#vermin&vile

[sand-scourge]

Song For You

A selfship comic featuring Wrapbot owned by @macattackz (thank you for letting me make this with your character! I appreciate it!)

[macattackz]

Vermin’s Smile Ventures

god save me

[heliinx]

The Thirteen Claw -- Barony of the Damned

[thewarmestplacetohide]

[fountainpenguin]

I like how as much as Snaptrap despises the Chameleon, he just kinda...

“You know what buddy you’re too pure for this why don’t you sit this one out.”

[lafemmemacabre]

I think part of the problem with even supposed "progressives" in the US who want to consider themselves anti-imperialist but still defend their soldiers, is that they seem to be under the impression that all their troops do in the global south is land there, kill the local combatants, maybe sometimes killing some civilians By Accident, get traumatized, then go back home.

That's not what American soldiers do in our parts of the world.

Again, Richard Ramírez, the infamous Nightstalker serial killer, was inspired by a relative of his who was a Vietnam veteran to commit his horrendous acts of violence, and honestly from what I recall, the individual murders he committed paled in comparison to the crimes against humanity his Vietnam vet role model told him about and showed him pictures of.

American soldiers come to our countries to rape, torture, maim, and commit genocide. They rape children. They rape mothers in front of their children and husbands, then kill them all after toying with those civilians like a cat playing with its prey. They do that to entire rural towns.

They take pictures with the agonizing prisoners they're torturing. Winking, thumbs up, and cackling.

They annihilate entire bloodlines.

They arm fascist factions within our countries, train them, and leave them in power, so that those factions can pick up with the work of terror they started once they're gone back to the US.

They trample children with their tanks. Intentionally. As a joke between them.

They dangle their American dollars, which are much heavier than any of our devalued currencies, on the faces of hungry orphans to solicit them for child sex work. Children who were orphaned by the comrades of these very same predators to begin with.

They intentionally destroy our lands, making sure nothing else will grow again, or at least nothing healthy and thriving will grow again.

Yes, even if when they come back home to the US these vets are "nice" and polite. Even if they would never do that to a fellow (white) American. That's because they see other (white) Americans as actual human beings, while those of us in the global south are at best NPCs, and at worst detestable vermin to be exterminated in whichever way is most entertaining to the genocider in question.

And honestly? You guys' own thought process isn't too different from theirs.

If you're happy to brush off what's done to our peoples, all in the name of maybe getting a minimum wage raise or whatever the fuck it is that Biden is falsely promising AGAIN; then you, too, see us as either NPCs or vile vermin. You're just too lazy to actually come and maim us like your troops do.

[nostalgicamerica]

There are quite a number of things I appreciate about this man (and a few I don't), but the one thing I will forever grateful to him for is that he flipped on the lights and showed all of America the cockroaches that are running this country. He turned the flashlight on the vermin and showed us all just how vile and disgusting our political class truly is.

[twinsimming]

Pest Control by Twinsimming 🐞

Sims with dirty homes now run the risk of roaches spawning around their lot, similar to The Sims 2.

This is a script mod that can be placed in your Packages folder. It was built and tested on 1.69 but should work fine on 1.67.

Roaches

Once a day the number of dirty objects on your sim's home lot will be counted, and if the Dirty Threshold is met or exceeded, roaches have a chance of spawning.

There are three thresholds: Dirty, Filthy, and Vile. The dirtier the lot is, the more likely roaches are to spawn and in greater numbers.

Dirty Threshold = 5 dirty objects, 10% spawn chance (2 to 4 roach spawners)

Filthy Threshold = 10 dirty objects, 20% spawn chance (4 to 6 roach spawners)

Vile Threshold = 15 dirty objects, 30% spawn chance (6 to 8 roach spawners)

All sims in the active household will get the new Vermin custom moodlet that lasts 12 hours and subtracts -15, -20, or -25 points from your sim's mood depending on the threshold the lot meets.

Roaches spawning also carries a 10% chance of a sim getting sick (like TS2).

New Moodlet

Vermin: Given when roaches spawn on a sim’s home lot, lasts 12 hours, -15. -20, or -25 mood (inspired by TS2 memory)

Tuning

All of the tunable values can be found on the mod download page under the header “Tuning”.

Conflicts & Known Issues

Depending on the terrain paint, roaches may be harder to see. To find any roach spawners you may have missed:

Enter build/buy mode.

Enable buydebug cheat.

Look for any white boxes on your lot. Those are the roach spawners.

Enter live mode.

Stomp on the roaches.

Success!

This is a new script mod so there shouldn’t be any conflicts.

Credits

EA/Maxis for The Sims 2 and The Sims 3, Visual Studio 2019, ILSpy, s3pe, Notepad++, Gimp, and Script Mod Template Creator.

Thank You

Thank you to @monocodoll for helping with a scripting issue!

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi 💙

Download @ ModTheSims

[hurthermore]

»»------► 𝙰 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 (18+) - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎

Pairing: 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary: 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗. 𝚂𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘.

Word Count: 𝟻.𝟽𝚔

Warnings: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.

𝙰𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝

A/N: 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 ��𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚊𝚑. 𝙰 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜; 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚍𝚔 𝙸'𝚖 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛?? 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈 𝙰𝙽𝚈𝚆𝙰𝚈

𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗, 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚎!

You contemplated Alastor’s question as you laid in your bed.

“Why are you wedded to a man you hate?”

His words seemed to swirl like a vortex within the constraints of your mind throughout the entirety of the night as your husband’s disgusting touch held tight against your skin. It plagued your brain; seeping the sensation of guilt throughout your veins as you kept replaying the events that happened after he had asked that ridiculous question.

“Don’t spout nonsense.” You had spat at him; a natural reflex to conceal the truth. “I love my husband; and I don’t need you falsifying information.” A lie that departed right through your teeth. But in that moment, you couldn’t stand how easily he had uncovered how you truly felt about your vile husband within two meetings. “It’s best if we part here.”

Bringing a hand to your forehead as you heavily regretted leaving him standing on the street as you continued shopping alone, you felt like vermin. It ached your heart how you barely remembered how distraught his tightened smile seemed; almost missing how he attempted to grab your wrist as you walked away.

Why did you do that?

How he had known about your distaste towards your husband, you didn’t know. Were you just that easy to read, or was he just really perceptive? Again, you weren’t sure, but one thing you did know was that you felt remorseful with how you reacted once you returned home. Yet regardless of your regrets, you couldn’t understand why it hurt your caged heart so much that his smile seemed to emit anxiety and dread as you had a go at him for just asking a question. 

