginning to hurt and burn your hands.

...

Anthony: And you hear blood—  [sizzling]  Anthony: —hitting the fucking ground and you hear sizzling and things boiling and burning. Taylor: That could just be coffee! That could just be coffee. Link, let's go. Anthony: And you are getting closer and closer to the elevator. And you hear that same hot voice say—  The Hot Guy: [echoing] Where the hell is Taylor?

Fourteen Fifteen (Friends at the Table: Twilight Mirage):

Body-swapping assassin doomed to die from the beginning. All their different forms are hot! The Gunslinger! The singer! The lawyer! The robot! The inevitability of death!

Literally what character has more trans swag than an assassin who every time they die, they get a new body

#ohhh i know it's a huge TM spoiler but somebody needs to link the elevator murder scene #truly thee fourteen fifteen moment

a favorite bit of the transcript, for good measure:

Art of Nicky by @llumimoon.

[aalyssah]

Stupid Airport Man

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst/Fluff!

Word Count: 1,795

Summary: During a busy day at the airport, a man gets a little too touchy and rowdy, making the security guard, Damian, defend you.

A/N: I don't know if anyone's ever wrote for Security Guard!Damian, but Hope You Enjoy!

Working at the airport was your favorite job.

You got to meet new people, talk about where they were heading, and even see some famous people such as celebrities, actors, and even wrestlers.

Speaking of that, your security guard is a part time wrestler. On days he doesn't work, he's coming to take control of the airport, but other days, he's wrestling on TV for millions of people.

You walk through the doors, getting ready to clock in when your co-worker stops you. "Hey Y/n!" You smiled at your friend's voice. "Hey Amber, ready for this eventful day?"

Amber playfully shook her head. "God no, there's gonna be so many people, I don't know if this place will be able to hold that much." You chuckled at her words, putting your bag down.

Christmas was coming up in 2 months, but that didn't stop people from starting to travel early. You've seen the pattern over the years to know that at the beginning of October, people start to travel.

"Well, I heard that Damian's gonna be working every other week, so that's good, right?" A smile was brought to your face at the mention of his name. Damian was your favorite security guard.

He was over 6 feet tall, had cool tattoos, and a good personality. Over the months he's been working you two have become great friends and maybe even more in your eyes.

You didn't know that you zoned out until you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around, seeing Damian standing in front of you. "Oh, hey Damian!"

Amber slowly slithered away like a snake, leaving you two to talk. "Hey, ready for the busy day?" You nodded your head. "Yep, I brought a snack for every hour." Damian laughed at you, looking down at you with adoration.

You were so cute.

"You have a harder job than me! You have to check all those people. Do you know how many people that is in an hour?" Damian only shrugged his shoulder, easily brushing it off.

"Oh, it's nothing. When you're big, tall, and strong like me, they have no choice, but to cooperate." You rolled your eyes at him getting cocky. "And cute too." You winked, a blush filling his cheeks.

The man might be a bad guy on TV, but in real life he was just a big teddy bear.

Your little conversation was cut short when Amber came over. "Alright lovebirds, the people are about to come in 5. Y'all can talk during lunch break."

Damian whined. "Awe, lunch break? That's in like 4 hours!" You all shared a laugh, before people started walking in with their luggage.

Amber got back to her place behind a register, Damian giving you one last look. "If you have any problems, call me and I'll be over faster than flash." You gave him a short nod before getting to your register.

You watched as Damian searched people and patted them down before giving them the okay to go. Many people fled the stores, trying to get some snacks or something to eat.

It wasn't long until a line was formed at you and Amber's registers, and many people were ordering food. You were taking orders and ringing people.

It was until someone who was probably new here skipped the whole line. From the moment he got searched and patted down he walked beside the line, pushing the person in the front to the side.

"Hey, I'm hungry!" You were taken aback by the man's sudden appearance. "Uh, sir, you can't skip the line. You have to go to the back."

The man scoffed, pulling out his card. "Lady, I said I'm hungry. I would like a burger with tomatoes-" His words fell dead on your ears as you looked around the airport.

