faint green light

im̷ g͟o̶i͞ng̛ to ̴wi͏n.͢
( darkiplier / antisepticeye )
im̷ g͟o̶i͞ng̛ to ̴wi͏n.͢

Script submitted by: @hufflepufftrax

A short, high pitched cackle echoed in the shadows.

“You felt it too, huh?” Asked a deep voice. It was addressing the being who had laughed. A green glow shined in the dark followed by a sharp toothed grin.
“O̧h̴ ͏ye͝ah I͠ f̨e̢lt̵ ҉i̧t̸ a͏lright͜. It’̢s ͏st͠rơng.”̢ a figure emerged surrounded by a faint, green light around them. They had a darker green in their spiky hair and a tidy beard that lined their mouth and jaw. They wore a black t-shirt and black jeans on their slim frame. He seemed to twitch as if the majority of his muscles were being subjected to small shocks. “A soul full of rage” said the deep voice. “Dark ͞woul͡d ya ̕j̷ust̵ a͡ppear a͟ĺr̀e̷a̶d͠y?̛”͢ Said the figure as he tapped his foot impatiently. 

“Always one to rush aren’t you, Anti?” Said the deep voice as another figure came from the black, inky surroundings. This man wore a smart, grey suit with a black tie. His hair was jet black with his fringe swept to one side. His body seemed to distort in the little light that was in the void they stood in.
“D̀i̡d͞ ͜y͡ou̸ ̡say ͢r͡ag͢e?”̢ Questioned Anti “I don’t see rage, I see energy and I want it” Dark sneered at Anti. “̡̕B̢́͞ac̸k̨͜ ̴̸o̕f̧̛f̵̨̧!̸” He growled “Al̵l ҉th̶at͢ a͞n̕ge̛r͜ ҉m̸ȩa͡n͟s͞ ͘a͘ ͞pass͠i̷onate͝ ̨s͡o̧ul͡. ̛Įt͏’͡s̨ ̧min̡e̷”̀ Anti’s green eye gleamed as he grinned at Dark.
“͘Al͠l͜ t͏h̷at̨ ̨e͡ne̕rg͞y̸ m̧eáns ͏l̨i̸f̵ę ͠a̶nd͡ ͡I̵ ͠néed͢ ̶a ͞t́op ̢u͡p. Se҉em͡ş m͡y ̶hos̕t̕ i͠s şt̵i͝ll͢ ͏g͠o҉t̡ a b͞it͟ o̴f ̨fi̸gh͞t̵ ̷in ̵h̨i͏m”
Dark folded his arms and stared at the demon in front of him. That grin always annoyed him. Anti was too happy, too erratic and impulsive even when the host body was fighting to regain control. He had to reign him in if he wanted to win this soul they could sense. He gave a low chuckle as he came up with an idea. “Let’s make it interesting” Anti twitched his head and narrowed his eyes. “W͞ha͜dd͟y҉a h͝áve͠ ̕i͘n҉ ͞m̨in͟d̶?̵” ͜“Whoever loses has to let their host take their body back” Anti’s face turned serious. “̵T̷h̡at’s s͟om͞e high͝ s̶t́ák͝es,͡ ̡Da̸rk͠.͡” The smartly dressed Demon broke into a smile. “Scared you’ll lose?” “Tc͡h,͜”̸ spat Anti “I m̶eant͠ t̵he̶ ҉s̴ta͟k͞es ͟a͟re ͏h̡i͢gh͏ f̀or ͠you҉,̧ ya ͜m̛o͠r̵ơn”  “We shall see” said Dark, seemingly unfazed by Anti’s taunt. With that, Dark faded back into the shadows. Anti was left alone in the dark void. He shook his head. He could hear his host shouting within his mind. ̕“̵Got͡ta s̷h̕ut ͠yo͜u u̕p ̴q̨ui҉ck.̶ ̴I ̴a͘in͘’̡t ̧gi̡v̧in̶’ ̵u͏p̧ ̧t͏h͝is ̸body͝.͜ Ţi̢m͡e ͝t̕o w̸i͏n̸ t͢h́at ̛s̴o͡u̧l͡” he quickly left the void in a trial of green smoke.

when jim and spock retire to a cozy apartment in san francisco, jim wants to put glow in the dark stars up on the ceiling and spock doesnt really understand because theyre not the same as real stars but he helps jim put them up anyways and then later that night when theyre tangled together in bed looking up at the faint green light jim turns to him and softly says “we made our own constellations” and suddenly spock thinks that he might understand a bit

Make Them Stay

Lance stares at the glowing plastic stars on his ceiling, their faint green and yellow light shifting as his eyes roam through them.

His entire room is dark, the stars being his only source of light, and he tries to count them, to burn them into his memory for future comfort.

They disappear, however, when his eyes move. He lays eyes on one of them but the small ones surrounding it disappear, only reappearing when his gaze moves but losing a few others in the process.

It’s an eyesight trick; he knows that much but still, it’s a little sad to watch them fade away when he wanted them to stay.