It was an invasive question, and a small part of yourself wanted to hate him for figuring it out, but the majority of your heart felt vile for even contemplating hating him.

You didn’t know how you could do that to him. How you could switch up on him in an instance and speak to him like dirt. He didn’t mean anything by asking that question, right?

He was the first person who had tried his best to bond with you since you were forced to wed your husband; in the short time you had known him, he had treated you so sweetly with a delicacy that had your heart racing, and you just had to treat him like that.

You could only compare yourself to your husband as you reflected on how quickly you had gone off on Alastor.

Why did you have to speak like that toward him?

You could only replay the same conversation in your mind as you got ready; for what, you couldn’t remember, Vincent had only demanded that you do as such. Looking at your vanity, you couldn’t seem to find the motivation to cover the now healing blemishes on your skin. You yearned to cry; a frequent occurrence for you. You wanted to see Alastor again, to apologise to him for your stupid tantrum over such a harmless question.

Why were you the way you were?

Ever since you had met Alastor; apart from the first sighting where he essentially stared you down on the street, you had wanted him to be your friend. Your first friend in a long time. You wanted to hear his charming voice again; to see his stupidly weird attractive face again.

Sinking your nails into your skin, you sighed. You needed to rid Alastor from your mind. You wouldn’t see him again until the broadcast, and until then, there was no need in fretting over the event; nor replay it like a mantra within the walls of your skull. 

Sitting up from your vanity, instead of using your usual make-up to cover your blemished skin, you opted for a long sleeved ruffled dress that flowed low against your ankles to cover the damage in its stead. Placing some small heels on your feet, you carefully ambled down the stairs, only to slow your pace as you watched your husband reading the local newspaper whilst he sat in the parlour room; your grip on the bannister tightened in frustration as he looked your way.

“It’s about time you were ready; you could’ve made me late.” You flinched at his oppressive tone. “Fucking women.” The frown on your face only deepened. It was his fault you would be late to wherever he was taking you; he was the one who refused to let you leave the bed until thirty minutes ago. Mumbling an apology, he only walked past you as he made his way towards his car, almost slamming the entryway in your face as you paced behind him quickly.

Attempting to ignore his aggressive tone, you sat in the passenger seat before your husband began to drive you towards god knows where. It was rare for Vincent to take you out; and similarly to whenever guests came over, he only took you places when he knew it would benefit him or his business. 

Like you were his accessory.

“You’d better start smiling, doll. Or else.” Vincent brought you away from your thoughts as you nodded silently. Plastering on a fake smile to appease him, he only rolled his eyes before continuing driving.

As you let your deceptive smile tilt down, you wondered if Alastor would treat you differently if he was your husband.

“You know, doll.” You flinched as your husband spoke up again, causing you to completely forget about your strange thought about Alastor before you could even question yourself about it. “You still haven’t given me a child yet.” Your entire body stiffened as those words left his mouth.

Not this again; anything but this.

“But that’s fine. We’ll just keep trying again; tonight, even.” The top of your teeth bit into your bottom lip as the sensation of the salted water behind your eyes threatened to cascade down your face due to his dreaded promise. Not again. You had only just started to heal up.

Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Looking over at him, your whole face seemed to blink along with your eyes, almost appearing uncanny as all you could focus on was the steering wheel; your mind contemplating forcing the car to crash into something, anything. If you could only just touch the steering wheel, you could end both of your lives right now.

Then you wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Vincent’s harsh voice brought you out of dissociation again as you saw your hand attempting to reach out toward the steering wheel. Quickly, you placed your hand on top of his, caressing his repulsive knuckles as you tried to cover up whatever just happened to you.

Your intrusive thoughts of murdering him were becoming worse. 

“I… I’m still sore, Vincent. Can’t we wait..?” His eyes glanced at you as he took in your begging expression, your fingers rubbing against his hand as you pleaded non verbally for him to just not touch you for one night.

Just one night without his touch. That’s all you wanted.

Turning his focus back onto the road, he only scoffed. “You can take it, doll. Just like you always do.” Instantly, you removed your hand away from him and laid it into your lap. Of course he wouldn’t give the mercy of one night without his grubby hands all over you. 

You were stupid to even of hoped for such a thing.

You didn’t want this; you never did. And him only stating what he was going to do to you embedded an all too familiar fear into you that would hover around like a parasite on your back until he finally finished what was to transpire later. 

You dreaded it; dreaded the thoughts of him assaulting you again. It made you want to rip out your hair, tear the skin off your face, break every bone in your body.

Maybe then he would stop touching you.

Blinking rapidly as your husband's fingers began snapping in front of your face as if you were some type of dog, you turned your direction toward him with a blank expression. “We're here, get it together, doll.” He ordered before he left the car.

Glaring at him, you opened your own car door, stepping out as you took in the sight of the building you were parked in front of.

Oh no.

You stared at the corrugated steeled words that spelt out ‘Radio Station’ at the top of the large building, the same one that held a radio mast that towered over every other establishment around it.

Was today Friday?

You don’t remember it being Friday.

Why didn’t you remember today was Friday?

Trembling as you tried to accept that you’d be facing Alastor today, you panicked. You hadn’t thought of what to say to him; nor the best way to apologise. You didn’t even know if he still wanted you here to begin with.

He probably wouldn’t.

Not after how you stormed off on him.

He probably thought you were pathetic.

Yelping as your husband grabbed your arm, pulling you alongside him as he walked toward the two large entry doors, he whispered in your ear. “If you keep acting like theres nothing in that fucking skull of yours, then I’m going to make tonight that much harder for you.”

Slowly nodding your head, you began to walk with him instead of against him, forcing yourself to be on alert as you walked through the doors. You couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. Would Alastor act differently around you? Did he hate you? Would he tell your husband that you had spent time with him yesterday? 

You hoped all the answers to those questions would be no.

Watching as Vincent spoke to the formally dressed woman who sat at the reception desk, you felt a shock of energy piercing through you; sending a pleasant and familiar sensation down your spine. Tearing your gaze to the left, you saw the man who you couldn’t stop thinking about. Standing deep within the well lit corridor, he smiled at you with a grin that you would’ve found absolutely terrifying if you hadn’t acquainted yourself with him already. 

Alastor. 

As you gazed at him, you couldn’t prevent your expression from softening as he stared at you with that stupid smile you knew only he could pull off. All the anxiety you had built up, all the thoughts of what Vincent was going to do to your body later only vanished as Alastor slowly approached you; holding a bouquet that weren’t filled with just one type of flower, but an assortment of red carnations, red gardenias, and red roses.