People in the line were looking angry and confused. Who is this guy and why was he skipping them? "Aye, did you get that!?" You jumped at the man's loud voice.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't take your order right now. You need to go to the back." The man began complaining. "This is ridiculous. All I'm trying to do is get some food, but your acting like such a bit-"

You let out a breath of relief when Damian came behind the man. "Is there a problem here?" The man stopped talking at the sudden deep voice.

He turned around, tilting his head up to look at Damian. "Yeah, this lady won't give me food!" Damian looked at you for an answer, but someone from the line answered for you.

"No! This man skipped the whole line and is being rude to her!" Damian's eyes grew dark at the accusation of the man.

"You wanna be rude to women, huh?" Damian asked, grabbing the man by his shirt. "I'm not gonna throw you out, but you need to get to the back." Damian practically dragged the man all the way to the back, saying something you couldn't hear.

I can take whoever was next." You called out, the line getting back to normal.

It took almost 30 minutes to get the line shortened, but you were soon face to face with the man from earlier.

He looked annoyed, but when he saw you, anger took over his face. "Finally! I've been waiting almost half an hour to get something to eat! Y'know, you really screwed me over back there, sending me to the back. All I wanted was some food."

You ignored the man's words, putting on a fake smile. "What can I get you sir?" The man began to order a lot of things, making it hard for you to keep up.

"Wait, you said you want the nuggets or tenders?" The man groaned at your question. "I said both! And then maybe a hashbrown, actually no, wait yes, eh, I don't know." You gave him a confused look, not knowing what he wanted.

"So do you want it or..." The man gave you the dirtiest look. "Stop rushing me! I don't know!" You let out a sigh, resting your head against your hand.

"And I- what? Are you tired of me? Well that's too damn bad! Now give me a large Coke with extra ice and that's all." You looked down at the cash register, seeing only half of the food he ordered there.

You stayed silent, fearing what would happen if you asked him to repeat his order. "Okay that'll be $48.23." The man let out a shocked gasp. "Goddamn that's high. Y'all really are scamming people out here."

You stay silent, knowing if you say something he'll argue back. "Your food will be out in 30 minutes, please go have a seat." The man gasped. "30 minutes!? That's ridiculously long!" You ignored the man, walking back to get some food.

After 30 minutes, you and Amber walked to the man’s table with 3 plates in hand each. You both placed the plates down, going back to get more and once all the plates were there the man examined everything.

"Hold up, where's my hashbrown?" You looked at him nervously. "You said you didn't know, so I gave you half." The man shook his head, pushing the plate away.

"That means yes! I don't know means yes, meaning give me a whole hashbrown, not half!" You let out a sigh, rubbing your forehead. "Sir, I don't know what to tell you. You ordered a whole lot of stuff and I couldn't keep up, so you're gonna have to eat what's here." The man stood up, breathing heavily. "Are you calling me fat?!"

You let out a nervous laugh. "N-no sir. I'm just saying there was a lot of food and I'm sorry that you couldn't get what you wanted." The man didn't take your words too kindly, as he began shaking his head.

You looked at him confused, thinking he was having a mental problem. "Sir are you-" Your sentence was cut off when you were roughly grabbed and pulled towards him.

"I want all my fucking food you dumb bitch!" You let out a cry of pain when the man's hands dug into your skin. "Stop, sir, stop!" People began yelling, scared at the crazy man. Other men were ready to fight the man, but Damian was quicker than everyone.

He almost tackled the 'poor' guy, freeing you from the guy's hold. Damian began punching the guy, until he saw blood. The man's blood was spilled out his mouth, groans of pain and curse words falling from the man's lips.

Other men around went to grab Damian off the guy after a real cop came. The man could barely stand up as the cops took him away.

Amber was at your side, making sure you were okay. "Oh my god, Y/n!" She gave you a hug, checking over your body. "Are you okay?" You nodded your head, sniffling a little.

You could feel tears come to your eyes at the memory of the whole situation. Another cop came by, asking you questions before going to Damian. You could see how tense he was.

