#and then they just faded into nothingness :

[mitsukitsume]

Our own world.

Pov: Nothing else matters when it's you and him...

It was another regular day for you. You were laying in bed hearing your boyfriend move about,doing his work.

"Do you want some tea?"

He asked you. You smiled in response.

"Alright, I'll make some for you too. It's a new flavour I saw. I hope it's good."

You continued to lay and relax in the soft comfort of your bed. He sat down for a minute and you heard the him typing something on his desktop.

"I'll be there in a minute."

After a few seconds, you heard his footsteps coming towards you. He bent down and pecked your lips. It made your heart flutter. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you shifted slightly in your bed. He pulls up after placing a few more kisses. He lets out a small chuckle. You heard the sheets rustling as he laid down beside you.

"I was thinking of planning some sort of trip.."

You heard him say..

"it's just so busy with your schedule and my own that we just...don't have time. I wish we'd get to be more close together. I always look forward to spend my time with you."

You again smiled hearing him say.

"i know you want to spend time with me too and I also know that work is important. But taking a break is also very important you know..."

He said to you. He shifted a bit closer to you.

"Mmm..like the view?"

He teased. You chuckled at his attempts to fluster you.

"I definitely like mine...I don't know how I got so lucky..."

You smiled shly upon hearing his flirtatious teases. It went on for a few moments. You shifted in your bed slightly. You kept listening to him talking about his day..work.. passions...and most importantly..he talked about you two and what a life he wanted with you. It was all going so well until you heard a slight change in his voice..it..went..lower..?

"Huh?"

You thought to yourself. The smiling lightning up your face fades away as you hear his voice slowly fade away as well...

"The audio ended...?"

You picked up your phone to see that the audio did end. You were staring at the blank screen of the YouTube video with the replay button being the center of attention. Suddenly..unease flooded your heart as you put your phone down and looked around the room. The sounds of love...laughter...and life were now being replaced with the haunting sounds of your loneliness. The bizzare void of nothingness in your heart. It felt so heavy yet so hallow.

You again picked up your phone to quickly replace the ended video with another...you school through YouTube endlessly hoping to find something to ease the pain in your heart. To play the role of love you never got. To fill the void in your heart with comfort.

You had no one.

No one to ever fill these empty places. No one to love. No one to run to. No one to cry to. No one to laugh with.

No matter how many audios you listened to...deep down you knew it was all in your head. The reality that you hated so much, that you longed to escape from is going to come back to you one way or another. You can turn away from the truth but you can't ever deny it. The only weapon you had against war with reality was your imagination.

You wiped a tear from your eye as you almost started to panic at the thought of utter loneliness. That was until the sound of his voice filled your ears again and there you were...in your own world..with him..

"Darling! are you home?"

You shifted in your bed and smiled hearing him call you darling... Lost in bliss only to return to the pain...again.

[still-fatemeh]

Pandora's Box

Dark era! Dazai osamu x reader

(The reader has a name and a physical description, but feel free to ignore it as you please. I just have a hard time writing a fic without imagining the reader first. The reader's name is tomie. Takes after Tomie Yamazaki, the lady Dazai sensei committed double suicide with. Of course, it doesn't nod back to the real person, I'm just using the name.)

Word count: 1.5k

Her eyes scanned the bar's atmosphere with an expression coated in aloofness, only to land on the bottomless pit of nothingness that was dazai's sole visible eye.

"Aren't you planning to tell me the occasion, dazai-kun?" She said as she sipped the drink, letting the familiar burn of alcohol bring its comfort.

Dazai merely eyed her, looking half-amused and half-bored. Tomie looked like a doll wearing human's skin, a porcelain doll whose life was sucked away of all colour and vibrancy, as if she belonged among the dead. He had no doubt she's long been this way. But there was a beauty to it, to kiss a dangerous doll crafted by the melancholy of this world.

The Shadow Assassin.

Port Mafia's solo assassin with a dangerous ability suited for killing people in close proximity, using infection. A drop of blood from her delicate finger could infect a blade, and the most shallow cut from it would be fatal. But as soon as the blade got out of her close proximity, it'd lose its infectious capabilities.

He sighed quietly and took another sip of his drink. Then, he spoke:

"The occasion? I'm just drinking away my problems."

"From the “occasion”, I meant the reason you wanted me here."

The response was supposed to have a hint of irony in it, but dazai failed to find any humour in her words.

Dazai tilted his head to side, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Ah... you caught me."