Something shifts next to him and Lance is finally able to look away, eyes falling into a soft blue-ish galaxy as Keith blinks sleepily at him.

Lance’s heart beats and he smiles.

Keith’s stars stay.

Works Every Time

Originally posted by oliviaholt

Gil x Reader

Works Every Time

Summary: A curse sweeps over Auradon High, affecting the reader. Could the son of Gaston be the only one to break the spell?

Note: Not requested, but I’ve had this thought for a while now. I just started school, so until I get my book written, fics are gonna be a bit scarce. I’m so sorry, but I’ll be here to answer all of your asks in the meantime.

Warnings: Gil flufffffff

Word Count: 1280

They didn’t know how it had happened. Someone somewhere had triggered some ancient magic that had slept long-dormant in Auradon and now Evie and Mal stood over your collapsed form, looking down on you in concern.

What they thought had been an incident involving low blood sugar or over-exhaustion had been disproved quickly by the faint green light that was emitting from your still body. Mal knew what this was almost immediately, the realization causing her to gasp and cover her mouth.

“Oh no…” Mal knelt down beside you. So did Evie. Each of their mothers had cast a curse like this once upon a time, but being here, seeing it in action was worse than either of them could have imagined. Your skin was cold, your eyes closed shut, and the girls immediately called Jay and Carlos, unsure of what to do.

If this curse had knocked the child of Snow White and her Prince out cold, there was no telling what it would do to the others.

“So what do we do?” Carlos asked.

“Jay, can you carry (Y/N) up to our room?” Mal asked. “I can figure out how to break the curse from there. Probably.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Jay scooped you into his arms easily and helped move you up to the dorms, laying you down on Mal’s bed. He made sure your head was on the pillow and your hair was out of your face. If they couldn’t wake you up for a while, he at least wanted you to be comfortable.

“Carlos, Jay, go to Fairy Godmother and get my spell book. Tell her what’s going on. Maybe she can help.”

“On it.” Carlos set Dude down and looked at him sternly. “Stay.” And though he could no longer talk, the tan dog still whined, disgruntled but obeying. Then, Carlos and Jay were out the door to get help.


Fairy Godmother was baffled. She and Mal had been at work trying to wake you up for hours now. No spell from the wand or the book could break whatever curse had swept over you. So they stopped working for the time being, turning to other areas of research, looking up other spells or incantations that could have done something like this.

It was much later that Gil knocked on your dorm room, only to get no response. Somewhat surprised, he knocked again.

“(Y/N)? Are you here?”

Jay had picked the perfect time to walk through the hallway your dorm was in.

“Gil, what are you doing?” Jay asked. The son of Gaston was dressed in a nice shirt and slacks, his hair pulled back behind his head and his war paint nowhere in sight.

“(Y/N) and I were gonna go on a picnic. But the door is locked and there’s no one in there.”

Oh. Right. Gil had finally asked you out. Of course something like this would happen on the day of your first date.

“Um…you might want to come with me.” Jay led him down the hall and knocked on Mal and Evie’s dorm.

Evie opened the door, eyes widening at the sight of Gil and Jay. Gil raised an eyebrow at the sight of the blue haired girl and wondered why Jay had brought him here, but then he saw you knocked out on the bed, weird green magic swirling above you. His stomach dropped. This was not good. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew it wasn’t good.

“She’s cursed, Gil. We don’t know how to wake her up.” Evie told him softly.

Gil took slow heavy steps towards you. Even when you were cursed, you were so damn beautiful. He sat down on the bed beside you and took your hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. The look in his eyes was so sad and so pure that it stopped Mal in her tracks when she glanced over. Maybe…

“How did this happen?” he asked. His voice was so quiet the others had barely heard him.

“We…we don’t know.” Mal looked at your sleeping form and then back to Gil. And then she motioned for the others to follow her. “We’re going to the library to…do some more research. You stay here and…keep an eye on (Y/N).”

“Call us if anything happens,” Jay added. The others nodded before leaving Gil alone with you.

He was quiet for a long time, studying your features and then he turned his gaze to the window. His hand was still fastened around your own, thumb tracing slow circles in your cold skin. You were breathing, but you were so, so cold. Trapped in a sleep like death.

Where had he heard that before? Surely, he’d heard it on the Isle somewhere. A sleep like death.

Thinking about something that bad happening to you made Gil sad. You were everything to him. Everyone, even his friends from the Isle, thought he was dumb. They always made him feel stupid, and he really tried not to be, but he was afraid it was something he couldn’t help. But you didn’t care. You listened to him. You encouraged him to speak his mind, even if every word that came out of his mouth wasn’t as intelligent as the others’. You made him feel smart.

But if he were really all that smart, he could help the others think up a way to help you.

“(Y/N),” his voice was quiet, sincere. He gave your hand a squeeze. “Listen, I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know what happened, but I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I…I know I’m no prince or anything, but…I could be for you. I’ll be anything you want me to be, I just need you to wake up.”