When the cops left with the man Damian came over to you. “Hey, you okay?” You gave him a small smile. “Yeah, that was just so unexpected.” Damian nodded his head. “Can I check you?” You held your hands out, letting him look over your body.

His hands came to your arm, his soft hands gliding over your skin. “Sorry I wasn’t fast enough. I should’ve never let him stay.” You shook your head, taking his hand in yours. “No it’s not your fault. Some people are just rude and evil.”

You brushed some of his hair from his face, smiling when you saw his eyes. He slowly leaned down to you, both of you locking your lips together. The kiss was slow and gentle as Damian gently pulled you closer to him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, never wanting to let him go. The sound of your friend cheering made you two break apart. “Yes! Finally! It’s about time you two kiss!” You hid your face in Damian’s chest, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Take the day off. You’ve had a stressful day. I got it.” You pulled your face away from Damian’s chest, looking at Amber. “Are you sure? I can stay if-”

Amber quickly cut you off. “Nope! You and Damian take the day off and relax. I’ll be fine. Now go!” And with her words, you and Damian left the airport and back to your house to hangout.

You’ve had a very ‘eventful’ day, but you gotta admit, because of that stupid airport man, he’s got you with the love of your life.

[sexhaver]

i wanna prod at ur catholic confession post actually. like yes, murder and child rape is obviously bad and there is an inherent problem with how the catholic church shields abusers. but i think removing some of the restrictions of what a priest can or cannot say about a confession could cause some problems. like, for example, how a lot of priests considerer LGBT people to be child abusers/predatory! hypothetically if the cath church made it so preists could openly condemn confessions guilty of child abuse, and if the church considers identifying as LGBT as child abuse, then that could cause problems if someone confessed to IDing as gay/trans. or alternatively, what if someone confesses to killing a rapist/sexual abuser. a priest could use that confession to testify against them and get them imprisoned. is it ok to imprison people for murdering their abusers? idk, but i dont like the idea of the catholic church having that power having a blanket statement that priests cant mention ANY confessions makes it *slightly* more immune to corruption IMO. obviously i dont think this solution is perfect, but my alternative would be to dissolve the catholic church entirely, and i dont think thats happening anytime soon.

well as you point out there isn't really a good solution to this, and that is because the idea of confession is inherently dumb as fuck. everything the catholic church considers a sin falls into one of three categories:

failing to be pious enough (forgetting to pray, missing church, taking the Lord's name in vain). keeping these secret is fine because they aren't, like, actual crimes, and in small + devout enough communities there are definitely priests who would gossip about to their neighbors if not for the confessional seal.

really cool and good activities that are only an issue if you were raised to believe that they would send you to eternal neverending torture after death (jacking off, being gay, having premarital sex, getting/considering an abortion). these should obviously be kept secret because they're embarrassing and potentially dangerous. however, this is kind of a moot point, because any decent person (priest or otherwise) would understand this without needing a confessional seal making it official. so these need the seal to stop the average priest from tattling to a kid's parents when they confide in them.

actual literal crimes with prison sentences and everything (rape, murder, manslaughter, assault). you should not be telling anyone about these if you can help it. what the fuck guys. this isn't even an ethics thing, this is a "don't be fucking stupid" thing. if you murdered your abuser and got away with it, good for you! now shut the fuck up about it because murder is still illegal. is the guilt eating you alive so badly that you need absolution from God about it (cringe)? do what Protestants figured out centuries ago and cut the middleman out of the equation by talking to the J.C. directly via personal prayer! yes i am aware this is heretical. if you care about heresy more than getting caught you are stupid.

so looking at the three points above, the best argument in favor of confessional seal that i can formulate is "sure, it allows murderers and abusers to literally have their actions condoned by God with the explicit guarantee of never being held legally accountable or even changing their behavior (just say a few Hail Maries), but think about the consequences of removing it! priests would be even MORE bigoted than they already are! some of them might even GOSSIP!" like hm, okay, i hear you, you make some excellent points, i think we should nuke the Vatican

[needle-noggins]

And because I couldn't resist, I made an entire universe for my Pirates of the Caribbean AU for Stryfewood week. I even have ideas for Legato and Knives and how to incorporate the lore of POTC with Trigun plants, etc... I may have gotten a little carried away.