You didn’t like how your heart ached as you contemplated who those flowers were for.

Yet as quick as the thought of him gifting another person some flowers pierced your heart, it mended almost instantaneously as he stood before you, pointing the bouquet directly toward you, causing you to fluster up; looking almost dumbstruck as you held eye contact with him. “For you, darling.”

Before you could even begin to wonder why on earth he was gifting you flowers after what had transpired yesterday, your husband's grating voice perked up, forcing your demeanour to flatten like a punctured tire. “There you are, Alastor!” Vincent essentially pushed you aside as he positioned himself in front of the radio host.

You watched as Alastor’s smile almost snarled. “Vincent. Lovely to see you, ol’ chap, but it's quite ill-mannered to interrupt, isn’t it?” Your body could only tense as you heard how furious Alastor sounded as he spoke through almost clenched teeth. It sent sensations through you that were the complete opposite to how Vincent’s agitated tone affected you. Whilst your husband’s aggravated tone always instilled fear into you, the tone that Alastor currently showcased made you feel protected and sheltered. 

It sent a sense of warmth to places you didn’t want to acknowledge.

Feeling a sense of joy and vindication as Vincent’s expression tugged at the muscles beneath his hypodermis, you wanted to laugh; to relish in how easy it was for Alastor to make him act like a recreant. Even if you knew Vincent only cowered for the betterment of his business, it still felt so good watching him be the one forced into a position of obedience and submission.

As Vincent apologised with a knitted brow, Alastor turned to face you again, his expression penitent as he offered you the bouquet of flowers once more. You could feel your husband’s enraged aura flow through the air as your hands reached for the bouquet, brushing the skin of your fingertips against Alastor’s rough yet silked hands. You couldn’t help how your heart raced, how flushed you felt just from the gesture; yet at the same time, it doused you in guilt. 

Why was he offering you flowers with his eyes filled with remorse?

Wasn’t it you who was to be the guilty one?

But you didn’t ask; wouldn’t ask. Not until Vincent left you alone with him. “They’re beautiful; thank you, Alastor.” You smiled, genuinely. Giving him a look of adoration without realising it. 

“Well, I did pick them whilst thinking of you, my darling!” He laughed to himself, making you shift awkwardly as you felt your husband’s looming presence beside you.

You could sense he was fuming from this interaction.

“Lovely that you got my wife some flowers, Alastor.” Vincent spoke with a false jest; you could hear the subtle venom laced within his voice.

“Well someone has to!” As Alastor responded, you could swear that his canine teeth were one of the sharpest sets you’ve seen throughout your lifetime. “That house of yours needs some plantation in it to liven it up!”

Vincent only chuckled with an undertone of frustration before he looked toward you. “Yes, well… I think it best we put them in our room, right, doll?”

No. Is what you wanted to say; you didn’t want anything that Alastor had gifted you to enter that disgusting room where most of your husband’s abuse took place. Didn’t want to sully it’s purity with vile things. But you nodded reluctantly; agreeing with your husband's coercive demands.

“Well!” Alastor almost shouted, startling you from your thoughts. “How about we practise this promotion before we go live?” Vincent agreed with smugness as you trailed behind the two men in front of you. Zoning out from Vincent leading the conversation with the taller male, you awed at the well made framed posters that hung on the walls throughout the building; all of them unique, starring each individual radio host who had ever performed for the station you currently walked within. 

You noticed how quite a few of them featured Alastor.

How had you never heard of him before? Sure, from the past year you knew it was due to Vincent not permitting you any media output to reach your eyes or ears; he very rarely allowed you to read the bloody newspaper. The only thing you had read from the local news was about the ongoing murders that had taken place by an unknown killer. But before Vincent, how had you never heard of Alastor? If the posters were anything to go by, he seemed rather popular.

You wondered what would've happened if you had met Alastor before Vincent was forced upon you.

Shaking your head slightly, you gazed up as Alastor stopped in front of a door that had unlit words above it that spelt out ‘On Air” before he opened it, holding it for you and your husband to enter. As you followed behind Vincent, Alastor closed the door behind you before resting his large hand against the small of your back. Away from your husband's gaze. You could only jolt with a strange sense of delight as you looked up at him.

Why was he always so touchy with you? Surely he knew how provocative it was, placing his hands all over you; a married woman.

Why did that make you feel heated?

Why was he touching you and gifting you flowers when you had treated him so poorly the day before?

He was acting as if it never happened.

Looking back at the flowers in your hands, you wanted to hide your face in them as Alastor gazed at you with tenderness wisped within his eyes. But as soon as his hand touched you, it left along with the moment as your husband turned around. You could only keep your flustered expression hidden from Vincent behind a blank expression and a tight smile.

As you subtly fanned yourself off as Alastor began explaining to Vincent what he was to do during the live broadcast, you took in the environment of the broadcasting studio. You could tell it was expensive just by the type of wood that held all the metalised equipment filled with buttons and dials alone. And as you stood there, you couldn’t stop twiddling your fingers into the bouquet whilst you contemplated what you were to do; there wasn’t anywhere else to sit but the two one seaters positioned next to the microphones, and they were being currently occupied by your husband and Alastor.

You didn’t know how much time had passed as you stood there, staring at different parts of the room, but it was long enough for you to take note of every slight damage within the ceiling. And as Vincent walked past you, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you watched him leave the room. 

Where was he going?

Should you follow him?

As if sensing your unease, Alastor spoke up. “He’s just going to the restroom darling. You can relax.” Looking back at the smiling handsome man who sat at the table filled with broadcasting equipment, he leaned his head against his hand before speaking again. “I apologise for leaving you standing there holding my gift, darling. Your husband wouldn’t shut up.” Offering him a soft chuckle, you made your way over to him as he proposed you set the flowers down on the table. Looking at him as you placed the bouquet down, Alastor grasped your hand within his before he pulled you closer toward him.

Indecent. Was your initial thought as Alastor guided you to stand between his legs whilst caressing your palm with his thumb. As he looked up at you from his sedentary position, your heart began to ache again. You still needed to apologise; perhaps this was the best moment for it.

“I’m sorry, darling.” You stilled as you heard Alastor’s voice be the one to say the words you wished to say to him. 

