#holy hell this snippet is already so good

[mmmichyyy]

inspired by this snippet from the las culturistas podcast to write this silly gallavich ficlet 🥪

it's two in the afternoon, and ian is bored out of his skull.

the office temp job was supposed to be, well, temporary. an easy way to earn some cash, contribute to the squirrel fund, save a couple bucks for a rainy day.

but three months later he's still the office bitch - ordering office supplies, organizing files, killing a couple trees a day because documents can't be printed double-sided for some reason, getting everyone's coffee order, messing up everyone's coffee order (god forbid brenda drinks a latte with foam once in a while) - while spending every waking minute fighting the urge to blow his brains out.

ian checks his watch. two hours, fifty-five minutes, thirty-six seconds until he clocks out. thank god it's fucking friday, at least.

the great thing about being a lowly temp worker is the fact that no one pays him any attention. his cubicle is in a dusty corner with a desk and a worn out swivel chair that endless other temps have sat their ass on before him. as long as he finished his tasks for the day and people are sufficiently caffeinated, he can be on his phone and no one can say shit.

so obviously, he's swiping grindr on company time, because what the hell else is he going to do?

mickey. 23. dick me down hard or fuck off.

hm. the guy only has two pictures - one mirror selfie, blurry, though his slicked-back dark hair and blue eyes standout on milky skin. damn. already ian is into him.

but then. the other mirror pic, taken of his backside, is what makes ian believe in some kind of higher power up in the sky. because holy shit this guy might just have the nicest ass he's ever seen?? round, plump, partially covered in soft grey briefs, and ready to be devoured. hello?? yes??

ian: free tonight? i can dick you down good and hard :)

mickey: how long

ian: however long you want baby

mickey: i meant your dick dumbass

ian: oh

[attached image: my_dick_morning_wood_69.png]

mickey: meet me in 30 mins

ian blinks. thirty minutes? he glances at the time. 2:18pm. what kind of guy wants to meet for a hook-up in broad daylight? is he a sociopath? or a murderer who likes to see their victim clearly as he stabs them multiple times?

whatever. for a quality ass like that, it's a risk he'll have to take.

as usual, no one in the office even glances his way as he hastily grabs his backpack and bolts towards the elevator.

ian: address?

*

"i think you broke me," ian pants, flopping on his back, boneless and completely satiated. "oh my god. how... where did you even learn how to do that?"

mickey shrugs and casually lights a cigarette, as if he didn't just rock ian's entire world. twice. and again. "lots of practice."

"i didn't even know someone could bend that way," ian says in awe, completely fascinated by the magical gremlin with the nimble fingers. "and the thing with your tongue?? are you a trained acrobat or something?"

mickey blows out a line of smoke and offers up the cigarette between his fingers, to which ian eagerly accepts.

"i know what i like, and i'm good at it." mickey lightly pats ian on the cheek. ian responds by melting into a pile of goo. "you weren't so bad yourself, stud."

oh. oh no. ian is done for.

before he can say anything or unhinge his jaw wide open for round three? four? his stomach gurgles out a loud groan. very unsexy, quite possibly the least attractive sound, ever. ian blushes, hoping mickey didn't hear it. but then–

"you wanna get a sandwich?"

ian twists his neck to the side so fast, he nearly gets whiplash.

"what?!"

mickey snatches the nearly finished filter from ian's hand and stubs it out on the side table ashtray. jumps up from the bed and tosses over ian's shirt from the floor. "c'mon, get your ginger ass up. there's a deli down on the corner that makes a mean spicy meatball sub and the parm is to fuckin' die for. been thinking 'bout it all day."

"you wanted to have sex in the afternoon and now you want a sandwich? with me?" ian has had his fair share of hookups, but never has he met someone so sexually deviant yet simultaneously endearing like mickey. is he dreaming right now? "seriously, who are you??"

mickey scoffs. "you think i'm going to take it up the ass after eating a meatball sub? you're a fuckin' idiot. so you wanna go stuff yourself with tomato sauce or not?"

yeah. ian is in love.

[vomitspit2]

ur viltrumite mark snippet makes me sick to my fucking STOMACHHHHHH its so good im gonna b thinking abt it 4 so long ,,, thank u 4 the food its so good im gonna shit my pants

i think viltrumite mark def isnt like main mark, in the sense he isn't outwardly goofy or anything like that, but hes still got those core mark traits [bad at geography, believes in doing the right thing [but it depends on what he has been told the right thing is], keeping the people he loves safe, etc.] and its what draws me in the most ,,,,, like cracking him open like a cadbury egg and slurping up whats on the inside its just so appealing !!!!!! another reason why i liked that viltrumite mark snippet is how he stuttered over what he said to the sculpture like ,,, no 'i love you' no 'i miss you' just . 'you were a good person' and then destruction, the last thing left of his anchor. ARUGHHHHH im gonna beat him to death i love ALL mark graysons

ALSO THANK YOU FOR THAT POST ON SINISTER MARK BEING A CANNIBAL. i read the comics, had a fun time, thirsted over mohawk a lil, and i REMEMBER reading how he said that they all ate each other to survive !!!! all marks have a thing for biting or blood, imo, it just varies, but HE DOESNT FUCKING EAT PEOPLEEEEE i am supremely peeved when people get characters wrong . sighhhhhhh . hes still my fav tho <3

ANYWAY . soooo excited for that viltrumite mark fic u were posting snippets of im already in love w the mc !!!!!!! also i fully suspect that they might get their ass beat by nolan ,,,, or get chewed out ,,,,,,, i feel like nolan, who raised his son on viltrum, definitely is outwardly gruff, but behind closed doors he cares SOOOOO much for mark, but doesn't rlly know how to express it that well

bro you had me STUNNED receiving this in my inbox holy hell …. i’m glad that i could write something that would resonate so deeply; your entire message was a delight to read (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤!!!!!

i LOVE viewing and developing viltrumite mark as a very stoic and expressionless individual — i think a lot of the fandom can agree that’s how he is. as i’m writing this bigger WIP for him, it’s really fun to shed the layers of main!mark off him while still keeping him in some resemblance of his counterpart — all the traits you listed are what i feel the bones/skeletons of mark’s personality are and each variant wears a different skin of it! so real, cracking him off like a cadbury egg. i’m putting that bitch under a microscope 🔬 he is appealing to study!!! orz orz …. also i had him stutter off the phrase bc i wanted him to be catch and choke on using pet instead of person to identify the mc as such! i think recognizing and caring for them as an individual is SO much more meaningful than an ‘ily’ or ‘i miss u’ for viltrumite mark.

it just feels lame to me to characterize sinister mark as the only cannibal in his universe before they were all deserted 🥀 like there is so much to do with him (all the variants actually — they’re free real estate!) but watering down just the guy who survived to be ‘cannibal guy’ 💔 ugh lameeee ,,, i love the idea that they all bite or enjoy blood in various degrees! the solidarity i feel with you on that!! like you get it, you see the vision (≧▽≦)!

bc of this message, i decided to include a few snippets of that WIP — i’m hoping it’ll be done in may, it’s at 8K currently — bc i could not not hand out freebies after receiving such a jaw-dropping message!

i can say that nolan is definitely not going to be a happy camper in this one-shot. i don’t want to spoil much but ahhhh i love the predictions!!!!!!