Anyway, here's the main trio:

Captain Vash Saverem, the Typhoon, captain of The Geranium: Wanted in seven countries for piracy, this legendary pirate is surrounded by mystery. Some sightings of his ship with crimson sails, The Geranium, go back a hundred years, despite the captain looking no older than 25. Captain Vash is the most elusive pirate on the high seas, but everyone who has met him personally can attest to his clumsiness and stupidity. Is he blessed by pure luck, drunk, or hiding a terrifying aptitude for violence? No one really knows. There are also rumors of his connection to fish folk, but no one older than 12 believes in mermaids anyway, at least - not anymore. The world's getting smaller, the edges of the map filled in, and mankind has yet to find the old creatures of myth.

Meryl Stryfe, governor's daughter: Being the governor's daughter, Meryl grew up well-educated and well-socialized. However, when it came time for her to accept the hand of the local commodore, an unfortunate accident led to her near-drowning, saved only by the notorious Captain Vah . Meryl has since been sailing the high seas and wants desperately to clear the name of the pirate who rescued her, while hoping to return to a normal life and eventually marry a man she actually loves, not one her parents find advantageous.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood, "priest" and assassin: A preacher's apprentice from a small missionary, Wolfwood is trusted locally. However, the preacher has a long list of enemies and an unusual relationship to religion, so he's become more a trained assassin than anything. Survival is paramount, and if Wolfwood is going to spread the good word, he is going to have to fight for it, colonize and conquer. Missionaries, after all, are not protected by peace alone. He's hired by the East India Trading Company's very own Legato Bluesummers to track down a pirate who had been causing issues along trade routes. Through a series of unusual circumstances, he meets said pirate, none other than Captain Vash, and he reunites with his brother Livio. Wolfwood then finds himself in league with the mysterious Millions Knives, captain of The Flying Siren, all while trying to fulfill his duties and clear his own name after becoming associated with Captain Vash. On top of all this, he's still pining for his oldest and dearest friend, Meryl Stryfe, even if she seems to have tagged along for the sole purpose of harassing him.

closeups under the cut!

[fruitsoxs]

hello socks:)) I absolutely loved both your jealousy drabbles, and the midnight munchies too, thank you so much!! there's this thought that's been in my head for a while, may I ask a drabble about it? if you feel like it, of course!

Since No Man's Land is a huge desert, people obviously wear practical clothes more than anything (a priest being the exception that proves the rule), so how about Wolfwood and Vash seeing their crush (reader) in elegant, fancy clothes for the first time?

sorry this took so long!! i wasn't exactly sure how to go about this for awhile lol

warnings; some slight nsfw on wolfwoods end. nothing too graphic though!

Vash

It’s  a bit of a shock when Vash gets the invitation. He had just got done saving some random kid from a group of bandits, he had no idea she was the daughter of some family

The father immediately offers to host a celebration to thank Vash for saving his kid

Because he’s humble, Vash says it’s not necessary, but the family insists. So he’s stuck going to a random fancy event as the man of the hour

He invites you, because of course he does. There’s nobody he’d rather go with

You are given some money to buy clothes and Meryl takes you and runs

She helps you pick out the nicest clothes she can find

It’s not what you’re use to, but you can’t deny the fact you look kind of good

The night of the celebration you meet Vash outside the inn you’re staying at

You look…well.. Amazing

Your hair is done, your clothes are beautiful, and you have this shy unsure smile that makes Vash want to melt

His jaw is on the floor

He can’t stop looking at you.

“You…look…wow.” is all he can probably say. Something dumb because he can’t find the words to describe you.

He cannot stop looking at you the entire night

At the party everyone is trying to flood his attention, but all he wants to do is be with you lol

Asks you to dance, and his hands are all shaky

It’s a really sweet, soft moment. 