“Don’t be ridiculous; I should be the one apologising.” You spoke softly, hiding the confusion that doused you. It didn’t make sense to you that Alastor had apologised to you. He had nothing to be sorry for; you were the one who acted pathetically over a simple question.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my darling. I overstepped.” Why did it feel as though you were making up with a lover after a spat? You hardly knew this man; yet you allowed him to caress you and speak to you in such ways that would make any outsider believe you were having an affair with him.

“And I may have overreacted.” You whispered before you sat down in the empty seat behind you; Alastor’s hand still embracing yours.

“It wouldn’t have bothered me if you had screamed at me darling; just don’t ever walk away from me like that again.” His voice was dripped in adoration throughout his sentence until his last few words; they turned sour, almost possessive, angry in a way - yet somehow it made you want to obey him; to be owned by him.

Why did you oddly like the idea of Alastor owning you?

The heart within your rib cage began to thump far too fast for your liking as the thought entered your mind; your lips began to part as you tried to pant away the heat that ensued.

You watched as Alastor leaned toward you. “You still haven’t answered my question, darling. Not truthfully at least.”

“What question?” You tilted your head to the side.

“Why are you wedded to a man you hate?”

Your mouth gaped as your eyes downcast. “Because I have no choice.” You told him as truthfully as you could, stating how it was an arranged marriage; leaving out the fact that Vincent had out right bought you. And then you had lied, falsifying how it was easier to just stay with your husband, to be content with how life had turned out for you as divorce wasn’t something you could legally file for, being a woman in the 1920s and all. Mumbling your words as you asked him who would want you after you had been defiled by your husband if you did eventually leave him.

You said anything to prevent having to admit you only stayed due to the fear of your husband beating you into your own funeral.

Watching Alastor’s smile strain, you swore he said something underneath his breath, but before you could ask him to repeat himself, you heard the door rattle open; forcing you to snatch your hands away from the radio host before you got caught leaning into his touch more than you should have.

As Vincent walked in, he glared at you; looking at you as if you had fucked up. Instantly, you stood up from the chair a bit too frantically for your liking, missing how confused Alastor looked from how quickly you had left his side.

You felt overwhelmed in that moment; Alastor making your heart pump theatrically, Vincent almost catching you holding another man's hand, and having him be oppressively angry with you for sitting next to Alastor in the first place; it was too much.

“You sure are jumpy aren’t you darling?” Alastor spoke up. You felt yourself tense up as you pleaded for Alastor to shut up in your head. 

What if he accidently spilled something that made Vincent even more angry?

Was Alastor just luring you into a sense of safety before he crumbled it down just as your husband frequently did to you?

Why was Vincent’s mouth moving?

Why couldn’t you hear anything?

Why could you only hear static ringing all around you?

“I was only showing this little darling how the dials work, chum! No need to be so invasive.” The ringing halted as you heard those words leave Alastor’s mouth.

Of course he would cover for you.

You were scum for doubting him in the first place, weren’t you?

Looking back to Alastor, your mind fell silent as you saw his glared expression toward your husband switch to one of peace and content as his eyes fell back onto you.

Flinching as Vincent moved around you to sit in the now empty chair, you watched Alastor’s smile twitch in disgust.

Maybe you should have asked Alastor why he hated your husband too.

Gripping your own wrist, you began scratching at the skin above your ulna due to how awkward the air felt. “When do you go live?” You asked almost solemnly. 

Alastor took in your expression before he picked a gold plated pocket watch out from the chest pocket on his waistcoat. “In about ten minutes darling.”

You didn’t know if you could handle being in this room for any longer.

“Doll, why don’t you go and wait in the reception area until we’re done; I dread you having to stand there during it.” Bullshit. You knew that vile thing would relish in watching you awkwardly stand there like some mannequin. But you did want to leave; so with a nod, you quickly left the room, making sure to give Alastor a wave before you disappeared from his and your husbands view.

Leaning against the door, you finally breathed; heaved, almost. You wanted to sleep. The desire to rest was becoming more prominent as the day only seemed to continue to grow more and more overwhelming for you.

Walking towards the reception area, you slowly slumped down onto the hard sofa as you closed your eyes. You felt a huge flickering of conflicting emotions and thoughts surrounding you. You were so tired, exhausted from your husband’s abuse; you always had been, but now it was as if all of his abuse was building up like a bad rash inside of you, and it was breaking you in more ways than even Vincent was intending. 

At the same time, you felt so happy; happy that Alastor had gone out of his way to get you flowers, to apologise to you when you were almost positive he was putting unnecessary blame on himself, how he had held your hand as he listened to you lying about why you wouldn’t leave Vincent. 

You didn’t deserve his friendship, did you?

“Are you okay?” You heard a feminine voice ask. Opening your eyes, you made eye contact with the blonde receptionist from earlier as she stood over you with a worried expression.

“Oh! Uhm,” You quickly sat up straight, feeling embarrassed. She probably thought you were sleeping. “I apologise, am I allowed to sit here?” 

“Of course! Don’t worry; you came to meet Alastor, correct? How come you’re not with him now?" She asked as she sat down beside you. Your heart melted at the kind undertone that spoke throughout her words; words that were fast, rambling almost, like she had so much she wanted to say. 

“He’s broadcasting with my husband, I thought it best to leave them be during.” You explained with a smile.

Her face contorted into confusion as she tilted her head with a bounce. “Huh, if anything, I would’ve thought you were his guest.” You only raised an eyebrow at her as you asked her why she thought as much. “I mean, look at those flowers he gave you! I never thought Alastor would be sweet on someone!” She laughed casually as your heart thumped from the suggestion that Alastor harboured feelings for you. Upturning your eyebrows, you brushed it off as you explained that he only gave them to you due to wanting to apologise, but it sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself more than the woman beside you.

It was impossible for Alastor to feel that way towards you; you were married after all. And who would be idiotic enough to fall for a taken woman? 

Especially one who was as broken as you.

“You don’t know much about the meaning behind flowers, do you?” She smiled as if she knew something you didn’t. Shaking your head, she only smiled further at you; something told you she wanted to expand on her speech, but instead, she jumped as if she had forgotten something. “Oh!” You flinched ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, I forgot to ask; do you want a drink?”

Thinking about it, you did feel parched.

Nodding your head as you told her what drink you’d like, she walked off, promising to be back shortly.

Placing your hands over your heart, you attempted to slow the rapid beating of your heart. It had been so long since you had conversed like that with another woman; it was nice, refreshing, easy. You didn’t even know this woman's name, but you liked her. She seemed sweet; the type of gossip, but sweet.