You didn’t move. His face fell as he thought about the things he had said. The mention of a prince…he had grown up hearing about sleeping curses. And maybe, just maybe he knew how to break one.

Slowly, gently, Gil leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss to your lips. He sat back up and watched you for a few seconds, eyes searching desperately for the tiniest bit of movement. When nothing happened, his heart sank and he closed his eyes.

But while his eyes were closed, he didn’t see you blinking your eyes. Everything was blurry for a few seconds while you blinked. Your lips were still warm, tingling from the kiss Gil had given you. You looked up to him, warmth flowing through you as a smile found your face.

“You’re a prince to me.” You whispered, causing his eyes to bolt open. The smile on his face was nearly blinding. You struggled to sit up, but managed. His arm wrapped around you to support you, keeping you upright.

“I…But I’m…”

“I don’t care what you think you are, Gil. You are so kind and so sweet and…well, apparently, you’re my true love.” You both laughed a little. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks. “But I think I should have seen that one coming.”

You both stayed like that for a few lingering seconds longer until Gil couldn’t take it anymore and pulled you into his arms, holding you close. He had never in his years on the Isle expected that he would get a happy ending. But here it was, and it felt amazing.

The others opened the door to the sight of you in Gil’s arms, your head over his heart.

Evie sighed, a smile forming over her ruby lips. “True love’s kiss. Works every time…”

A conversation in the void

A short, high pitched cackle echoed in the shadows.
“You felt it too, huh?” Asked a deep voice. It was addressing the being who had laughed.
A green glow shined in the dark followed by a sharp toothed grin.
“Oh yeah I felt it alright. It’s strong.” a figure emerged surrounded by a faint, green light around them. They had a darker green in their spiky hair and a tidy beard that lined their mouth and jaw. They wore a black t-shirt and black jeans on their slim frame. He seemed to twitch as if the majority of his muscles were being subjected to small shocks.
“A soul full of rage” said the deep voice.
“Dark would ya just appear already?” Said the figure as he tapped his foot impatiently.
“Always one to rush aren’t you, Anti?” Said the deep voice as another figure came from the black, inky surroundings. This man wore a smart, grey suit with a black tie. His hair was jet black with his fringe swept to one side. His body seemed to distort in the little light that was in the void they stood in.
“Did you say rage?” Questioned Anti “I don’t see rage, I see energy and I want it”
Dark sneered at Anti.
“Back off!” He growled “All that anger means a passionate soul. It’s mine”
Anti’s green eye gleamed as he grinned at Dark.
“All that energy means life and I need a top up. Seems my host is still got a bit of fight in him”

Dark folded his arms and stared at the demon in front of him. That grin always annoyed him. Anti was too happy, too erratic and impulsive even when the host body was fighting to regain control. He had to reign him in if he wanted to win this soul they could sense. He gave a low chuckle as he came up with an idea.
“Let’s make it interesting”
Anti twitched his head and narrowed his eyes.
“Whaddya have in mind?”
“Whoever loses has to let their host take their body back”
Anti’s face turned serious.
“That’s some high stakes, Dark.”
The smartly dressed Demon broke into a smile.
“Scared you’ll lose?”
“Tch,” spat Anti “I meant the stakes are high for you, ya moron”
“We shall see” said Dark, seemingly unfazed by Anti’s taunt
With that, Dark faded back into the shadows.
Anti was left alone in the dark void. He shook his head. He could hear his host shouting within his mind.
“Gotta shut you up quick. I ain’t givin’ up this body. Time to win that soul” he quickly left the void in a trial of green smoke.

Starving Static part3

Chase drifted in and out of sleep, between the pain in his arm and his paranoia he never managed to sleep more than a handful of minutes at a time. He considered waking Marvin up so at the very least he’d have someone to help take his mind off things, it was funny how he never noticed how lively things were around the young magician until he was left alone in the middle of the night. Groaning he rolled over and tried his best to get some more sleep, thankful for the white noise that he could hear.

There were no electrics in the room, Chase screamed internally before peeking his eyes open. The glitch bitch couldn’t even wait twenty four hours before coming at him again? Straining his eyes in the dark he searched for a flicker in reality that would give away Anti’s position and prayed the one theory he was able to come with was true. A green line flickered into view, swallowing hard Chase launched himself off the the bed in the direction of the light and cried out when he came into something solid.

“You mother fucker!” The writhing mass of glitches snarled in a distorted voice as Chase frantically tried to make sense of how his dumb idea had actually worked. Anti seethed and tried to swing at his captor only to have his arm slammed down and pinned to the floor beside him. Ignoring the burning in his arm Chase raised his head to try understand exactly what had happened. His good hand wrapped tight around Anti’s wrist, keeping it a safe distance from himself while his injured arm was trapped under the demon’s thrashing body, the rest of him was sprawled between glitching legs.

Anti growled and cursed under him, his glitching becoming more chaotic as he tried to use his free hand to lash out a Chase like a feral animal caught in a snare before slowing to a near stop. Leaving only his outline and his neon irises flickering in and out.