[farenmaddox]

saw the WIP challenge from @wanderingcas about posting a snippet from something you're working on and getting some motivation for it. I've gotten all in my head about my post-canon SPN fic and completely stalled out on it, so I thought I'd just... try this and see if it helps.

“You’re in heaven?” Sam speaks up, when Dean can’t seem to find any words.

“Oh. Yes. I suppose that would be news. To be fair, Jack having the power to bring me there was news to me.”

Dean is so, so fucking stupid. Obviously Jack came to get Cas, that would still be part of fixing all of the shit from before, not interfering in new stuff. Obviously Cas isn’t just suffering in the Empty for eternity, holy shit. It makes him so relieved that he kind of has to lean on one of the posts for a minute.

“Dean?” Cas asks, tensing up immediately.

“M’good,” he mumbles, waving him off. He just… needs to breathe.

Sam rushes in and pulls Cas into an absolutely crushing hug, saying, “Thanks for coming. Is… is Jack...?”

“He can’t visit without violating the rules. He asked me to say hello on his behalf, though.”

“Oh,” Sam says, deflating a little. “That’s okay. Glad you’re here, anyway. Are you, uh, do you have to go back right away? Does the interference thing include, you know, talking to us?”

“I’m not Jack. I am free to do as I wish,” Cas says.

“Man, it would be nice if you wished to help us get rid of some vamp bodies,” Dean mutters, because the enormity of what just happened is slamming into him like a truck, and he kind of wants to do the rest of this debrief somewhere that isn’t covered in his own blood, maybe after getting those kids home to their deeply traumatized mother.

Cas just looks at him for a long time, but that’s not new. Dean just looks back. He’s so, so tired and there’s work to do, and this is how they operate, right? Do the job until the job’s done, and then they do the celebrating. Cas knows that as well as anybody.

“Fine,” Cas says, short and clipped. And then the bodies are just gone, and so is the blood, from one blink to the next.

Dean chuckles in spite of himself. “You that eager to get to the part where you yell at me, ya big fuckin’ hypocrite?”

Read the rest (approx. 500 more words) under the cut

Cas flinches away from that, actually, and goes striding back out of the barn. “The children are hiding behind a large tree roughly fifteen yards that direction,” he says, waving vaguely. “I assume there wouldn’t be room in the car if you need to transport them, so I’ll meet you in town.”

Sam and Dean stare at each other.

“Jesus,” Dean mutters. “Well, it’s definitely Cas, huh?”

Sam’s face twitches. Dean’s twitches right back.

A few seconds later, they are fully busting-up, clutching-their-guts, howling-like-animals laughing. They collapse into each other’s arms, and yeah, there are a couple of tears thrown in there. Just like, a few. Because hell, Dean had been dying, literally and actually dying, and they had been having a fucking Moment, and it’s not that easy to shake off.

Eventually they get their shit together and find the boys, and they bring them to their mom, who is not great, but is obviously better for having her kids back. There’s a lot of crying going on when Sam and Dean retreat, but their job is done and the part with the tissues and trying to put lives back together doesn’t have anything to do with them.

Cas is waiting by the car when they come back out. Sam immediately rushes in and gives him another hug, the sap, saying, “Sorry, man, I just… it’s really good to see you.”

Cas gives him a huge smile and return hug. “You too, Sam,” he says.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Dean says, already making for the driver’s seat. “I can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Sam says immediately.

“What?”

“Dean, it’s a fourteen-hour drive to get home from here.”

“And?”

“And I’m not having this conversation in the car! And no, I’m not sitting in the world’s most uncomfortable silence for fourteen hours either! We’re taking our happy asses to a motel or something and finishing what we started in the barn, and it wouldn’t kill us to get some sleep, either.”

Dean stutters something that is trying to be a protest, but isn’t. Sam’s just scowling at him and still pitching a bitch-fit.

“And you’re talking to Cas, too, because you obviously need to!”

“Do I get a say in this?” Cas asks with his eyebrows raised.

“No!” Dean and Sam snap at him at the same time.

“The most recent person to do self-sacrificial bullshit in this family loses voting privileges until the next person screws up,” Dean adds. Cas opens his mouth, scowling, and Dean points a finger at him. “Just now in there does not count, because I did not fucking do that on purpose and you know it.”

Cas closes his mouth.

[pistatsia]

My first book is out!

HI HELLO EVERYONE, my debut book is finally out and available for purchase!

The exact way I (and you, hopefully) like it: not actually that bad traumatised young people making terrible decisions and then dealing with the consequences while digging up through their entire mentality and life patterns in parallel. This time in a mystery wrapper. Also there's football, because of course there's football. I didn't write the stupid kids kicking the ball these past two years in order to just cast those skills off.

Of course, this is not everything - I love to think that this book is about the need of overcoming yourself, the right of a human for their own fight, impossibility for a child to harm an adult on an equal level, understanding of responsibility, and, most importantly, acceptance of oneself and one's past even in those things that cannot be undone or fixed, - but let me be funny for once.

Once upon a time, a boy meets a girl… And then one of them kills her father. Thirteen years later they both confess to the murder. Who exactly is the real killer? That's a good question, and you have the unique chance to acquire that sacred knowledge for only 3 euro 83 cents. A deal of a lifetime, if you ask me.

So, come read “Louder Than Lies”. In addition to the little hell of psychological themes highlighted, here we have:

Heterobaiting (should be impossible to write but here we are);

Psychopath character study (I wish I was joking);

Childhood friends trope gone WRONG.

And, of course, the main cast, starring:

The gem of all annoying character archetypes, literal wiki trope thinking he's the hell of originality, born to slay but forced to take antipsychotics, crime suspect in reality but an actor in heart. That actually says the truth but only after blabbering on about his stupid life for two hours (And is also wittingly manipulating the investigation)

His childhood friend, unreliable narrator of her own life, waiting for the aforementioned disgrace of a humankind to ruin the rest of what's left of her already ruined life. A suspect in killing, but POLITE because hypercomensation does wonders to a human being (And is also unwittingly manipulating the investigation)

“Holy hell, call the police! Fuck, wdym I'm the police” main character guy trying to uncover this mess, extraordinare Kai "no my mommy issues absolutely DO NOT interfere with the investigation please trust" Laas

If my reputation as a ficwriter matters to you in any way, I'm betting it all on this book. Seriously. I realise that even for someone whose work you know, it can be uncomfortable to throw money away like that. That's why I'm opening up asks again, and will periodically post book-related stuff on my blog, as well as the fragments from the book - so you'll have a chance to ask, rate, giggle, cry, and decide. In addition, a preview snippet should be available on Amazon - you can also give the idea of reading the book a shot after reading it. I will also upload some extra stories on ao3.

On top of that, since I'm not promoting the book in full mode yet because I want to finish the second part first, in comparison to future readers you have a unique opportunity to build on your theories, solve the few lines remaining before I'll publish. And even rant about it with me, so who knows? Maybe you'll influence the way the plot would be embodied. I'd say it's worth the stakes.

Obviously, buying my book will mean a lot to me (especially if you've also read some of the 270k ao3 words I posted in all this time). Thank you for your trust and for reaching the end this post; I really do hope all those hairs lost from nerves in the process of writing it will tip the scales of the decision in my favour.