HOWEVER 

Everything comes to a stop when somebody recognizes him as a wanted criminal lol

Suddenly the two of you are being chased through the city in your fancy clothes

He keeps apologizing, but you just smile and laugh

You truly do love him

“I’m sorry-” he gasps for the millionth time that evening. Pressed behind a wall, hiding from any prying eyes. You shake your head. “It’s fine Vash. It happens.” you whisper. You’re trying to catch your breath after being chased down the street. “It’s not fine.  It was such a nice evening, and I ruined everything.” he mumbles, his gaze cast downwards.

You sigh. “Vash seriously-” He cuts you off. “I mean the food was great, and the dancing was amazing, and you look beautiful! It should have been a nice night, but of course just me existing-” this time you cut him off, pressing your lips against his softly. He lets out a shocked gasp, but eventually his arms wrap around you as he kisses back.

It’s  a soft kiss. 

When you pull away, he’s smiling again. “Vash, I had fun tonight. I have fun with you every night. I don’t mind being chased around a bit.” you mumble, face still close to his. “You didn’t ruin anything.” you end this statement with a small peck on his lips. “I promise.”

He pulls you in for a hug, pressing your face against his chest. “I’m glad.” 

Wolfwood

Wolfwood is fully confused about the entire ordeal

He doesn’t understand the need to sneak into some party

No matter how many times you explain to him that you’re trying to get some information he doesn’t get it.

But whatever, he’ll play along. Maybe the food will be good- and there might be some fancy rich person champagne 

He puts on some stupid suit - it isn’t much different from what he usually wears. He just actually has to button it up (a shame)

And he waits for you to get done with whatever you’re doing to get ready

When you walk out, he has to keep himself from physically reacting

You look…stunning 

He begins to think this party might not be such a bad thing if he gets to see you like /that/

He smirks playfully and offers you his arm

You know that smirk means he’s planning something devious, but you just sigh and take his arm so he can escort you to the party

You have to sneak in, but it’s pretty easy. Wolfwood distracts the guards, and you flash them your best smile. 

Once you’re in you immediately start crawling around to look for the information you want- but wolfwood has other plans

He likes you. He likes you a whole lot, and he wants to enjoy this evening with you

He starts pulling you to the dance floor, making some excuse that you two gotta act the part

It’s kind of a clumsy dance, but you have fun

By the end of it, his hand goes a bit lower and you look at him with your lips parted

You don’t get the information you want

Instead wolfwood takes you into a secluded room so he can have you all to himself 

And he /finally/ kisses you…and maybe a bit more

His lips are on yours as his hands travel downwards. You whine a bit and push against him, trying to tell him it’s not the time for this. He doesn’t care. He just shoves his tongue into your mouth and pulls you closer, gripping your waist tightly. You let out a soft moan and give up, letting him do as he wishes. You want this too- to hell with what your original plans were.

He smiles a bit, and nobles on your lips as he pulls away. “Good.” he mumbles, his voice dropping an octave lower. His hands continue to travel down until the door to the room you’re in starts to open. You grab onto him and quickly pull him in the closet. He lets out a soft gasp, but follows your direction.

Before anybody can see you, you’re trapped inside the small room, back pressed against the closet door with Wolfwood hovering above you, his arms on either side of your head. His body is so close to yours. On the other side of the door you hear two people start to fight, but you don’t care. Not when Wolfwood drops his head to press his lips against your neck. It seems you’re in for a long night.

[single-malt-scotch]

Bdubs' speech patterns & quirks

i made a post a while back about Bdubs' typing habits and ya know what. ill be a little stupid obsessed and unhinged again and do this one. might be useful for fics.

been watching this man from day one and im trying to throw together everything i can in my head. he really hasnt changed that much if we arent considering a shift of humor and energy-- but i will regard it at certain points for clarity of how his speech is handled.

General speech pattern

Through time Bdubs has gained more energy in his voice, and more confidence in how he speaks as a person presenting in his videos. But he still has his quirks, quirks that have remained forever.

biggest one. There is a big habit of stuttering in some sense. Either on the same words with the intended phrase:

Example: "You-- you don't- you don't understand!"

or a phrase that is altered during the stutter:

Example: "Yeah but-- you-- I don't think you get it..."

They aren't the stutters people default to in most cases (no "y-yes" "i th-thought.." etc-- in *some* cases you can throw this in but i suggest the bigger ones and never make it too frequent).