“Chase?” Marvin called with a soft knock, voice thick from sleep. “You okay? I heard you shout…”

“Yeah! Yeah man I’m alright….Just fell out of bed and scared myself ‘sall,” Chase panted out of breath from trying to keep his grip on the writhing man under him.

“Want me to call Henrik?”

“Nah. I’m sure he’ll swing by in the morning. G'night bro.” He called trying to keep his voice level as one of his cuts reopened.

“Night.” Marvin yawned and Chase waited until he heard his door shut before looking back at Anti. He kept struggling against him but, now that his glitches had seemed to vanish he looked more panicked and desperate to escape. Finally he stilled, panting hard and flashing his fangs as he glared up at his human captor furry and panic written across his face.
Huffing Chase met his glare and let loose a nervous giggle. His crazy idea actually worked.  Giggling hard now he rested his head against the demon’s stomach and smiled.

“You can’t glitch away like this can you?” He asked in between his laughter, feeling Anti tense up under him before he chuckled himself.

“And you can’t stay there all night.” He sang, the distortion in his voice softer now.

“I’ve got two kids bro. Won’t be the first time I’ve spent the night between someone’s legs.” Chase chuckled breathlessly, happy that at the very least he could hold Anti prisoner. Giving off a low growl Anti sighed and shut his eyes, unwilling to comment on what the other had said. Taking advantage of his sudden calmness Chase raised his head to get a better look at the creature thay he and his friends had come to fear. Without his glitches he looked too much like Jack for Chase to be comfortable with. The two could be twins just based on looks alone. Looking down at the quick rise and fall of his chest raised new questions in the back of Chase’s mind. Against his better judgment he asked.

“Are you okay..?” He was barely aware he had said it let alone if Anti had heard him but, the increase in demon’s breathing told him otherwise. With his eyes screwed shut, his heavy breathing and the low yet constant whine coming from his body he looked pound for pound like a trapped animal. Panicked and feral.
“You really can’t get away can you?” Chase asked voice even softer this time. It didn’t matter if Anti heard him or not at this point he seemed too caught up in his own thoughts to really notice his would be prey. Carefully sliding his abused arm out from under Anti’s body he pulled himself up being sure to keep a good grip on the other’s wrist, not wanting to completely drop his guard and be thanked with a knife through his skull. Checking to be sure that the hand he had pinned was the one that held the knife Chase noticed something new, under his hand was a faint green light with small bolts of lighting arcing from the point.

“Woa. You’re like a plasma ball. Does your whole body do that?” He asked laying a hand on an exposed part of Anti’s stomach just above the hip.

“STOP!” He bellowed voice booming and splitting into a repeating chorus of the word as the glitching returned violent it it’s flashing and the way it shattered Anti's   image. In the brief chaos Chase reflexively pulled back from the demon to have him desperately slash at him and try to pull away before he could recover and pin both of Anti’s wrists above his head. Looking down at him once again Chase saw that he was really hyperventilating as his eyes darted around irises flashing briefly as  constant stream of 'Nonono..’ flowed from his mouth.
Something about this wasn’t right. Looking down the image  Anti pinned down, legs sprawled under and around him, pleading and unable to breath mad his stomach turn. It was wrong. It was unatural for him to have the upper hand but, this…?
It was practically assult. He didn’t care demon or otherwise, no one should have to feel the way Anti was now and especially if he had anything to do about it.

“Hey…” He said gently but loud enough to break through the others constant streams of 'no’.
“I’m…. I’m going to trust you okay bro? …I’m going to let you sit up and breath. Okay? Just breath…” Chase said softly letting his grip off of the demon’s free hand and slowly backing off as far as he could without letting go of his armed one. Instantly Anti backed up as far as he could, trying to jerk his arm free.

“I said STOP!” He snapped desperation replaced by furry as he bared his fangs the mortal man and tried to push him off of him. Chase put his hand flat on Anti’s stomach, just under where his shirt had ridden up and watched him closely. Again he froze, body tense under Chase’s hand.

“You’ve never been touched before…” He said absently watching the way pale green lighting arced and moved under his palm, a manic giggle brought him back.

“Do you really think people want touch me?!” Anti snapped and giggled wildly, feral smile returning to his face.
“I’m Glitch Bitch remember?” He continued his voice heavy with distortion as he kept laughing like he just heard the best joke in the world.
“Who the fuck would lay a hand on me?” He spat.

“I am.” Chase said simply, locking his blue eyes to the other’s eerie green. Just the thought of spending his whole life so alone he couldn’t understand something as simple as touch made him choke up. The first month after he and Stacey had split was hell. To go from constant noise and interaction to nothing, to have the daily comforts of holding hands, of hugs and kisses and a hundred 'I love you’s’ suddenly ripped away was the most god aweful feeling he had ever felt.
He couldn’t even imagine what would be like watching it happen all around him and never being able to take part.