GET THE BOOK

Cover artist

[salllzy]

sal's snippets #40 #2

Hades knew that he was making the occupants of the hotel upset and he didn't care and why should he? He had been informed that neither Alastor nor Sarah were at the hotel and they wouldn't be back for some time, which was fine, he was more than happy to wait, it was not his fault that the souls were uncomfortable with him here. Hades was amused as he watched them all scurry and hide behind the Princess as if that would be able to protect them form his wrath. It wouldn't. But he wasn't going to tell them that. He was often accused of being a sadist and that he wouldn't know what morals were if they bit him on the arse. It was untrue. Not that he had bothered to try and correct them in the last few millennia, they didn't listen to him anyway. Demeter and her distance that he released Pershpone was just another bit of proof to the already large pile. Hades was shocked to find that the King of Hell wasn't in attendance, not that he was expecting the other Monarch to stop what he was doing to greet him, running a realm was not an easy thing. This was his first time coming to Hell and while it wasn't what he had expected, he had heard things about Lucifer. Things that he wasn't sure were real. Sudcer of women, destroyer of all that was good and holy. The list went on and on. Heaven had nothing good to say about Lucifer. Hades didn't believe what was being spouted off. He knew what it was like to have lies spread about. So until he actually met Lucifer? He would reserve judgment. The door to the hotel opened and he could see the panicked look on the occupant's faces. "I am telling you my deer, if you are going to cook Sinner meat then you need to have a good wine." Alastor pushed the door open, his arms were filled with bags, Hades felt his breath hitch as he looked at his partner who was following behind him. Her red and black hair was done up in a bun, he wanted to snort, always practical hairstyles. She didn't like letting her hair down. His eyes raked over her form, she always did like to wear practical clothing and the suit she was wearing? He wanted to cut it off her. Piece by piece. Until all was revealed to him. Something must have revealed itself on his face, perhaps it was how hungry he looked as he looked at her, perhaps it was the gleam in his eyes the way that they raked over her body. But the way that the hotel occupants reacted? It made him want to laugh, what did they think they could do to a God? If he was a lesser God, then he would have taken her, consent be damned. But he wasn't and he would kill anyone who ever looked at her wrong. Hades knew that he was no saint and never would be, but there were lines that he would never cross. Regardless of what others said. "Hades? Well, this is a surprise." She put the bags she was carrying on the coffee table and turned around to be able to look at him. He stood from his chair and in a couple of strides, he had made his way to her. "You have left me wanting my doe." He knew that he was the only one who was able to call her that, anyone else would have had their tongue removed by either Alastor or himself. "Hmmm, I'd say sorry but that would be a lie...." Before she had a chance to finish her sentence he had descended on her. His tongue invaded her mouth and he felt her push back, trying to regain some control.

He could hear someone gasp in shock, but he paid them no mind, not when he finally had her in his arms again.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

The James Potter Affair - CHAPTER 3

Insurance Investigator Lily Evans is assigned to recover priceless artefacts stolen in a daring heist from the British Museum. Her chief suspect? Billionaire philanthropist James Potter... It’s a high stakes game of cat and mouse that only one of them can win - and Lily's determined that it's going to be her.

Yep, my Jily Week 2024 Day 6 Inspired By... fic is back! For all you young whippersnappers out there too young to remember it, this fic is the AU of my dreams, based on the film 1999 film The Thomas Crown Affair, starring Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo.

In this chapter, Lily's plan to retrieve the gold goes awry, leading to a confrontation at the Potter Foundation Charity Ball.

Rated M - because it's gonna get smutty at some point! Chapter 4, so consider yourselves warned!

Read on AO3 Latest Chapter // From the Beginning

See below the cut for a T-rated snippet.

Lily leaned back in her seat, tucking her phone between her chin and her shoulder as she examined her nails. “Relax, Remus. It’s totally fine.”

“It is absolutely not ‘totally fine’, Lily!” raged Remus. His voice was so loud that Lily winced, abandoning her critical inspection of her manicure to lift her phone away from her ear. “You waltzed in there and flat out told him he’s a suspect?” 

“I didn’t actually use the word ‘suspect’, no.”

Remus’s tone was icy. “What words did you use?”

Lily shrugged. “I told him I knew he’d stolen the gold, and that I was going to get it back.”

“Bloody hell, Lily!” exploded Remus, all over again. “You realise that this is pretty much the dictionary definition of interfering with the investigation? Moody’s going to absolutely hit the roof.”

“Only if he finds out,” pointed out Lily. “Look, Remus; I know you don’t like that I met him last night andI know you think I gave something away—”

“Damn right I do!”

“—but honestly, this is a good thing. As far as James Potter is concerned, the game is much more fun when he knows that others are playing. The guy likes being on the high wire, and he likes having a worthy adversary.”

“Let me guess, that would be you, right?” 

“Of course,” Lily smirked, despite the fact that he couldn’t see her.

Remus sighed deeply. “At least you didn’t sleep with him.” Purely for her own amusement, Lily let that statement hang in the air for a moment and Remus, predictably, fell right into the trap. “Oh my god, did you sleep with him?”

“No, I didn’t sleep with him.” Lily reassured him, smiling to herself. Remus was almost too easy to wind up. “Honestly!” 

He muttered something about small mercies, and sighed again. “Lily. Please, for the love of all that’s holy - promise me you won’t do anything else so fucking reckless?”

“I promise.” A decisive wave from Lily’s right caught her attention. “Look, Remus. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Just don’t—” he began, but Lily had already hung up on him, now focused solely on Kingsley, who was sitting next to her in the driver's seat of the van.

She raised an eyebrow. “Are we good to go?”

Read on AO3 Latest Chapter // From the Beginning

[whumprecs]

you’ve prob done this but umbrella academy whump/angst recs?? all ur others are so good!

Sorry about the delay! So I am a huge Five fan, so most of them are slanted that way, though I think Diego sneaks in there a few times -but also they're almost all Family Fics.

I'm going to leave off the NSFW/non-con ones I know of, just in case. If you are interested, feel free to send another anon ask (or message if you would prefer) and I'll send links.

i'm walking backward into my own myth by eluvion  Five is in 1963. He’s in 2019. He’s in 2002. Time is falling apart, and Five is in every piece. Five is a disease, and time is coughing up a lung.

Or; Five Hargreeves breaks time.

I kept running (for a soft place to fall) by chromaticality He'd hoped they had given up. Really, he should have known better. The Handler thinks he's the solution to all her problems. Five thinks he'd like to turn the whole place into a slaughterhouse. But with Allison and Luther caught in the crossfire, Five has to cooperate with the Commission's plans until he can figure out a way to get everyone home.

No Time, No Time, Dear Brother O’ Mine by I_Logophile

At Gimbel Brothers department store, Five’s injury is a bit more serious than a simple bullet graze. Not that it matters to him.

That is, until the police show up while he’s trying to leave, and Five finds himself remembering things he’d rather forget. -- There’s something going on with his brother. That much is very clear to Diego.

Why else is Five at a crime scene? Why else is he attacking the people trying to help him? Why else is he going around ranting about time?

There’s something going on with his brother. And Diego is going to find out what.

He just has to get Five some medical attention first.

the walls kept tumbling down by Ingu It started small.

There was a nagging ache in his chest, phantom pain from where the bullets had pierced his flesh, in the overwritten timeline that never will be.