As you turned your head to look through the window, you wondered why she believed that Alastor felt something for you. The meaning of flowers? You weren’t aware flowers had meanings to them. 

Perhaps you could visit one of those florist shops when Vincent next allowed you to go out.

Hearing clicking of heels coming toward you, you turned your head back around as you gracefully took the drink the receptionist gave you; her face beaming with a smile before she sat back beside you.

Not that you didn’t enjoy her company, but didn’t she need to work?

As the both of you sat there in silence, sipping your drinks, you felt at peace. It was similar to the peace you experienced when you were by Alastors side; yet not quite as protective. “You know,” The woman beside you began, interrupting your thoughts. “Alastor’s show has never had promotional content on it before.” She spoke almost absent-mindedly before she took another sip of her beverage. 

You looked toward her, not really understanding why she was telling you this. “Oh?”

She nudged you with a grin. “Yeah, we have a specific host that puts out all of our promotional content during the mornings and late afternoons; Alastor has no need to provide advertisement.”

That was the last thing you expected to hear.

If what she said was true, then why was Alastor so adamant on doing business with your husband? And why was he attempting to form a friendship with you in the process?

Before you could ask her to explain a bit more, you both jumped as you heard a door shut rather loudly; yet not quite a slam. Hearing the faded out voice of your husband coming closer and closer, you deflated. This would be the end of your conversation.

Turning around to say goodbye to the woman before your husband came over, you had to double take as she wasn’t there; she had moved to the receptionist desk. Narrowing your eyes with a raised eyebrow as she sat there, her face expressed sympathy as she gave you a small wave.

“Come on, doll, we’re leaving.” Vincent huffed as he made his way toward the entry doors.

You were leaving already?

You stood up before Alastor turned around the corner, carrying the flowers you had left in the broadcasting room. Smiling as you saw him, you padded your way towards him with a hop in your step. Approaching him, his smile widened, causing his eyes to crease upward along with it.

“I’d hate for you to leave without my gift, darling” He handed the bouquet back to you as he spoke. Looking into his eyes as his fingers brushed against yours yet again, the receptionist's words swarmed your mind. 

Was Alastor sweet on you?

Before you could respond, Vincent called you out by your name; a warning sign not to disobey him.

Thanking him, you turned around, walking toward your husband with your gifted flowers in hand as Alastor closely walked beside you, brushing your arms against one another as you left the building. Yet a frown etched into your face as your husband's car entered your view.

The memory of Vincent’s earlier promise formed in your mind.

“I’d like to come over on Monday for lunch.” Alastor had stated out loud whilst looking down at you. But even if you wished to, Vincent would’ve heard his request, and therefore would not permit it.

“I’m busy on Monday, Alastor. Another day, perhaps.” Your husband spoke out in a grumble.

So he had thought Alastor was asking him. 

Directing your attention onto Alastor, he rolled his eyes with a smile as he mocked your husband silently; you reciprocated his jabs with your own silent chuckle.

Gesturing for him to lean down to your height as your husband’s back turned toward the two of you whilst he unlocked the car, you placed a hand on his shoulder as he obeyed your silent request. Leaning on the tips of your toes, you whispered in his ear.

“I’ll see you Monday, Alastor.”

Quickly skipping away toward your side of the car so you didn’t get caught by your husband, you began waving at Alastor with your free hand before you entered the vehicle. But you weren’t expecting to see Alastor standing there with his hand covering the lower half of his face as his other hand waved back at you.

Why was Alastor covering his face?

Before you could think any further and inevitably piss your husband off, you sat in your seat; only smiling at Alastor until he left your vision as your husband began driving.

It was an oddly silent drive. One that had you trembling slightly.

Sometimes the silence was worse.

As the roads became more familiar, all you could think about was what Vincent was going to do once you got home. As you glanced at the flowers in your lap, you had hoped it would take your mind off your current thoughts; but it was futile.

Suddenly, you gasped as the flowers were ripped from your hands. Shocked, you turned toward Vincent, who slammed the car door as he stormed inside your home.

You hadn’t even realised you had arrived home.

Fumbling to open the car door, you ran after your husband. “Give them back!” You screamed at Vincent; something you had never accomplished before; but it filled you with a rage you had never felt before as Vincent stole your gift.

A gift from Alastor.

“Excuse me?” Vincent said in a challenging tone. His face looked blown out with rage as he dared you to speak up to him again.

“Give them back.” It wasn’t as harsh as the first time you said it, but your tone stayed stern.

Without thinking you reached for the flowers, grasping onto them as you tried to take them from your husband’s dirty filthy hands.

He didn’t deserve to touch Alastor’s flowers.

Falling back as Vincent pushed you away, he threw them on the floor before stomping all over them; killing every single stem that bloomed an assortment of red petals. 

“You’re never seeing that prick again.” Vincent ordered once he had finished desecrating Alastors gift. “I was stupid to believe you when you told me you didn’t want to fuck him; it’s all over your whoreish face that you want him.”

Even as he spoke, all you could look at; all you could think of was the beautiful flowers that had been crushed before you.

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

As Vincent grabbed your wrist with a bone crushing grip, spitting words in your face about how he was going to hurt you, you surprised him and even yourself as you slapped him across the face with a harshness you hadn’t known you harnessed.

Your breath began to heave as he looked at you with an expression that was more vile and disturbing than anything you had witnessed before.

Before you could apologise to him, you blacked out.

The last thing you saw was Vincent hitting you back.

← 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 ✦ 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 →

✦ 𝙰𝙾𝟹 ✦

@cherry-cola-100 @hana-en @undrgroundtheme @roxxie-wolf @mutifandomkid @gentle-aesthetic-bby @itsmskeisha @k1y0yo @d34dl0ve @reikamasama @taygirl24 @alastorssimp @ieatcocoa @tremendoushearttaco @spottypug @bishiglomper @marcysbear @zazamagicaldonut @little-slyvixen @wendigonamecaller

[tabibitto]

Pretty Little Liar | Black Butler

m.list

CW: little angst, heavy smut, corruption kink, breeding kink

A/N: yk this was originally drafted for a comfort/fluff and somehow my horny ass made it into my first official smut on my page. Eat well bitches.

Demons need no rest.

Those of which are often spoken of with disdain, cannot feel. They cannot taste what humans think delicious, they have no need for the mundane things such pathetically weak animals cannot survive without.

Their contract's contents vary. Simple things as an assassination to spending an entire human lifetime with someone. Fulfilling their every need, all whilst hiding their satanic facade behind a mask:

A loving husband, a doting father, a caring butler. Each mask carried a new name, a new aesthetic and set of rules to play.