“I am…” He repeated dumbly
“And I won’t stop if that’s what you want..” If he could keep Anti distracted he could save his friends and more importantly his children. If just a little contact  was what it took then so be it, nothing was wrong with it as long as Anti wanted him to. He wasn’t going to go down as the man who asulted a demon.
Looking down at where Chase had his hand splayed Anti breathed, it didn’t make sense to  him.

“I don’t…” He started only to snap his teeth in Chase’s face.
“You’re lying! You just want to get rid of me like all the orthers!”

“I could’ve. Honestly man… I should kill you. I should yell for Marvin and have him get Jackaboy and Schneeplestein, hell maybe even Jack himself and make sure you can’t come back….” Chase said to himself more than anything before raising his gaze to meet Anti’s once more.

“I probably could’ve done you in myself while you were begging me to stop just a moment ago but, I didnt…. It was wrong. And I don’t care what you are I’m not… I won’t…” He couldn’t finsh his thought. If Anti truelly was something purely evil he wouldn’t have panicked like that. Or at least that was his gut was telling him. Pulling away from the demon completely he sat back on the floor and looked over at him.
Instead of attacking…
Or even challenging the man Anti simply stared down at where his hand once was and glitched away.

OC Redesign for @espellaexpertisa

Now, this OC needed a bit more TLC. The coat was almost white, which is never a good color to use, so I made the coat a very faint light blue-green. I also switched up the hair to be more “snow” colored (the OC is called “Snow Star”), and made it a bit more unique. I also made the eyes a good bit brighter, so they would “pop” more.

Red- Irene (Red Velvet) Part Two

Originally posted by kpoppinpix

Prompt: Regardless of time, place, or circumstance, two people destined to be together are joined by a red string permanently tied on their pinky fingers. You thought it would be easy to find your soulmate. Until you found out who she actually was.

Genre: Romance, Soulmate!AU, Demigod!Irene

Pairing: Irene x Reader

Author’s Note: I know I left a lot of things unresolved in the first part, so here’s the second one! I hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting!

“So let me get this straight…” you began from your place on the couch. All three girls were standing around you. You pointed from girl to girl as you spoke. “You’re Athena’s daughter, Taeyeon is Ares’s daughter, and my soulmate is a demigod of Zeus?”

“That would be what we just told you.” Taeyeon scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Unni!” Irene scolded as she sat down next to you. She looked over at you with a small smile. “Don’t listen to Taeyeon, she consists of pent up anger.”

“So I’m in an alternate universe right now, where you three are on a quest to find a thief?”

“Basically…” Victoria giggled. “Well, I suppose you should stay with us until the mission is complete, it’s not like you can just go back to Earth. You’re welcome to sleep on our couch.”

“It’s getting late, we should all go to bed.” Taeyeon commented, looking around the room. “Goodnight everyone.”

“You coming Irene?” Victoria asked her as she walked down the hallway.

“I’ll be up in a second.” Irene smiled. Her friends nodded, then walked away. Irene turned her head back to you. “So, we’re soulmates…”

“I suppose so…” you began, feeling your face heat up. “I’m sorry, this is just a lot of information to take in all at once.” You chuckled, touching your cheeks. You looked back over at Irene. She was staring at you with an intent but kind gaze.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling uneasy.

“I’m sorry…” she giggled. “You just remind me so much of my human mother.”

“Really?” you asked with a smile, leaning closer to her. “What was she like?”

“She was demure, and sweet… I remember she was always so nice and kind to everyone… which unfortunately led to the birth of me.” she laughed.

“What do you mean, unfortunately?” you asked, surprised. How could anyone say that with a smile?

She brushed a strand on black hair behind her ear. “Well, being the product of a one night stand means that my father was never around… I didn’t even know who he was until the lightning bolts shot right out of my hands in chemistry class one day. Plus, it’s not easy when the “Queen of the Gods” despises you because her husband cheated on her with your mom.”

“Wow, I would expect Hera to be a little more motherly.” you laughed, extremely interested in her life story. How did you meet Taeyeon and Victoria?”

“Well, we are family…” Irene giggled. “I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“I met my friends at the university.” you nodded, looking into her eyes. “Sulli and Hara were high school besties who let Jokwon be their third wheel. I was the new kid that had no friends, and Sulli needed a roommate, so naturally I became part of the group. They’re actually the reason I discovered the red string of fate.”

“Well then, I’m glad you have such great friends.” Irene smiled. “Taeyeon unni was right, it is kind of late. I don’t want to bother you anymore…”

“Oh, believe me, you’re not a bother at all!” you told her, patting her hand. “I could talk to you for hours…” You cringed as you realized how awkward that sounded.

“Me too… I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel this… special connection to you. Like I’ve somehow known you for years.” Irene said with bright eyes filled with adoration.

“But we really should go to bed.” you laughed. Irene nodded, then handed you  a fuzzy white blanket.

“Goodnight, soulmate.”