(the one where rewinding time doesn't miraculously resolve mortal gunshot wounds)

Here, Beneath My Lungs by beastboy12

After they get back from the 60's, Five starts investigating a string of suspicious murders while distancing himself from a family he's convinced he's already lost. So, naturally, Klaus and Diego join him. "Holy shit, Five," Diego says, rushing forward. "What the hell happened to you?" Five is off-balanced by the sight of Diego. Shouldn’t he be at the other address? What is he doing here? Klaus appears on the other side of Diego and lets out a laugh that sounds almost frantic. "Oh, thank God you can see him, too.” “Why are you here?” Five says. Diego scoffs. “Yeah, no, the one covered in blood doesn’t get to ask questions.”

Series

Part 1 of Five is an emotionally stunted yogurt lid

The Longest Roads Lead to Home by assaily (twistedskys) Five raised his glass to the rafters. “I’m home,” he said simply. “I’d like to take the time to enjoy that, y’know.”

Diego watched him pour another drink, suddenly understanding him. He’d been gone a long time, lost in a really terrible place that probably never felt like home unless he could somehow forget he was the last soul on Earth. ‘Home’ meant a lot to him.

When Five’s glass was ready again, Diego raised his own, still half-full. “To being home,” he said.

That earned him a smile, a real one that managed to soothe the crease in Five’s brow and make him look so incredibly young in its sincerity, and so incredibly old in its deep gratitude. He raised his glass and clinked it against Diego’s. “To finally being home.”

~-~

Or; Five gets kidnapped and it goes wrong (for the kidnapper).

heart heart head by morimaru

a series of hurt/comfort snippets featuring Five.

Blink by Lady_Origami When Five blinks, sometimes he's back in the world of ash and embers. It's hard to remember how to breathe when that happens. In which Klaus tries to play the role of supportive brother with Ben's help, and Five struggles more than he lets on.

Can you hug me as I go? by maddienole What if the FBI captured Five instead of Vanya?

2x7 canon divergence.

Simple by sharkneto Diego runs into Five at the park. He’s just here to catch a mugger. Why does Five always complicate things?

Lend a Hand by sharkneto If Luther’s being honest, he’s not sure how they’re going to get out of this one. Effectively trapped and powers negated, the Umbrella Academy is in a dire position.

Luther really needs to stop underestimating the lengths Five is willing to go to save his family.

Howling at the Moon by assaily (twistedskys) Five is now a permanent resident of the Hotel Oblivion. The rooms are crap, service is even worse, and he's pretty sure his family left him here. But at least they're safe, right?

A pre-season 3 AU of season 3, Hotel-as-a-prison concept from the comics.

lie awake, sleep awake by morimaru Number Five does not get sick. He refuses to be sick. His body obeys. Right up until it doesn't. (- this one is literally my favorite of all of these rec's, I have lost count how many times I've read it)

and all the kids cried out by morimaru The one where Five is sick, the Handler is clingy and hard to get rid of even after death, and Klaus has a ghost-busting side-gig that is a lot less exciting than it sounds.

Guilt Trip by I_Logophile In typical Five Hargreeves fashion, a drug ring bust with his family turns into a rescue mission, which turns into a complete and utter shitshow. Because, of course, things had to go sideways— No, scratch that. Things didn't just go sideways, things went upside down, backward, and inside out. And then got blown up. Literally.

In the aftermath of the whole fiasco, Five is left reeling, floundering, drowning in guilt.

Because how could he have done that?

How could he have attacked his family?

spoiled by morimaru Number Five is a survivor. He fought his whole life: he fought their father, the apocalypse, the commission, then – the apocalypse, again. Having made that fateful jump back to 2019, he unwillingly left his old body with all of its scars behind. Physical ones, at least. It’s funny, in a way, that the hardest thing for him to fight ends up being food.

The Dangers of Vigilanteing by aceofwhump Diego gets injured during one of his vigilante acts and is forced to go back to the one place he swore he'd never return: The Umbrella Academy

Also, the best way I've found to get to the fics I want in this fandom is to troll through favorites of the authors of my favorite fics. Most fandoms that doesn't seem to work, but this one it does. Happy reading, and again - sorry about the delay!

[bi-bats]

Trick or treat? >:3c

HELLOOO FENRIS!! HAPPY HALLOWEENNNNNN 💖💖💖💖

But oh NO! You've missed trick or treating!!

Luckily for you, this is now a house party, which means I can post an NSFW snippet!!! This picks up right after the end of the massage prompt I snippeted in this ask earlier 😇

~ ✨ ~

Fuck. Jesus fuck. Jesus fucking christ. 

This was a bad idea. This was a really, really bad idea. 

10 minutes ago, Jason did think Tim’s fingers were scrawny. Now, they’re warm and long and lean and making a magical trail up and down his shoulder, and it feels fucking amazing. 

Hell, how long has it been since someone touched him this… tenderly? He’s so used to every touch being a hit, being painful, that he can’t remember the last time someone touched him for longer than a few seconds and was gentle about it. 

And Tim… Jason’s not blind. He’s cute most of the time, and then he gets that one grin that makes him look a little like a mad scientist and Jason’s heart starts ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum-ing like Bugs fucking Bunny. And he’s not an idiot, he’s seen the way Tim blushes around him. 

But he already decided not to do anything about it. And if he teases him a little more and goes out of his way to annoy him so he can see that pretty schoolgirl blush, that’s his business. 

So why the fuck did he agree to this? Something is wrong with him. Colossally. Mentally. He wasn’t going to fuck Tim! He wasn’t going to pick him up by those pretty legs and slam him against his wall and fuck his tongue down his throat, wasn’t going to see just how much of his cock he could get in his mouth—

Another moan rumbles out of his chest on the next sweep of Tim’s thumb across his shoulder. It’s low and deep and jesus fuck he sounds like he’s being fucked slow and good. 

And Tim… doesn’t say anything. Of course, he doesn’t say anything. Jason’s panting like a dog in heat while Tim rubs his magical fingers up and down his back, kneading the muscles, pulling out the tension, and Tim’s probably got that smug little grin on his face, and holy fuck Jason should say thanks that really helped and kick him the fuck out of his apartment so he can spend a solid 10 minutes in the shower with his hand. 

And if he thinks about how Tim’s hands would feel flat on his back, holding him down while he fucks into him, or how those hands would feel digging into his back while Jason fucked into him, that’s also his business. Fantasizing is fine. 

Tim’s hand cups the back of Jason’s neck, and he practically yelps so he doesn’t moan. 

There’s a pause, a moment where Tim could be— fuck, he could be doing anything. He could be laughing, he could be smirking, he could be confused, and Jason should say something, he should say something, fuck, he should explain but he honestly really fucking can’t explain that Tim practically scruffing him really gets him going—

“Are my hands still cold?”

“No, you just—” Jason has to clear his throat because it’s coming out fucking sex drunk, that’s awesome, “caught me off guard,” he finishes. 

Tim hums an acknowledging noise, and then he starts rubbing again. Jason digs the fingers of one of his hands into his leg, hoping his torso hides it from Tim’s line of sight. 

And the whole time Tim rubs his neck, all Jason can think about is what Tim’s fingers would feel like scraping up his scalp, threading through his hair, grabbing a fistful of it, tugging it like a handle, and thank fucking god his shirt is covering his lap. 