Tonight, he continued his ongoing three years as Sebastian Michaelis, butler to a small and truly incapable child if it wasn't for him. Though, many things in this world, if truly credited. Would belong to his dark and burning world of fire and blood. Demons did not exist to rule over their inferior prey, they were not to mingle with histories unless directly ordered to by their contracts

Nothing, he did was without the rules of his contract. But Sebastian was never one to ignore loopholes. After all, such rules could be boring or too restricting for his liking.

Truly, honest to heaven and hell alike, if any of his kind were to see what he used loopholes and spare time for they would spit in his face and send him back to damnation. An utter laughingstock, a disgrace to the arts of soul cultivation.

His demonic nature, weakened and tweaked by that of whom he was supposed to consume after a goal was met.

Human.

Such a pretty one at that, inside and out. A rare thing to find among specimens. Especially, with a soul begging, calling for him to take as his own.

Sebastian never made double contracts, he didn't like the hassle of pleasing two people at once....in this scenario of course ;)

And yet for you, he would do anything.

For as long as Lord Phantomhive lived, he was free to do and be with you as he pleased. With you the mask fell and revealed his true, playful and cunning self. You never seemed to mind

In fact you relished in it, abused and used it to your pleasure and he would wallow in you over and over. Letting your fragile being wrap and caress his own. In return for protection, sex, love, lies, death.

Whatever you wished for. That would only be fair. A thing he never gave and only demanded to receive. Selfish

And with you he still was, selfish. Sebastian wanted you all to himself. A delicious slice of cake, waiting to be cut into.

With the way you allowed him to split you open, and use you as he pleased after doing what you wished of him.

How beautiful..how foolish to stain your soul with such a vile vermin as himself. Fuck, he loved all of it

Corrupting your pretty head until all you could utter was his given name, relishing in his touch, verbally needing his body, his kisses, his spit, his cum to corrupt you whole until your body became one with his. Until Satan himself planted the seed of damnation deep inside, and Sebastian would spend eternity using, loving and lying to you.

Whatever pretty little lie it would be, you two would exchange empty words, read out a script of new lives in the human world over and over, cultivating a human, ripping into it alongside him..

"S-Sebastian! Seb...ngh.. Sebastian slow down p-please~" You pleaded, tears streaming down your face as you clawed at the hand clutching your throat. Gasping for air yet wanting him to take it from you. your body curling inwards into his hips. Wanting to runaway yet you couldn't... wouldn't move until he filled your little cunt to the brim with his corruption.

You knew what he was. Who he was. Yet that didn't stop you from wanting him in fact you needed his attention more. You demanded more of him, cruelly, lovingly Moreso then that master of his. Yet he didn't seem agitated like with every other living being in his presence

Sebastian almost seemed to enjoy your demands, he found your control over him amusing and he couldn't wait to see what you wanted next. His smug and knowing smiles a complete mockery of you, he knew full well you never were in charge once you were in his chambers

His frustration on everyone else, his need for his master's soul, his desire for your pussy wrapped around his cock, your mouth's snug fit on him. All of it taken out on your delicate body.

His frustration could never be with you. No his pretty princess was too perfect of a specimen for Sebastian to get mad at that's why he was your plaything during the day. Sebastian Michaelis was yours

But at night. During the witching hour you were reduced to a simple fuck toy, a cuddle partner, a friend, a lover, whatever he wanted you for you gave to him. You were his.

Sebastian let go of your reddening throat, and just as he heard you choke out a breath of life, he shoved your face into the pillows, pounding his hips down with all his weight into your quivering hole, muffling your screams into his bed, unused for years and only now did it begin to warm with your body lying next to his after every session.

"My..what a whore ive got all to myself...look at you~"

Sebastian shifted over in the bed and turned you around so you were facing the mirror on his wall. Roughly pulling your head back, wrapping a free arm around your waist as he made you watch yourself be fucked like the toy he loved you for

"You know im a demon, you know once my contract is over ill be done with you just as ill be done with him. My summoning was his doing, and my disappearance will all be his as well. And yet you so eagerly await me here every night for payment of all i do for you."

You heard every word loud and clear, yet as a response you could only babble about how his tip pushing into your g-spot with every thrust felt so good. Truly pathetic

"You like this don't you hmm? Tell me pretty, you like when i come and fuck this hole every night? Fill that pussy of yours full."

He spat dirty words into your ear, and his rough and hard thrusts increased in speed until he had to occupy your mouth with his to muffle your screams as he fucked you stupid.

"More! More please more more more moreee....fuck!" Squealing before growing silent, you trembled as you came, pulsating around him. Knees tingling into numbness.

After a moment of being on cloud nine, you were thrown down onto the bed, Sebastian pulled out and you whimpered at the loss.

Suddenly feeling your leg being yanked open in missionary, Sebastian pulled you to him, pushing your legs up into your chest as he aligned himself with you once more.

Taking away every ounce of rest you might have, every thought became his and nothing in this world was needed more then his cock rutting into you like the animal he was.

Use him, fuck him, love him.

Until lies become truth, love becomes pain, grief into joy, Sebastian be your plaything and you his.

And then he will cease from your life, mere dust in the wind.

A faint and insignificant memory of what could have been.

[sand-scourge]

raz and his bots :) @macattackz

[macattackz]

One year ago today I decided to put these six together in a story. Happy Vermin Versary! I updated their refs and did some mini redesigns! (big and small!)

[irlpretear]

100 more trans/genderqueer musicians

a pt.2 to my last post

Bands

Problem Patterns (riot grrl) (x)

Et On Tuera Tous Les Affreux (hardcore punk) (x)

Speedy Ortiz (indie rock) (x)

Foxtails (punk rock) (x)

Come To Ruin (deathrock) (x)

Arabella (hardcore punk) (x)

Flummox (metal) (x)

Dream Sequence (emo, post-hardcore) (x)

Escuela Grind (grindcore, metal) (x)

Buggin (hardcore punk) (x)

The Aquadolls (indie rock) (x)

Vile Creature (black metal) (x)

Caustic Soda (punk) (x)

Go! Child (indie pop) (x)

Tribe 8 (punk rock) (x)

SeeYouSpaceCowboy (hardcore punk) (x)

NARC (hardcore punk, sludge violence) (x)

BRAT (hardcore punk) (x)

[ctrl] (power violence) (x)

Strawberry Milk Cult (punk rock) (x)

.gif from god (metal) (x)