You woke up in another dark room, save for the small glow of a faint green light. Your head was against a hard surface, and the bare skin on your arms felt cold and rough. You felt a chill go down your spine as you looked around the room, seeing cement walls and broken chains everywhere. Despite the cool vibe, it was blazing hot. You could feel the sweat dripping down your forehead and neck. As you reached up to wipe it away, you realized your hands were chained to the ground. You heart beat intensified as you realized that you were in a cage hanging from the ceiling.

“Irene!” you yelled out with urgency, her name being the first to come to your mind. “Irene, where are you?”

“Have you awoken?” a voice hissed. You searched around the dark shadows of the room, squinting your eyes as you looked for a person. Suddenly, a man emerged from the darkness. He had thick curly black hair, and dark green eyes that resembled those of a snake. He had a creepy aura about him.

You went into panic mode as you saw his face. “Where am I, who are you?”

“Forgive me for my informalities, miss. I am Jay, demigod of Hades. My sources have told me that you have in fact met my dear cousins Irene, Taeyeon, and Victoria.” he began, walking around the room as he spoke. “I assume they’ve told you that they’re on a mission to catch the thief of Olympus… I am, said thief.”

“Why have you kidnapped me?” you demanded, putting your hands on the bars of the cage. “I haven’t done anything, I don’t even know where I am…” You could feel tears of frustration and fear form in your eyes.

“Don’t worry, miss Y/N, I want nothing with you.” he told you, looking over at you with a reassuring gaze. “I only took you to lead my dear cousins to me. They should be arriving in three.. two…”

Suddenly, a golden glow illuminated in the darkness of the room. Soon, three figures appeared. You instantly recognized them as Irene, Taeyeon, and Victoria.

“Y/N!” Irene yelled in desperation as she saw you.

“You go get her, Irene. Victoria, you find the stolen items of Olympus. I’ll take on our rat of a cousin.” Taeyeon hissed, her lips forming a scowl as she ran over to your kidnapper. Red light emitted from her hands as she attacked him, the natural instinct of war running through her veins. Victoria went around using her inherited wisdom and logic to search for several stolen items.

Irene ran over to your cage as fast as she could, jumping up in the air and latching onto the cars. “Y/N, are you alright, did he hurt you?”

“No, he just used me to get you guys here…” you quaked, linking your fingers with hers through the bars of the cage. “But Irene, it was so scary….”

“Hey, look at me…” Irene began. You stared into her dark eyes that instantly made all of your muscles relax. She formed her red lips into a reassuring smile as she brushed her long dark locks out of her eyes. “I’m going to get you out of here…”

She began to fiddle with the lock, muttering several frustrated words under her breath. Sweat ran down her forehead as she gave her all, and finally, the lock snapped off. She reached in and pulled you out, embracing you as you both landed on the ground.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I promise this will never happen to you again…” she told you, holding you tightly in her arms.

“Yah! You two! Stop making out, I’m learning from the master!” Jokwon whined, scowling at you and Irene. He turned his attention back to Taeyeon, who was sitting in a lawn chair, staring at the sky through sunglasses while enjoying a cool drink.

“Okay, so the Goddes of the hunt is-”

“Artemis.” Taeyeon told him apathetically.

Jokwon scrambled to write down the information in his notebook. “And the Goddess of Vi-”


“And the Goddess of-”

“Aphrodite. Athena. Hera. Demeter.” Taeyeon finished, setting her sunglasses on the top of her head as she gave Jokwon a grin.

“How do you know so much about Greek Mythology?” Jokwon marveled, looking at her in awe. He earned a glare from everyone else at the table.

“Yah, if it was really mythology, would my girlfriend be standing in front of us right now?” you asked, squinting your eyes at Jokwon. Irene giggled and put her arm around you.

“To answer your question, Jokwon, it’s not knowledge. It’s in my blood. It’s something I just knew as soon as I found out my dad was a God.” Taeyon told him matter of factly.

“Back to what we were saying, what’s your guys’s favorite subject to study?” Victoria asked, turning back to her new friends Sulli and Hara.

“We really like ancient Chinese history.” Sulli told her as she took a sip of her lemonade. “After all, that’s what helped us to meet you three.”

You all smiled. You looked over at Irene and gazed into her familiar dark eyes, ad before you knew it, you were only a few inches away from touching lips…

Suddenly, a cloud of smoke burst through the air, revealing the figure of a woman. She had long dark hair and beautiful gray eyes. She wore a long red dress, and had the most sincere smile.

“Hey mom!” Victoria said with a wave and a smile.

“Goddess Athena!” you all said, bowing your heads to her.

She smiled and nodded her head. “Zeus congratulates you on your victory in catching the thief of Olympus. He would like to request your help on a new mission.”

“Ugh, I hate when my Dad sends me to Olympus…” Irene groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Well, duty calls.” Taeyeon sighed, getting up from her lawn chair. “Good luck on your test tomorrow guys!”

“Thanks Taeyeon!” you told her with a small smile. You turned your attention back to your girlfriend. “Do you have to go?”

“Well, I’m afraid dating a demigod comes with sacrifices.” she giggled. She leaned in and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “Don’t worry babe, I won’t be long.”