He muttered while staring off into space, leaning casually against the counter.

"The truth is, that I have something I need to ask you."

It wasn't often he asked her for favours with such downcast expression, she noted mentally. He knew his ways, how to put on an airy flirty smile and play the charmer. But this wasn't anything like that. She disliked that facade more than anything in the world...

"Go on, ask away."

She hummed, tapping her fingers absent-mindedly on the bar's counter.

Restless and relentless, the tapping was, he thought.

He smirked, his gaze never leaving her, but he didn't speak right away. He took a deep breath in and out. His mouth twitching a little as he thinks.

"...can you do me a favour, tomichan?"

She raises a brow, eying him with a gaze full of suspicion. Apparently, she couldn't fathom the reason behind him beating around the bush.

"Just say what you want from me."

Tomie spoke out bluntly, putting her glass down on the counter.

Dazai pausef, thinking for a moment. Then he spoke again with a small, bitter smile.

"...I just want you to touch me."

Tomie looks bewildered at his request for a second.

"So... You want another night that goes that way?"

She looked down at her drink, letting out an amused snort.

"Guess I'm in no position to object, huh?" She taunted, trying her best not to throw another snarky remark his way.

The executive glanced down and chuckled humorlessly under his breath.

"Don't pretend like that wasn't a great night for you."

His smirk faded, and he took a sip of his drink before continuing.

"... but I... don't want that right now."

He cleared his throat and set his glass on the counter.

"I want you to try to kill me."

She merely raised a brow.

"Me?"

Disgust and ire swam in her expression, two emotions he rarely saw her display.

"Do it yourself, you must be a professional in that field by now."

She mumbles, her tone laced with irritation.

"Yes, you."

Dazai meets her gaze, his face a mask of eerie calmness.

"It's true, my ability nullifies the power of any other gifted that I touch, but... yours is rather exceptional."

He finished the drink, his fingernail flicking the shot glass.

"See, the remnants of your ability are microscopic. I couldn't nullify it, even if I used my ability on the bloodstain. It'll penetrate deep and infect my bloodstream before the pain even begins! Seems like a fabulous death to me. Just do it, try to kill me."

"Is that an order?" She hissed, her face losing a big portion of the ever-present amusement.

"No, merely a suggestion."

Dazai played with the glass, wearing a bored expression.

"But I know you want to do it. You hate me, don't you? After all, I screwed you over and brought you into this hell that you can't step out of. Don't pretend like you don't want to. I know you want to try. I've seen the disgusted glances you throw at me, I can feel the irk that burns in your heart whenever you talk to me. I've seen how the void in your soul eats away at you. I've seen what you really are. Do it, show me you have the heart to be one of..."

The sound of glass shattering made him pause. It made all the heads of the folks in lupin turn towards them to see what had happened.

Without applying any pressure, the glass shattered in her hand. The broken pieces of glass fell onto her lap, and on the floor, the irritation in her expression grew tenfold.

Dazai's 'No Longer Human' prevented him to have the same fate as the shot-glass in her hand...

What a pity...

That would've been a nice way to die...

"No. If it's not an order, then no. I don't want to be responsible for your pathetic demise."

She spat out bitterly.

"I'm not the type to waste a bullet on something that's already dead."

That was her response to dazai asking her to kill him. He'd apparently forgotten how much the girl could be troublesome sometimes...

Dazai tried to remain unaffected by her words. He grinned slightly and slowly nodded.

"You're right. It doesn't take a genius to see how empty you are."

His demeanour remained composed as he paused, then lifted his eyebrow in a slow, deliberate manner, fixing his gaze on her, the grin lingered.

"... But I also know you don't just want to kill me, you want to devour me. You want to see me suffer... and yet I know you hate yourself more than anything. Am I right?"

Dazai's words were the bare truth, not even one word of his was misplaced or wrong. But tomie wasn't surprised. She was used to his viscous way of slipping into people's minds, his grasp on the human mind was beyond that of what a normal person would be capable of. But sadly, dazai had no way of guessing what goes on in people's hearts.

"Maybe."

She replied curtly, staring at the remains of shattered glass on her skirt.

"You're no good at living dazai, both of us know that. You were born with something rotten inside you and if people get too close, they'll find out. Or maybe..."

Tomie paused, thinking. Then her bloody red lips curved into a self-satisfied smirk.

"There's no rotten thing. It's just emptiness. Like... you weren't meant to live. But, seeing you lose against life itself is always one big source of entertainment for me."