CyberGirlfriend (indie rock) (x)

Vermin Vendetta (metal) (x)

Pretty Frankenstein (glam goth) (x)

Doll Chaser (punk) (x)

RENT STRIKE (folk punk) (x)

Tears for the Dying (goth rock) (x)

Himbo (math rock) (x)

Out of Sight (hardcore punk) (x)

Morta (metal) (x)

Girlpool (indie rock) (x)

Life of Agony (metal) (x)

Mashrou' Leila (indie rock) (x)

Basketball Divorce Court (post punk) (x)

Bad Waitress (art punk) (x)

Rural Internet (hip hop, electronic) (x)

The Crystal Furs (indie pop) (x)

Blind Tiger (hardcore metal) (x)

Atomic Broad (punk) (x)

tote bag (tender punk) (x)

Pansy Prep (indie rock, emo) (x)

UT/EX (metalcore, screamo) (x)

Your Heart Breaks (indie pop) (x)

Yam (punk rock) (x)

K's Choice (rock, alt pop) (x)

Elderberry Industries (noise, synth) (x)

Qi.x (kpop) (x)

The Mermerings (folk punk) (x)

Refractory Period (synthpop) (x)

fenix (rock) (x)

Solo Artists

Tape Girl (hyperpop, ska) (x)

Titica (kuduro, pop) (x)

Lauren Bousfield (synth punk) (x)

Liniker (r&b) (x)

TRVDWIFE (grindcore, cybergrind) (x)

Stomach Book (electronic, indie rock) (x)

Coyote Grace (bluegrass) (x)

Jake Zyrus (r&b, soul) (x)

D'Nayzja (hyperpop, electronic) (x)

Adeem the Artist (country) (x)

Renee Goust (pop, cumbia) (x)

Linn Da Quebrada (club, Brazilian funk) (x)

The Reverent Marigold (folk) (x)

Çağla Akalın (arabesque) (x)

Jessie Chung (Malaysian pop) (x)

Spike Fuck (post-punk, smackwave) (x)

Shea Diamond (soul, r&b) (x)

Vivek Shraya (pop, dance) (x)

Mocchi (folk, alt rock) (x)

SuperKnova (indie pop) (x)

Creep-P (hyperpop) (x)

Aljas (rap) (x)

Sylvia Baudelaire (rap) (x)

London Jade (hip-hop, rap) (x)

Susy Shock (tango) (x)

Slugwife (hyperpop) (x)

Jupiter Fiction (singer-songwriter) (x)

Mrs. Yéyé (punk) (x)

Lady Charles (glam rock) (x)

Mily Taormina (indie) (x)

Dope Saint Jude (rap, hip-hop) (x)

Imbi the Girl (hip-hop, rap) (x)

187 (drum'n'bass) (x)

zombAe (experimental hip hop, electronic) (x)

The Official Bard of Baldwin County (folk) (x)

Skylar Rose Stravinsky (singer-songwriter) (x)

hard Tiddies (country, singer-songwriter) (x)

Bunny Danger (punk) (x)

Ataru Nakamura (pop) (x)

Anjimile (folk) (x)

Villano Antillano (rap, urbano) (x)

Lauren Auder (indie pop) (x)

Justin Vivian Bond (cabaret) (x)

Namoli Brennet (folk, indie rock) (x)

Mya Byrne (Americana, folk) (x)

Quinn Christospherson (indie rock) (x)

Jayne County (proto-punk, glam rock) (x)

Katie Dey (experimental pop) (x)

Electra Elite (electropop, dance) (x)

Quay Dash (hip-hop, rap) (x)

[jewish-vents]

one of the scariest things about the way the world seems right now is that the people perpetuating and normalizing some of the most vile antisemtism ive ever experienced in my life think that they are the heroes. They think they are the good guys. They think history will look back on them and smile and thank them for “exterminating the (((dirty zio vermin))).” as if that isn’t nearly the exact language used against us during the actual holocaust (and not what they’re rewriting the holocaust to have been in order to further hurt and demean and invalidate us), as if a year ago today they wouldn’t have reblogged a post saying exactly that but tagged with “it’s always morally correct to punch a nazi”. They don’t realize how quickly and easily they became the nazis they purported to hate and destroy. They don’t realize that they’ve become the nazis they accuse us of being.

I hope for the safety of our people that one day they’ll lose sleep at night from the guilt and regret they feel when they remember what they said and did to us. I hope they teach their children the power of propaganda and the dangers of antisemitism out of shame and fear that they might grow up to be as blindly hateful as they once were. I hope they remember that the nazis thought they were the heroes too.

I’ve been trying to write to get my fear and anger out, I want to post my thoughts but im genuinely afraid to publish anything under my own name right now. I hope one day I feel safe enough to finish my work, but until then I only feel strong enough to share my thoughts here, anonymously. Thank you for giving me this outlet and I hope my thoughts can either make someone else feel a little less alone, or even better yet, change some minds. - r

.

[sxrpxnt-k1ng]

I want to eradicate every single soul who has ever entered your mind that is not mine. They're vermin, infesting my sweet love's mind.

How could I ever live a life knowing such vile beings are around? Taking my own darling's thoughts away from me?

It's insufferable to even imagine.

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Love, Eternal // [Part IV]

Pairing | Phantom x Sister!Reader

Word count | 1385

⚠️ Warnings | Reader uses she/her pronouns, (y/n) is used once. There is a ritual scene. TW for murder ghouls, blood, injuries, assault, violence, and death.

Plot Summary: Today was Phantom's summoning day, a special occasion akin to a birthday. Eager to surprise him with a homemade cake, you realize you're missing ingredients and head into town. On the way back, you encounter trouble with some members of the Catholic church that changes the course of your life in the Ministry - and with Phantom - forever.

A/N: I TOLD YOU IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING! This is the last part! Thank you so much for reading this far, I hope it was an enjoyable read. Much love 🖤 xo Emery

[Prev]

Phantom returned a short while later, Swiss and Dew silently trailing him. The poor ghoul was absolutely overcome with grief. Once he found you in the driveway, he could immediately smell the putrid odour of the men who did this to you, their scents still fresh on your beaten body.

When he left the Ministry he had no thoughts but revenge. It was easy for him to pick up on their scent once he was outside, his abilities and senses heightened in his manic state. 

Swiss and Dew knew better than to interrupt a ghoul on a warpath, so they kept their distance, allowing Phantom to do what needed to be done. Sometimes his packmates had wondered how he ever survived in the pit, his trademark traits of being approachable and kind didn’t fly down there.