You all waved goodbye as the three girls joined hands with a Athena and closed their eyes. Soon, they vanished, a faint cloud of red smoke lingering in the air.


Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed the second part to the scenario! I know I left a lot unresolved, so I apologize for that! Thanks again for requesting, I hope you all enjoyed this!


-Marie 💗

Another birthday gift for my darling @missladytale was planning this for a while so thought i would wait for your birthday to make a fic which is about the RottenRubi pairing and of course features pregnant Rotten >u>

Based on this picture here https://twinklephoenix.tumblr.com/post/167269965021/another-birthday-gift-for-my-darling-missladytale

RottenRubi - A Promise for the Future 

Marubi summoned his large strawberry vine which delicately and as gentle as it could be lifted Rotten up so he was able to easily reach Marubi face. As Marubi leaned forward, he placed a feathered kissed on Rotten cheekbone, causing the other to blush this, in turn, caused Marubi to let out a soft low purr of approval and placed another kiss on Rotten cheek. Briefly, he allowed his eyes to wander down to where a faint glow could be seen under Rotten turtleneck sweater there cradled safely in his ecto tummy was the new life the two had created together. He looked back up at Rotten and was greeted by two pulsing green heart orbs and a very nervous smile “Marubi precious mate is always so adorable” he whispered softly before kissing the other once more leaving Rotten in a blissful daze. Marubi large tail curled and his wings fluttered as he rested his head against the other and looked into his mate’s eyes and spoke one more “My precious Rotten I will protect you and our young just as you have done for me continuous times, ” he purred kissing Rotten once more deepen the kiss as a soft glow continued to bath both their stomachs in a faint green light with a new life was forming but how much only time would tell.

Rotten Belongs to @missladytale

Marubi belongs to @twinklephoenix


Muted faces in the dim light
Pale blue ocean eyes
A face out of a film
That I know I should recognize
And I can see a faint green light from where I stand
New York sensations
No one lives upon it but you
I remember you on the telephone
But now its three feet away
In the same room,
In the same place
Sharp as knives
Crimson face
They’re watching us from the side
Throwing away something bad
For some something worse
You can meet me in the back
Nothing to worry about
Nothing to worry about

Pale face in the red light
Dripping from your lips like blood
Young gods in disguise
Its a lonely world
And a lonely face
Its only one empty bottle away
I can see the green light from where I stand
New York sensations
Broken bottles and cigarette ash
I remember you on the telephone
With your pale face
Now its mimicking the flames
In the same room,
In the same place
They’re watching them burn
But the fire never leaves a trace
We’ll lose them in the back
Nothing to worry about
Theres nothing to worry about

Green light
Blue eyes
Been here before
But not like this
In the presence of the ocean
And its sitting at my lips
How late its getting
You sighed
Against the wall
With the night on our side
We’re young gods in disguise
Ultraviolent in your mind
Muted faces in the dim light

Kashvi Lal

It was late one afternoon when Kashvi was laying on the living room couch, blankly staring at the ceiling. Her sketchbook was on the coffee table, she kept it close by, a habit of hers. She looked over at the sketchbook and began to recall the day that her friend Mishka came into her life.

She was a teenager then, a lonely child in an orphanage that doubled over as a boarding school. The adults, or ’’caregivers’’ of the orphanage were kind to Kashvi, but this didn’t stop her from feeling lonesome there. She found it difficult to maintain friendships, the children she had tried to know did not stay very long.

The years passed and Kashvi watched as other children departed the orphanage with new and loving families. She tried not to think about why she was still stuck there, but it was hard. Kashvi was a kind and polite child, she did not misbehave often. She struggled to understand why she still remained in that place. She did not bond with new arrivals, she instead took to isolating herself from the other children altogether.

She grew older, and as a teenager, she tried to put as much distance between herself and the orphanage as possible. Kashvi would spend the whole day after classes wandering Willow Creek until the 7pm curfew. In the boarding school, an upcoming class project was approaching, this was an opportunity for Kashvi to show off her drawing skills.

She was a talented artist for someone so young, her art was realistic, and her drawings sprung off the page to all who viewed them. This project would give Kashvi the chance to explore Willow Creek more, as she intended to present drawings to the class of the lesser known areas of the town. She wanted to bring something new and interesting to class.

She felt if she could excel in her schoolwork, that families would be more likely to notice her. “They want a kid with good grades” she would tell herself, “Someone who really tries in school.” Kashvi had walked farther into Willow Creek, into the parts of the town she had not been before. She stumbled on a solitary road, with stretches of woodland on each side. Beams of sunlight speckled the long road, peeking through the shade cast by the tall trees.

It seemed peaceful and quiet.

It was five in the afternoon, Kashvi decided she had plenty of time to take a stroll down the road and make it back by curfew, she was curious to see where it would lead her. She continued down the street, and as she walked she began to dwell on her situation at the orphanage. She could not help but feel dissatisfied with her life. These were thoughts she tried to push out of her mind.