[thenotsoholyspirit]

Holding pt 3

(Here for part 1-2)

Matt murdock x reader (angst)

Summary: A little talk with the right man ends up revealing more than the necessary information.

(I pushed myself to give it more action and context, so forgive me if the timeline is not quite accurate for season 3. There's a lot of mention of catholic related topics too if you're not comfortable with that . Either way hope you enjoy it and thanks for all the support ❤️✨️)

◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•

It didn't take much time for the announcement of the release of the Kinpin to become all journals headlines.

As I go down my building heading for work, the first thing I notice are the newspapers laying downstairs the entry.

"FEDERAL COURT HEARS FISK APPEAL"

I stare dumbfounded.

Even if I have promised myself to keep my distance from Matt, I immediately feel the urge to go and find him as I'm more than aware of all the trouble this criminal has brought upon the devil of Hells kitchen and the place itself.

I look at my phone. It's almost six in the morning. I still have time before heading down the veterinary.

I'm unsure where to go first as he would surely no longer be at the Law Firm. Even my instinct to give Foggy a call is quickly refrained as I remember what he told me about our last talk.

What have you gotten yourself into this time, Matty.

Suddenly, I hear the usual resounding ring from the church's bells down the drive. From both corners of the sidewalk, I see small groups of people enter the place, the usual morning crowd.

How didn't I think about it before

Before I can lose more time, I run down the street, calling the closest taxi.

....

"As we say this, we bless ourselves three times by making a small cross on our-"

Clinton Church wouldn't exactly be the first place most people would go to if they were in the search of a devil dressed like a vigilante, yet as soon as I timidly open its door, the familiar incense smell and gothic columns reassure me that I've come to the right place. 

As I come in, I quickly go sit on one of the empty seats from the back. Father Lantom has already started the mass. 

I can not let myself but let a small smile leave my lips. It's been such a long time since I've last been here. 

While vaguely hearing the Father talk, memories of long ago lived moments fill through my mind. Small snippets of my old life.

“May almighty God bless you, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”  

I raise my head up when I hear the priest pronounce his final lines. This was it. 

Thankfully, not many people want to talk to him this morning, as most leave or simply stay in the right corner where the prayer candles softly illuminate the walls. I get lost for a moment, staring at the wavy shadows.

“Aren't they pretty... Some may take them as nothing else than silly good omens, but I'd rather see them as a representation of hope. People always need hope...."

I turn around, noticing Father Fantom looking at me curiously. I'm quite surprised he has noticed me. He invites me to sit down.

"I wasn't expecting to see you this morning miss (y/n), ” he chuckles slightly, "A bit late to mass although"

"I... I don't want to take too much of your time sir, but I need to know if you've well-," I try to smile, feeling quite vulnerable all out of the sudden "Seen or heard anything about Matt"

His face suddenly turns more serious, yet he barely looks surprised.

Is it this obvious

"That may depend on your own answer, miss.. I haven't seen you in quite a long time"

I nod, understanding his peak in curiosity.

"I know...." I look down the floor. "It's not like him and me are exactly on talking terms neither"

"(Y/n)... Matthew came here late last night searching for some answers , " he stares at the statue of Jesus placed beside the altar. "These are difficult times for him.. He needs some guidance..."

Father Lantom sighs softly as he shakes his head

"And some hope too....and I'm not just necessarily talking about his extracurricular activities...."

"I understand that." I nod sternly, knowing that something was different from his last visit. "But I'm not sure I'm in the best position to be of any help, neither ."

Im not sure why Im being so open with him, but I guess the serious yet caring tone of Father Lantom invites me to be more honest. I continue talking

"I'm not sure if I'm strong enough"

He gently gives me a tap on the shoulder.

"I'm not requesting you to forgive him (y/n)... that's an answer only your heart can give..." He tries to keep a reassuring tone, "I just worry of what he may push himself to do"

Suddenly, the silence of the church feels heavier. I rethink of the news. It just clicks in my head

"Don't tell me.... Don't tell me he wants to take care of Fisk on his own "

"He didn't mention-.."

But I interrumpt him, understanding now Matt's logic. His anger, his guilt.

I get it just.. just why

"No.. He can't .. he can not do that.... He.."

"This city is already dangerous as it is (y/n)." Father Lantom looks at me with worry. He seems to have understood my own intentions, too. "It's not the time to play even more precarious games right now"

But I can't. I need to stop him before it's too late.

I look at my phone again. It's already eight.

Guess I better call off sick

"I gotta go"

I immediately jump on my feet. I give a last look to Father Lantom and the candles.

If everything ends up all right, I may give a chance to one of those.

"(y/n)!"

I hear his call, but I decide to ignore him as I step outside. I cannot wait.

There was no time to lose.

[theambracer88]

911 Rewatch (Sorta; My ramblings (WIP))

🚫Possible Spoilers IF You're Planning On Watching And Haven't Yet!🚫

It has been a hot minute since I've seen the show. I've watched an episode here and there ( not in order) and figured since season 9 is a go, I'd rewatch the series. Figured I'd post some thoughts and if you guys and what not as I watch the series. Just realized I can do this on Tumblr after I've already watched the first two episodes.

I forgot how much of a himboy sex addict Buck was. He's one of my favorite characters now (as I've stated, I've seen bits and pieces (been spoiled, not that I mind spoilers) so I know he gets better. All the characters do? Maybe, but God he's so cringey (at least the first episode. Not sure about him yet through the rest, but he seems to at least be trying? Maybe? At least he didn't try to get with Abby (yet). I do like that he does wear his emotions on his sleeves (feeling bad for not being able to save someone) but I feel like that'll get him in trouble someday 🤔

I'm not 100% sure as I've only seen clips and little snippets of Buck as a bi man, but this Tommy that broke up with Abby. Is this the same Tommy as Buck's Tommy? 🤔 I'm pretty sure I saw something on TikTok where he's talking about it, but I'm not 99% sure.

I feel bad for Chimney. He just wants to do more. I hope they let him do more in the future

I forgot about the May storyline. T_T I'm so glad she's doing better, but damn, this is heartbreaking to watch. I hope Athena doesn't blame herself (which I know she probably will)

Ok, just want to reiterate (this storyline with May. With Athena and Michael being questioned as good parents, cps ><)

Also, can I just say? I love Chim, but he's lying about who he is to impress a girl. Thank God for Maddie (in the future)

"Do you think I'd be a good father?" Jee Yun (sp) and their future baby (which only reason I know she's pregnant again is because of tiktok) would agree that you are.

Chim not knowing Bobby's family is dead? wait, was that a recent thing that happened? If so, Oh boy >< but either way, that's on Bobby, but Chim was out of line ><

Holy shit, I forgot the rebar thing happened so early on >< fucking hell, Chim. ><

Tommy being mentioned again. Is he already gay at this point and they don't add that in until the storyline with Buck?