Theyre long and very obviously, and make him take longer to get his words out. sometimes it cuts his train of thought and he stops his sentences, maybe even starts over entirely.

in addition to that, bdubs also cuts words in a way i think most people will- goin', gonna, thinkin' etc. however at times he will enunciate the whole word for effect (plays into his "exaggeration" described below)

With his awkward pacing and stumbling, there are times where he fumbles and might say something in a "weird" way. sometimes, it becomes purposeful! he'll keep doing it when its funny, but you can tell its more of a slip than on purpose at first. there are far too many examples of this, but its obvious that he picked up the funny way of saying 'hermitcraft' on purpose at a certain point, for example. this may be hard to get across in writing however and its not as important.

bdubs loves to exaggerate. personality wise, hes like this obviously. and it plays into how he talks. boisterous is the best word. dont be afraid to go hard on the exclamation points or question marks! "!!" and "??" may describe what you want when you need to imply more of his noise.

Exclamations, regarding swearing

Bdubs doesnt swear anymore, but its worth addressing it, in context to what... replaces it, in a sense. or if youre writing something based in the years when he did swear.

Lets get one thing straight. bdubs does not say fuck. like, even back when he swore. there may have been some very light instances of words slipping (the old video where he completely bleeped out his words may have likely had that) but it is not how he spoke on the regular.

bdubs' most used 'bad' words were "damn", not as often "ass". he used a lot of 'safe' words-- shoot, crap (crapper, directed at someone/thing), frick (fricker, directed at someone/thing), dang ('dang man'), freaking (this is exclaimed very strong when it comes up, as if he was saying "fucking". comment phrase "very freaking funny!")....

these are the most frequent choices. id say bdubs has the capability of more swears, but it would be a last resort/under extreme duress.

Other notable phrases

Some of these fall under 'exclamations' at times, but i wanted to address the phrases he says in response to things, one subject is what people like him say in place of things like "oh god". you can see this in some hermits too, but bdubs does not say "oh (my) god". there is no exclamation of "god" when he needs to say something like this.

some are more or less frequent in the overall timeline, but you will likely hear...

"judas priest!" "oh goodness!" "oh jeez/jeezer!" if there is any phrase regarding god its a sorta "dont use the lord's name in vain" situation. none of the "oh god" stuff.

in terms of other frequent phrases,

"Trying my heart out/off" pops up a lot, and it means that he is trying hard at something whilst also saying he is 'putting his whole heart into it'.

Older/less frequent these days:

the good ol 'pet names'. it is/was never a super frequent thing (that bdubs/etho ooge video was surprisingly frequent...) "sweetheart" is most likely, "baby" but not always in a 'pet name' way, just a casual word to throw out at nothing. might get a "darlin'" in there too. the instance of calling someone specific those things is not super common, but still important to note.

a final notable one is "boy", directed at others in a more like. jokingly stern way. "What are you doin' boy?" a direct aim at a person, perhaps in a (joking) accusatory way at times? (wanted to comment there was an early ooge instance where etho picked it up as well lol). and imo i saw this way more in the early days, less so now.

Conclusion

bdubs has a variety of expressions in his speech. generally very relaxed and sometimes even careless, hes not tryin to focus too hard on every word he speaks. which is only natural! imo i think his personality is what affects this more than anything. hes silly, extroverted, and acts first.

his 'loudness' and stutter is important and it can be hard to express through words. outside of the way you describe the way he tackled talking in fics, seriously dont be afraid to double those punctuation marks imo. definitely dont be afraid of those big 'stutters'!! its probably the most defining part of his voice imo. i hope this is useful and feel free to add on or ask about it!

[narcissisticnugget]

stupid honakana comic that came from the void

text in bubbles under cut

Comic #1

Kanade: So Honami and I are getting married

Ena + Mizuki : Congrats!

Kanade: But now we need to sort out all the details...

Mafuyu: I can be the priest

Mizuki: You're ordained, Yuki?

Mafuyu: Yeah, my mom made me in middle school

Ena: They let kids do that?!?