However, as his fangs elongated and his claws unglamoured, Phantom was quickly proving to all that he was a ghoul from hell after all; mindlessly pulling the first unfortunate soul apart with ease, Swiss and Dew watched proudly as the young ghoul forced the vile human to choke on his internal organs.

Phantom had begun his hunt.

Walking slowly back to the Abbey, Phantom began to come back to earth. His mind was riddled with thoughts of what he could have done differently; maybe he shouldn’t have skipped so many lessons with Aether to spend time with you, maybe he should’ve asked Omega more questions about what his Quintessence could do before he was sent away.

Lost in his thoughts, he began to weep. The thought of losing you and ultimately failing his older brothers, the thought of realizing you were his mate and never getting the chance to tell you. It was almost too much for Phantom to endure.

The blood smearing across his face as he wiped away his tears only made him cry harder. He was covered in as much blood as you were, the only difference being none of it was his. What’s done was done. He was a murderer now. No better than the vermin he just effortlessly dispatched. Phantom knew they would get a special greeting in hell, and that fact brought him a fleeting sense of relief.

He needed to see you one last time. He made his way back up to the main ritual room where he knew Copia would still be with you, but he never could’ve imagined what would be waiting for him once he got there. Rain and Mountain were already inside, the arrangements long forgotten. Dew and Swiss made their appearances known as they stepped behind the young ghoul who had been stopped in the doorway.

“I need to see her, Papa. Please. Just once.”

Copia silently signalled Dew and Swiss closer. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Excuse me?” The fury in Phantom’s eyes quickly returned.

Copia knew better than to get in the way of an angry ghoul, learning his lesson as a child growing up with Alpha, but he stood fast. “Phantom, there’s something you need to know–“

However, the young Quint was hearing none of it as he pushed past Copia and wiggled out of his brothers' grasp.

What he found as he entered further into the room was exactly what he expected: you. What he didn’t expect to see was you… alive? This must have been a dream. He shut his blood stained eyes once, and then twice. You were right in front of him, now sitting between Rain and Mountain in the same place he watched you die - where he felt you die.

What he felt now was something familiar, yet completely new.

Rain had already washed the blood off your face and found you one of the ghoulette’s spare outfits while Mountain had tied up your hair in a ghoulish fashion. Phantom’s brain couldn't compute what he was seeing as he moved cautiously toward where you sat on the ground, still too weak to stand.

Your skin had turned to a violet grey, similar to Phantom’s. Your nails had grown into beautiful claws, and fangs extended where your canines used to be. Your hair turned to a dark blue that almost matched Rain’s, with lighter patches of skin decorating your hairline and cheeks like scales. Phantom noticed your ears were sharp and pointed like Dew's, with the skin at the tip a dark red.

Phantom fell to his knees in front of you, speechless and in awe.

“How–” 

It was like he was looking at an angel gifted from hell. You were one of them now. His beautiful ghuleh, with pieces of all the brothers who helped save you.

When you looked up at Phantom from your place between the two ghouls (who were now your brothers too), Phantom couldn’t contain his tears any longer. Though these were not the tears of sadness and grief from before, these were tears of bewilderment and relief. He didn’t notice at first, but you had the same lighter patch over your eye as he did. Your left eye was a gorgeous shade of ice blue, contrasting the darker grey of the other one. It reminded him of Papa.

“Phantom?”

You were taken aback slightly at the sight of the friendliest ghoul you knew, kneeling in front of you covered in blood from head to toe. He chuckled slightly at the lisp you had when you called his name, not used to your fangs yet. You had extra long ones too, thanks to Swiss. If he was in any other situation, Phantom would've found it incredibly hot.

“If I had known, I would’ve washed up.” He said, looking down at his bloodied attire. His brothers moved aside so Phantom could wrap you in a hug that he never wanted to leave, eager to have your new scent permanently etched onto his soul. “I’m here. I’m never leaving you again.”

The two of you sat like that for a while, your newly heightened senses almost becoming overwhelmed with 5 ghouls and Copia all in the same room. However, if you focused on Phantom, everything felt calm and quiet. You felt safe, wondering if this is how he felt every time he was with you.

You didn’t really know what happened. One minute you were struggling to breathe outside after getting ambushed, the next you had died. Rain and Mountain gave you the Coles notes version of what happened when you awoke. None of which you remembered. You don’t remember much of your time in the pit either. There were ghouls everywhere and it was warm, but not unbearable like you had come to fear it would be. There was one thing you did remember from your time down below though…

“Hey,” you said, as you pushed Phantom off you to look him in the eye. Normally that would’ve been impossible, but you’d worry about that weirdness later. “The devil says Happy Birthday.”

Phantom smiles wider than you have ever seen and places his forehead on yours before desperately, but lovingly, crashing his lips on yours.

“Let’s see Jesus do THAT.” Dew blurts out, completely ruining the tender moment, but not a soul in this room could care as everyone lets out a laugh.

“My dear ghuleh,” Copia says softly, approaching as Phantom helps you to your feet. ��You don’t have to choose right now, but in light of your new situation, if there is perhaps a new name you feel is better suited? I can make arrangements on your behalf.”

“Eris.” You spoke as you leaned into Phantom’s touch. “Like the goddess of chaos, cause that’s exactly how this all feels.”

Copia smiled warmly, “Then welcome back to the Ministry, Eris.”

Standing behind you, Phantom cradled you protectively in his arms, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “It’s perfect.”

Copia and your new family left you to get reacquainted. You returned the affection as you twisted to hug your lover once again, relishing in the sweetest scent you had ever experienced as you began to involuntarily rub your cheek over his chest. You were starting to realize what the ghouls meant about the scent thing, Phantom’s was intoxicating and you never wanted to leave. It was like he was made just for you.

“So… I guess no cake then, huh?” Phantom snickers as he leaves soft kisses behind your ear before continuing down your neck.

You quickly pulled away from his embrace. “That was supposed to be a surprise!”

His hands interlocked and rested along the base of your spine. His amused gaze lovingly met the look of disappointment on your face before you let out a frustrated ‘ugh!’ and headbutted his chest.

“Ow!” He yelped. “Sweetheart you’ve got horns now, and apparently Dew gave you some flippin’ pointy ones too.”

“Oops.”

You looked up at Phantom sympathetically, your tail suddenly making an appearance and wrapping around his leg.

“You got my tail though,” he winked.

“My darling ghoul, you have all of me. My heart, my life, and my love, eternally.”

[Prev]