I forgot Chimney was in a coma. -_- honestly? I feel like this should've gotten a big storyline like Buck's (when he was struck by lightning -_-

Ok, Athena. Rescue the Leonard Hoffstadter (sp) lookalike as well as the rest of the plane from the big bad airport security. You go girl

Bobby T_T I know he's going through it (even if it doesn't tell us why til second season, but ><)

I know Abby has her issues (leaving Buck behind with the hopes that she'd return) but she's a good woman who wants to make sure the message of the dying got to the right people

Ok, I wasn't expecting the Bobby breakdown this early. I'm not ok -_- (I may or may not be tipsy at this point -_- Also, Is this when we find out what happened to his family? I thought it wasn't til the second season?

OMG, where did Abby's mom go??? ><

Ok, first off, Buck finally meeting Abby? Cute (even if it doesn't last)

Second, Bobby Nash, you did not murder your own freaking family. That was an accident. Accidents happen and (I'm not going to get into it because of logistics but ><)

Ok, I can see why he blames himself, but people under the influence >< I just ... no words

Ok, Bobby. Introduce us to you

Also, why did I like Abby & Buck at season 1? They're most likely the same age difference than my mom and I (my mom did have me at a younger age, so 15 years which still >< I'm like @_@

Not me forgetting about the psycho women in season 1 valentine episode and not Buck choking -_- His whump (am I weird that I like seeing Buck go through it?) started here

Question. I haven't really payed attention, but does Chimney still have that scar from the rebar? Just curious because I've got a scar (granted, I've had 6 open heart surgeries before the age of 7) that while faded hasn't disappeared, so I guess his scar could have faded depending how long it's been between season one and season 8?

Honestly? Buck being good at delivering babies makes so much more sense. Thank you Bobby.

I forgot Hen wasn't always faithful to her wife. I hated this story line, but I also don't like how it disappeared -_-

[miniscrew-anon]

Like and Subscribe? Yeah, Dark thinks he will

(Is this the worst title I’ve ever made? Yes.) Twark snippet 🖤💚

——-

The lowrider with the constantly changing plates was back. Dark wasn’t sure when the car had reappeared in its usual spot but he made his move the moment he’d noticed it. He’d already wasted enough time and he was not willing to wait another minute. So at eight in the morning on a Sunday, he pounded on his neighbors door, expression already appropriately mirthful.

“Wakey wakey!” He sung at the door, “I need to talk to you! So get up and come to the door, asshole!”

After nearly a full minute of knocking like an overeager policeman the click of a lock stopped Dark. With his hand still in the air the door swung inward, revealing a figure cloaked in the darkness of his own apartment.

“Mmmnnn?”

Shadows' frame leaned heavily on his own door, hair a ruffled mess of a birdnest. He was half dressed in pajamas, as if he’d just given up halfway and thrown himself into bed with his jeans and socks still on. His eyes, unprotected by his usual shades, are shut against the bright fluorescents of the hallway. It’s a very inefficient and potentially dangerous way to answer a door.

But convenient if you’re Dark. “Oh good! You’re half asleep. This makes it much easier!”

Dark slipped into the apartment through the gap, patting Shadow on the back lightly as he passed. “Thanks for inviting me in, buddy. I just gotta borrow something. I’ll pay you back later, ‘kay?”

Shadow shuts the door and the apartment goes dark. He makes some unintelligible noises and shuffles back to his bedroom, face planting back into his bedsheets. He goes still, breathing evening out in sleep.

Dark smiles. He’ll take that as permission.

Dark gleefully swipes the wallet from the kitchen counter and makes his escape, waving over his shoulder at his unconscious friend. “Thanks a million, pal!”

The door shuts and Dark retreats to his own apartment, smiling at all his new credit cards.

—---

Dark scrolled through the camera roll. He traced the curves and contours of the nude body on his screen, biting his lip in appreciation. The way the photos were taken invoked an almost bashful aura, the mans face always obscured or turned away. Inexperienced with showing off his impressive body, the man still managed to capture a surprising amount of masculinity and power in the way he flexed and stretched.

Also, holy shit - that ass. Premium membership was so, so fucking worth it.

Dark grinned as he scrolled onto a picture that showed off Twi’s impressive backside. Yup, that’s going on his home screen.

Someone pounded on his door.

“Hey asshole! I know you're in there! Gimme back my wallet!”

“Well, look who’s up.” Dark crows. He saves the picture and snatches up the leather wallet from his bedside. He opens his front door only to be met by an angry punch to his shoulder. If Shadow was any bigger than an average pre-pubescent teen it might have even hurt.

Dark grins down at his friend. “Is that any way to greet a friend?”

Shadow snatches his wallet from Dark’s pants, quick as a whip. “You better not have spent all my money, dickhead.”

“Oh no,” Dark cries mundanely, rolling his eyes. “Goddess forbid I max out Kingsley Max’s credit card. I didn’t know you changed your name.”

Shadow pushes past the bigger man. “It’s the principle of things.”

“You don’t have any principles.”

“Shut up.” Shadow said. He tucked his wallet back into his pocket after checking the contents to make sure everything was in there. “Why the hell did you even need my card? You have your own. Did you lose it all in your liver or something?”

“Nah. I just needed to be untraceable.” Dark shrugs. He walks to the kitchen and takes out a beer. He offers on to Shadow, who takes his peace offering.

Shadow tilts his head so his shades dip low enough to make eye contact with Dark. “You doing something shady?”

“Maybe.”

“Good. I’d hate to lose money on something lame.”

—-

Dark wants to {CENSORED} Twilight so bad it makes him look stupid.

[giggly-squiggily]

I’m gonna make it worse better

—

Yuta tries to soothe himself, but every voice in his ear just sounds like Geto’s purring threats. His hands come up to cover his ears as he sobs, begging for his friends to “make it stop,” and screaming that he can “still hear him.”

It’s at this point when Gojo would step in, worried that he might have to get Shoko to come put Yuta to sleep or something. “Hey, kiddo. Who can you hear? Whose voice is it?”

“GETO!” He chokes. “HE’S IN MY HEAD! GET HIM OUT! GET HIM OUT!!” The boy is yelling himself hoarse at this point. Upperclassmen are walking past the open door with scowls, their frowns turning into looks of concern as they see the poor kid. Panda simply turns and growls at them to make them stop rubbernecking.

Gojo doesn’t really know what to do besides hug him and hope he calms, but Maki already has that under wraps… should he ask to step in? Should he call Shoko? Maybe he should, the kid isn’t calming down anytime-

“Maki…” he suddenly whimpers hoarsely, clutching onto said girl’s jacket with one hand and his sore throat with another. “Get him out… please, make it stop…”

“I’ll go get Toge…” Panda murmurs before exiting slowly.

“I can’t make him go away, Yuta,” Maki soothes, gently pulling his hands away from his ears. “But I’ll hold onto you until he gets tired of being in your head.” The statement made zero sense to her, and yet to Yuta, it was like a saving grace…

He finally gains the strength to hug her back, resting his head on her shoulder. Maki’s taken aback just a bit, but her grip tightens and she places her glasses on Yuta’s nightstand, murmuring to Gojo to “keep watch for curses” for her. She rubs soothing circles on Yuta’s back with her hand as the boy cries and cries.