His face was a blend of amusement, listlessness, and a small bit of something indecipherable.

"... So... The precious doll gets a kick off watching me fail?"

He asked. He wanted to sound sardonic, but it didn't quite come out that way. His voice was strained, like a kid that's trying not to cry. The notion was enough to terrify tomie.

"I do see life as a game that I'm losing badly at."

He sighed quietly and leaned back in his chair, letting a faint smirk come to his lips.

"You are right. I wasn't meant to live."

Tomie was observing him through her now hazy vision that alcohol had caused.

With her chin resting on her palm, she just looked at him. No witty commentary, no more jabs, no more banter, nothing.

And dazai could swear something flashed across her expression. Something he wasn't particularly fond of.

Pity

Tomie was pitying him.

She was looking at him like that again. With pity in those glassy eyes.

She was looking at him in the same manner people look at a wounded dog, wondering what the thing had done to deserve such tragedy.

"What can I say? At least your agony amuses me, so it's not completely useless..."

Dazai was silent. Eerily so. The stillness between was jarring, like the shock of a bucket of ice water that was poured over her head. The noise of other regulars was ever-present, but it only served to unnerve her. His eyes were way too big, way too empty for a boy his age.

"... If my agony happens to amuse you, then why don't you tell me things that are sure to sting? Why don't you aim to make me hate you with those words of yours and say things that will destroy me?"

"Am I not... doing that now?"

Tomie pondered out loud with an arched brow. The tense silence was gone. She was thankful.

The girl gave him a subtle look of curiosity that morphed into a lopsided smirk.

"Why, do you think I can do better?"

Dazai gave her a long, unblinking stare. His mouth curled into a sharp smile, his dark brown eye glistening like a lollipop, as he stared right at her.

"Yes. I feel nothing right now. But I know you have the ability to pierce straight through me."

He paused and then spoke again

"... Just do it. Tell me the one thing that's bound to cut deep. Because I know you've been waiting to use it."

Tomie's lips curve into a drunken smile in response to his words.

"I'm not... gonna give you the satisfaction of hating me. I want to keep you on edge, unaware of how much damage I'm actually capable of."

Her smile was uncanny, 'cause it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Or does it? It was... hard to figure out.

Dazai narrows his eyes as he watches her, staring as if he was trying to see past the facade she puts on the surface. He's no stranger to analyzing a person's expression and body language. He does it subconsciously all the time.

It's not fake. It doesn't appear to be deceitful. Maybe he just isn't used to seeing that on her face.

"... Your smile doesn't reach your eyes... which means you're nervous, or you're lying."

He sounded a bit confused.

"...am I right?"

"Oh, are my deceptive abilities lacking, perhaps? Or are you just growing more and more paranoid?"

She calls over the bartender for another drink, while giving him a false innocent expression.

"Unfortunately, it's the second one. That's just how I smile. I thought you might know it by now."

Dazai's eyes darkened, his left eyebrow twitching, and it was just barely noticeable. He was amazing at masking his emotions, or so he thought he was.

Her drunken smile was... weird. It was weird. He couldn't make sense of it. He couldn't stomach it.

Was it that hard to pick up on a seventeen year old girl's inebriated behavioural patterns? Maybe it was because he was fumbling it.

"We both know I'm not paranoid. I'm just good at recognizing lies."

His eye flickered around her expression, looking at her dead eyes, her amused smirk, her face pale as snow and lips red as cherries as blood flow rushed to them. The words “beautiful porcelain” flashed in his mind.

"You..."

He pauses and then finally speaks.

"...Are you really as numb as I am, tomie-chan?"

She smiles as the bartender hands her the drink.

"Maybe."

Tomie smiles once again as she puts the glass to her lips, her lips staining the glass a pretty red.

[ratcandy]

guess who may or may not submitted a guy to @ahatintime-oc-competition . hehe

behold. world's wettest most pathetic owl, delivering mail (very willingly, of course) in YOUR haunted forest today!

[zenithpng]

..

[tommystummy]

ER waiting room truly a level of purgatory

[identity-theft-101]

Anon asks are now banned.

[lonesomedotmp3]

jack wanted to be a good older brother soooo bad 😿😿😿😿 jack...

[cruelsister-moved2]

lord dunsany has his problems (and racism) but its such a skill issue when i read reviews of his work that were clearly left by someone who saw him on like a reddit classic fantasy recommendation list or read about him on lovecraft's wikipedia page "ummm why is it so fragmentary and ephemeral?? wheres the plot and character???" guy who goes to the aquarium and gets mad when there arent any lions

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

I like your artsy photos on only fans. If your not reliant on it for income you should just do what you feel like doing.