Kanade: Well, Mafuyu, if you don't mind... (Mafuyu: nods)

Comic #2

Honami: Asahina-senpai! Thank you for ordaining our wedding! (I made you a pie as thanks!)

Mafuyu: ...Thank you.

Comic #3

THE LESBIANS GOT MARRIED!

[somuchbetterthanthat]

A little Gwen&Alice with heaavy alice/sam, because I needed to write something after that last ep and tumblr ficlets are less intimidating than full fics.

In hindsight, hiding in the loo is dumb. Sam's making her dumb, which is aggravating and bothersome and does not horribly ache like it used to, before, in those last few weeks they'd stayed together in the same flat while Sam prepared his trip abroad. Alice's a Cool Girl. Cool girls don't hide in bathrooms because their best friend who just so happen to be their ex arrived to the office at the arm of another woman with the sparkly bubbly smile that screams I had such a good time this weekend Celia is awesome at sex.

Then again, Alice's pretty sure her Cool Girl's crown's been stolen the moment Celia walked in with those stupid donuts for the first time (and it is painful, in a way, that Celia is cool to hang around with; pretty and fun and chill and blessed with the same ability Sam has to be friendly with everyone she meets immediately).

Whatever; Alice's excellent at building new narratives and looking away to survive. She'll withstand having Sam back in her life and then feeling like she's loosing him all over again like a fucking champ -- but she has to admit, hiding in the loo was just not a good move, 'cause now she's got to not only deny her sad moody depressing feelings, but also the fact that Gwendolyn Bouchard is clearly weeping on the stall next to hers.

"Hey," she whispers, after three long minutes of wondering whether she wants to deal with this, then deciding it's the sort of night where she'd definitely rather think of someone else's problems than her own.

There's mouvement on her left, then a sharp exhale. "What?" hisses Gwen.

"Want to tell me what this is all about?" Alice asks, staring at the door.

"No," Gwen snaps. Then: "We're in a bathroom, Alice, for god's sake, do you have any sort of decorum--"

"Exactly!" Alice cuts her off. "We're in a bathroom. That's basically being in a confessional for us ladies, innit? Sure we're not drunk out of our heads at the club or whatever, but I think this qualifies all the same. Everything you'll say is sacred in here my dear. Any sin is between you, me, and those awful scratchy paper roll that we're always out of. Hope you've got an handkerchief ready, by the way."

It must strike a nerve, because Gwen stays silent for a good thirty seconds before she mutters: "Anyone could come in."

"Oh, please," Alice snorts. "We both know Lena's not human enough to have to use the loo and Celia's too busy getting lost into Sam's eyes, we're fine."

"Why do you say that?" Gwen asks, her tone suddenly more alert.

"...'Cause Celia is getting lost in Sam's eyes? I mean, I know you have your whole thing going on and you're wayy better than us now that you got that shiny promotion you wanted so much, but they've literally been building this whole sickening little office romance just in front of our noses for like, two months, surely you haven't missed that. Kinda surprised you haven't actually told them this was against regulations or whatever."

"No not Celia, I don't care about her, or whatever's going on with Sam (Lucky you, Alice thinks meanly, and has to bite her tongue very hard). I mean about Lena. Do you think she's --" Gwen stops, exhales shakily. "Now, that'd be ridiculous. Obviously. She's nothing like --"

Oh, Alice thinks. Oh, Gwendolyn. She wishes people would listen to her, when she says to look away. Sam and Gwen are similar that way, she notes. All too ready to dig themselves into messes that are much too big for them to take on.

"I was making a joke," she tells Gwen. "I do that, sometimes. Oh, not very often of course, you know me, all too serious for this sort of nonsense, but I have heard before that it can lighten the mood here and there--"

"God, you are unsufferable."

"Is that how you talk to your priest, Gwendolyn? Shame on you."

"I'm leaving now. This is all pointless, and we've got work to do anyway."

"Do we ever," Alice sighs.

"You've been here for like, twenty five minutes, by the way," Gwen adds. "If you want to keep pretending you're not the one mooning over Sam, you might want to come out soon."