—

Yeaaaaah I’m gonna write this

The angst is just *chef's kiss* utterly scrumptious! And THE TITLE DUCKY- I love it so much holy jmajfrkjaejkrejk

All jokes and Cala Maria aside: MY HEART????? The snippet alone left me tearing up- it's so good and well written and Maki holding him tighter and Panda growling at people and Gojo being at a loss for the first time in years over what to do and just- oh my God this is PERFECTION! Maki taking off her glasses and telling Gojo to watch over them- the trust and vulnerability in that gesture alone made my heart squeeze- DUCKY YOU ARE AMAZING WITH ANGST!!! I love this so much and cannot wait to read the full version (That is to say take your time and write when you feel up to it! Sorry for my late as hell reply) I just- GOD THIS IS SO GOOD!!! Thank you for sharing!

[soulmatess]

Broo please update your LAWRUSSO fic!! I have exams and it's the ONE thing keeping me from crying about my exams. No rush btw I just NEED MORE SOULMATE LAWRUSSO CONTENT. I love when Johnny doesn’t want to cooperate and neither does Daniel BUT somehow they always end up together and I LOVE the counseling part AND how much they need each other to be happy/energized but don't want to need each other. I also love how Lucille forces Daniel to try and be nice to Johnny. Omgg I LOVE THE WHOLE TROPEE😭😭😭😭

BROOO <3 thank you so much for the support!!! I have the majority of the chapter written so hopefully I can get it up soon but I've also been busy with the impending doom of my mid terms <//3

Anyway! Here's a little snippet of the chapter that probably makes no sense out of context, but I giggled while writing it, so hopefully it keeps you going for now!

"And as for you two—” his glare can burn holes through brick. “LaRusso. Lawrence. Another week of detention. Congratulations, that makes two! I hope your schedules are crystal clear.” Daniel chokes. “You’re punishing us too?” “You were arguing, bickering, and escalating an already unstable situation!" He cries, slamming a hand on the desk so hard a stapler jumps five beats into the air. “I don’t care if you didn’t start the fire, Daniel, if you throw gas on it, you’re part of the explosion! I highly doubt a cop would excuse an arsonist just because they didn't mean to do it. ” “Good thing I'm not an—!” Daniel starts, but Johnny immediately cuts in with a scoff. “Fuckin' hell, relax, princess. Nobody died.” Daniel turns on him, eyebrows knotted together as his mouth curls down in a sneer. “Oh, now you decide to speak! You know you’re the reason this keeps happening, right?” Daniel snaps. He raises his hands in mock surrender, still smug in his newfound consciousness. "Didn't make you choose truth." And holy shit, Daniel wants to lunge at the guy. He wants to spring off from the ground and collide with Johnny, hands wrung around his pigeon neck and foreheads colliding together in a deranged macabre performance. Fuck him, fuck detention, fuck soulmates and fuck Johnny fucking Lawrence! "That wasn't even the cause of—" "Oh, blah blah, do you love your voice that much—" "You're such a hypocrite! Y' just have to mouth off every chance you get—” "Yeah because I admit my voice is great—" "Who lied to you—!" Casey cackles from her spot beside them. “He’s not wrong. You do run your mouth like it’s a full-time job, Lawrence," she starts before tacking on a curt, "and your voice isn't all that.” “Shut up, Casey,” Johnny and Daniel say in near-unison, which only makes her laugh harder. Daniel barely has time to blink before the principal slams a ruler against the edge of his desk, the sharp crack hitting once, twice, thrice before successfully cutting through the chaos like a gunshot. "Silence!" He throws the ruler onto the desk, hand rubbing down his face. “What did I just say? And yet you question your punishment!” The room, for the most part, jolts into stillness aside from Abigail’s seething and Johnny’s smug, cool kid persona leaning back against the wall, arms behind his head like they’re at some fucking beach cabana and not about to be executed in the school office. The principal’s eyes narrow, deep lines cutting across his forehead as he glares at them all like they’re a pack of feral dogs that just pissed all over his new Persian rug. “I have had it with this soap opera. We are done here.” His gaze lands hard on Daniel and Johnny, eyes sharp as glass. “Congratulations, you two have upgraded to a strong two weeks of detention. Effective immediately. Truly, and I mean truly, well done.”

[phoenixwritesspn]

Elastic Heart, Chapter 27 - Devil's Trap

Hey everybody! Here's a snippet from the finale chapter of my fic!:

Miles away from town and the nearest neighbors sat an old, beat-up two-story house, isolated from prying eyes—and, well… everyone. Inside was an equally secluded, surly, and standoffish man. At least, that's how he was until you got to know him.

Hell, he was still like that. Just a little less so.

Before our contact had been severed, we'd grown close, though he'd never admit it, not even if you put a gun to his head. But he didn't have to. One look at him when he thought no one was watching told you everything.

A sense of calm washed over me as the Impala pulled onto the dirt path lined with junk cars scattered around the property. It still looked the same—cluttered with car parts and tires. This place was the closest thing to a physical home I'd had in years.

Rumsfeld, a large Rottweiler, lay on top of a truck, chained to a nearby post. He popped his head up as we got out of the car, throat rumbling with a warning growl telling us not to come any closer.

Part of me hoped he would remember us, but I suppose it was too much to ask with all the years that passed.

I smiled at him, keeping my voice light and airy. "Hey, Buddy."

The dog stared calculatingly for a moment before hopping off the car. I held a hand out for him to sniff, and he pressed his cold nose to my fingers. His tail started to wag cautiously, then grew in excitement, his whole body wiggling with it.

"Guess he remembers you," Dean remarked with a smile.

"I guess so." I patted Rumsfeld's head and followed the boys up the creaky steps to the even creakier front porch, where Dean knocked on the door and shifted nervously.

On the other side, multiple locks clicked open, and the door swung wide. The burly man stood there, his posture relaxing with relief. Behind his beard, his lips almost curled into a smile. "Hey, kids. Glad you got here safe." Bobby moved so we could enter. "Come on, get inside."

It seemed as though not a day had passed since we were here last. God, the house even smelled the same: musty books, a burning fire, and cheap whiskey. The floorboard by the door still had that scuff from the night I snuck out for a date, returned drunk, heels in hand, and fell on my ass, scratching up the wood.

I don't know how Bobby handled us, but he did. Always made us feel at home, too. Our time spent here was one of the few moments we got to be exactly what we were—kids.

"Thanks for this," I said.

"Anytime," Bobby replied, ensuring we were all inside before he stopped to take Sam in. "Been a long time since I've seen you."

Sam's lips tilted in a shy smile. "I guess it has."

Bobby wasn't an overly emotional man, but I could've sworn I saw his eyes wet with tears before he cleared his throat and instructed us to follow him into the library. Like always, stacks of books filled the room's corners, practically reaching the ceiling. A fire crackled in the fireplace, flickering orange and yellow across the rough hardwood floor and old red couch that the boys and I used to pile on for movie nights.

Despite all the chaos and uncertainty outside, the good memories allowed my lungs to expand fully for the first time in hours.

Bobby picked up two silver flasks from the corner of his desk and handed one to me. "Here you go."

I sloshed the liquid around. "Is this holy water?"

"That one is," Bobby pointed to the one I held before unscrewing the top on his, "this is whiskey." He drank, then passed it along to Dean, who took a long, grateful swig.

Dean wiped a few drops from his lips with the back of his hand and offered me the flask. "Want some?"

It couldn't hurt. My nerves were already shot.

I accepted, taking a much shorter sip than either of the men had. The familiar burn hit my tongue and lashed the back of my throat, only soothed by the warmth that followed.