Well dang, thank you very much Anon! If you're *currently* on there it means you're one of my 6 paying subscribers, so I appreciate the hell out of you 😘

I am supremely grateful that it's not currently a super-important revenue stream for me lately(because I'd be screwed if it was, considering my average sub numbers.) I mostly use the OF income for art-related expenses, when it's not just being cycled back into new stuff to wear for sets. But it's also still nice to get some validation for my creativity, even if that creativity is in the form of what's considered Mature Content.

[rominasaintofthebud]

i havent kept up with kingdom hearts lore since after finishing 3 a bit after release did we ever find out if demyx was the master of masters or not

[courfee]

so incredibly anxious about everything i cant even check my emails to find out when my next therapy session is

[rnjrsupportsquad]

Hello everybody, it is I, Fndm mother to some, "That Bitch Who Really Hates Ozpin" to most, just wanted to say a few things

- I haven't watched any volume 9 so pls if you have any nostalgia for me, keep ya spoilers to yourself

-I may become more active on here as I have been getting that sweet sweet RWBY itch lately (Red Like Roses II still slaps, surprising no one)

-also my partner (didn't have that last time we spoke) kinda wants to watch RWBY so I may or may not post things about that

-I love you all hope yall are being nice to each other in my absence

-I need you to know this kick all started bc my partner was showing me Bloodbourn weapons and my response was "that's just like RWBY!"

- maybe... and JUST MAYBE..... I'll draw pyrrha again... just for the lols

[thebitchbehindtheslaughter]

My favourite thing about doing independent reading is, after handing in an assignment, imagining my teacher sorting through a pile of graphic novels and romance stories then just seeing “I HATE HENRY WOTTON AND I WANT HIM DEAD” 

[r4t-g0d]

pros of going to uni

ill learn something (hopefully)

make connections and friends

move out from parents

have my own space to create art

could be fun

cons of going to uni

costs money

always had difficulty in educational environments

could end up being a waste of time and money

would eventually have to return to parents

the industries I could work/study in are low paying and not secure

im scared

[thebramblewood]

Guess who's been living rent-free in Helena's subconscious and has finally come out to play?

Previous / Next

Lilith [in a dream]: Helena... Heleeeeena... HELENA!

Oh, Helena. There you are. I've been wondering when you would find me. You've really made a mess of things, haven't you? Poor lost little girl. You have no idea what you're doing.

It's cute how hard you've tried to be good. But you're not good anymore, Helena. What you did tonight proves that. You're a monster, darling, and monsters are unlovable. By humans anyway. It's time to put that delusion to rest.

Let go, Helena. Surrender to the beast within. Guilt is for weaklings, and you're not weak, are you? You're afraid no one will want you once they see what you really are. But I want you. Come to me, Helena. Fear is useless to you now.

This feels right, doesn't it?

You can't outrun fate for much longer, Helena! Time to wake up and smell the roses. You're never getting your old life back!

Helena [in real life]: GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME! GET OFF!

[inhales sharply] Oh, fuck.

[falling-endlessly]

The Finer Things in Death

Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader

Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

Oh dear, where's your smile?

You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.

In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).

At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?

Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.

Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.

Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.

All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?

Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.

Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.

Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.

Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.

Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.

There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.

It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards,  like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.

And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?

Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.

You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.

But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.

Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.

"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.

But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.

Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.

You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.

It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.

Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.

And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?

Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.

And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.

Until one day, when everything went to shit.

****

It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.

You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it. 

Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.

You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.

Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.

The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.

You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.

It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."

You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."

"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.

"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.

His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"

You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.

"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.

Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.

A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.

"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."

You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.

"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.

"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.

You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.

A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.

Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.

And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.

Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"

"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"

Splat.

You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.

"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"

Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.

When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.

You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"

You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.

The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.

Your soulmate.

What the FUCK.

"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."

There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"

"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him.  In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"

As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.

****

You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.

Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—

"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.

You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.

"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.  

You blinked. What the fuck?

"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.

"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."

You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.

He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.

As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."

Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.

But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."

"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.

There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.

"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.

"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.

"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.

"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."

"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"

"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"

He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchanté, ma chère."

You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"

He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."

"What? No, I—"

"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.

You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.

You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion. 

"I'm so fucked."

****

Enchanté, ma chère : Charmed, my dear