"To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come," Dean admitted.

"Nonsense," Bobby denied with a wave. "Your Daddy needs help."

"Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. Cocked the shotgun and everything."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people." Bobby's tone was gruff, but his eyes didn't leave Dean's. Under all that sarcasm, the worry was plain as day.

"Yeah." Dean cracked a grin. "I guess he does."

"None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back."

Surveying the room again, a glaring difference caught my eye. Etched into the ceiling was a large, intricately engraved circle with a five-point star and a scorpion in the center. "What is that?" I asked.

"That?" Bobby pointed to the symbol as if it were just another day on the job. And it was, for him, I guess. "Key of Solomon."

Dean followed my gaze and went slack-jawed. "What does it do?"

Bobby pulled a thick book from the desk, its spine cracking with age, and flipped it open with practiced fingers. "There," he said, handing it over.

The page was yellowed, the ink faded in places, but the symbol was unmistakable—drawn in gold, gleaming faintly against the paper. Below it, a block of dense text described it as a protective circle, designed to halt demonic movement and trap the entity inside. A line no demon could cross once the symbol was complete.

"I've never seen anything like this," Sam said, clutching the book between his fingers. "And these protective circles, they really work?"

"Hell, yeah," Bobby said with a nod. "You get a demon in—they're trapped. Powerless. It's like a Satanic roach motel."

Dean chuckled appreciatively. "Man knows his stuff."

I twisted the cap back onto the flask and put it down. "Seems too easy."

"Drawing it is the easy part." Bobby lazily folded his arms.

"What's the hard part?"

"Getting 'em in."

"Guess it's not easy as leaving a piece of cheese in a rat trap, huh?" Dean quipped.

"Not quite." Bobby grimaced and rested against the desk. What little amusement had been in his voice was gone now. I braced myself for the worst. "And I'll tell you something else, too. This is some serious crap you kids stepped in."

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked, steeling himself for the answer. "How's that?"

"Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops. This year, I hear of twenty-seven so far."

A sharp breath shot from my lungs. Sam's shoulders tensed like he'd just taken a punch to the gut. Dean's jaw ticked as he tried to hold his composure under impossible odds.

"More and more demons are walking among us—a lot more," Bobby finished with a certainty that only he could carry.

"Well, that's comforting," I mumbled, shifting weight to my other foot.

Sam leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp but tired. "Do you know why?"

"No, but I know it's something big." Bobby wiped his hands on his jeans, almost like he was trying to rake away his words before he said them. "The storm's coming, and you kids, your Daddy—you are smack in the middle of it."

[soapkaars]

How hells worldbuilding works in your hazbin hotel au? Do you add your own ideas, did you change some things?

The imps, hellhounds or the bird goetia are here too?

Please yap, im kinda addicted 👀

It’s a bit of everything to be honest! I’m actually very boring though - because I didn’t change that much! In my au everything that happened in the show also happened in my au, and what I write and draw is kind of extrapolating what happens after. Sir Pentious is dead, but the main cast already know he got into heaven because Emily made sure to tell Charlie that, and Lucifer resurrected Adam to hold as a hostage in case heaven tries to nuke hell, but that isn’t working entirely to plan because Adam had a self destruct implanted deep is his soul without knowing that Lucifer had to save him from and it clearly isn’t stopping heaven from rearming…

Everything else is filling in the gaps and is playing around with the idea of living under the tension of an extremely powerful enemy who is set to attack at any moment. So the hotel is business as usual, but now there’s actual interest brewing up around it because holy shit a sinner got redeemed?? And it’s protected by the Big Boss of Hell Himself?? In the other rings however, the imps and the hellhounds have seen the broadcast of Lucifer beating up Adam but they don’t think it’s any of their business. A potential plotline I’d love to explore is Lucifer having to convince the rings that heaven’s out to get them too, that the pardon was only ever meant as a temporary thing, and that basically heaven really, really is set on making the apocalypse happen.

So yes, everyone, including the Helluva Boss characters, are there, and I might draw them if I feel I can imagine a good or funny plotline for them! What I like to add to the Hellaverse myself is mostly my love for thrillers and film noir, with occasionally some snippets of Dante’s inferno and Tragedy of Man and a little Paradise Lost thrown into it for good measure!

As for worldbuilding: Basically my premise is that heaven is a paradise for those who agree with it and an oppressive regime for those who do not. It’s similar to some of the big colonial regimes of our time and I’ve often toyed with the idea of making Hell a very convenient way for heaven to get rid of troublemakers, people with legitimate criticisms… a kind of divine prison-industrial complex where Lucifer is kind of political prisoner. He’s the spirit of rebellion, after all!

Sorry, this is a bit of a rambling answer, but I do love yapping and thinking out loud about this!!

[trashno0dle]

promoting my scream fic here again because new chapter <3

summary:

Billy Loomis was sixteen- going on seventeen years old when his parents divorced and his mother abandoned him, leaving him mostly alone in a world that couldn't understand him, and feeling broken beyond repair. Sidney Prescott was sixteen years old when she stood before the corpse of her mother's killer. Blood dripping down her front, a red glistening knife clasped firmly in one hand and a plastic mask in the other, with a smile on her lips.

(includes billy/stu, sid/tatum (murder gfs) as well as good ol gale/dewey oh and. if the summary didn't give it away its a role swap!)

snippet from the newest chapter (5) below

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Well shit. That’s just perfect. He came to a stop across from the school, it was as busy as ever, typical for such an ordinary school day. But once again reporters lined the street, attacking students with questions and demands, hungry for their thoughts and insight. Billy frowned, his hands twitched restlessly at his sides. He took another look behind him, then with a frustrated sigh, he marched on forward past the vultures, hoping they hadn’t gotten a good enough look at his face to know who he was.

Thankfully, they didn’t. But his fellow students did, they eyed him curiously, some looked around expectantly, as if waiting for the killer to jump out and finish him off. They weren’t the only ones. He still felt unsettled. If his hunch was right and the killer did in fact go to his school then they could be anywhere, hiding in plain sight. Waiting to seize the perfect opportunity to–

“Holy shit!” Billy swung his head round to see Tatum rushing towards him, Sid walked at her side, following closely. “We heard the news, are you alright?”

Billy relaxed a little, but the tension still didn't ease from his shoulders. He tried for a smile but it crumpled on his face just as quickly. “Yeah, I'm alright.”

“Are you hurt?” Sid asked, glancing over him with a concerned look, her expression twisted into a delicate frown.

He shook his head, “no, just a scratch.”

“You look like shit.” Tatum commented, “no offense.”

Billy chuckled dryly. “Didn’t exactly sleep easy after that. Would you?”

Tatum nodded as if to say ‘fair point’ before she spoke up again. “Well relax, you're at school now, it's not like anyone will get you here.”

Right. Billy thought dryly. His discomfort must've been noticeable as both girls seemingly regarded him with pity. He liked that even less.

“Serial killers are smart by definition.” Sid murmured, “they minimize their risk, plan and pre-calculate everything. Showing up here would be the most lame-brain move he could make.”

She almost seemed too relaxed about it before Billy remembered she'd been through hell with this already, it probably desensitized her to such a thing. That, and the frantic look hidden behind her eyes. Something Billy could only catch after knowing her so closely, he'd always been able to read people well, but Sid most of all.