Kashvi although well treated, hated living there. She disliked watching new arrivals leave so soon, and she did not expect to see herself counted among the people who would likely grow up there. She tried not too, but still, she felt envious of the children going to their new homes. She wondered what was so wrong with her that she was still living there after all these years
These uncomfortable feelings were eating at Kashvi, and she was lost in her thoughts as she walked down the road.

The isolation, the loneliness, it was all too much.

She found comfort in drawing and would distract herself from the sadness with her art. Kashvi felt sorrow with every step she took, and she wanted to cry for the first time in a while.

Not a single car drove by Kashvi during her walk, and she had not yet seen a house. Only a peaceful and well-lit forest. The Autumn trees had started to die, but there were still patches of scattered color throughout the woods.

“How can I feel like this with a view like that?” Kashvi wiped her glossy eyes as she admired the scenery. She continued walking, but she was beginning to wonder how far this road actually went. She debated with herself on turning back, but before she made the decision she noticed a small wooden home in the distance. Kashvi sped up and saw that it was a shop, set up on a dead end street with nothing but the woods behind it.

Hanging from the porch was a sign that said “Annabeth’s Oddities.”

The timeworn shop was tiny, with tattered curtains hanging from the front windows. The wood was dark and cracked in some spots, and the porch had cobwebs in the corners. A strange smell was coming from a window that was slightly opened, and she could see a faint green light shining through the opening. Kashvi grew more curious, and immediately pulled her sketchbook from her backpack and etched a quick rough draft of the place.

She brought herself up the wooden steps which creaked as she climbed them. Kashvi was just about to knock on the door, but suddenly she felt the urge to turn and run from the shop. She hesitated, and before she could make the decision to leave, she heard footsteps behind the door.  

It opened slowly, revealing a little old woman with a friendly smile. She wore a long and puffy dark red dress the color of red wine, with a tall red hat that matched. She greeted Kashvi warmly, and the strange feeling faded entirely.

“Welcome my dear! Please do come in!” the old woman urged Kashvi inviting her inside. Kashvi smiled back and walked in. The inside was far more inviting then the outside appeared. The decorations in the house seemed to match the old woman’s outfit. The wallpaper was also the color of red wine, with draperies that were a lovely hue of cranberry with brown accents.

It was warm and the appearance reminded Kashvi of Fall. The shelves on the walls were lined with trinkets and weird baubles, ranging from cute to rather strange. Hanging from the walls were mirrors, so many mirrors that Kashvi did not even bother trying to count them. The smell that Kashvi noticed outside was stronger now that she was in the shop. She figured the old woman must have been cooking with a lot of spices.

“It’s been so long since I have had a customer, please feel free to look around.”

Kashvi smiled and nodded. She wandered into different rooms, the old lady never far behind, still wearing a warm smile on her face. She seemed friendly, and Kashvi could not believe she was way out here all alone.

They entered a room filled with bizarre plants, all priced differently but Kashvi did not recognize any of them. Some of the plants were tall, with oddly colored leaves in large clay pots, and there were smaller succulents behind glass that were black and seemed to have long tendrils. Her eyes were darting all over the place so quickly she could have sworn she saw one of the plants move.

“Can I interest you in anything in particular?” the woman asked Kashvi as she lingered in the room perplexed by the strange plants.

“This might seem like an odd question,” Kashvi said, “But can I please draw some of these plants?” she asked. The woman smiled, “Such a polite young sim, and an artist at that!” Kashvi blushed. She didn’t think her art was good enough to be called an artist, and she was very modest in accepting any type of praise.

“Of course you can draw them!” she told Kashvi. The old woman watched as Kashvi sketched the tall potted plant in front of her. The leaves of the shrub were pointed and were a bright red color. “Don’t touch that one my dear.” the woman warned kindly, “It’s poisonous.” Kashvi stepped back as she continued her drawing, and she explained her school project to the old woman.

She listened on, happy to continue showing Kashvi around the shop, where she picked an item in each room to add to her sketchbook. Kashvi did not notice at first, but she could swear that the old woman’s shop was much bigger then it seemed, she must have seen at least three rooms by now.

She wasn’t sure how it was possible, as from the outside the shop appeared rather small. If she didn’t know any better she would have said the layout changed a couple of times as well. She was thankful that the old woman was there to guide her.

They slowly passed a closed door with a green glow peeking through the crack underneath. “That is where I work on my homemade remedies,” she said, “Nothing worth drawing in there.” Kashvi was curious but did not want to be rude, so she accepted the old woman’s statement without question.

“Thank you for showing me around your shop, it’s really quite lovely in here, do you get a lot of business?” Kashvi asked. The old woman who Kashvi figured to be Annabeth the owner, closed her eyes and smiled.

“Those who are looking, find their way here.”

Kashvi was puzzled. “Those who are looking for what?” she asked.

Annabeth began walking as she responded and Kashvi followed.

“There is something in my shop for everyone,” she explained, “When I told my sisters I wished to open my shop in Willow Creek instead of our hometown, they protested.” Annabeth chuckled. “I knew I could do some good here though, and I insisted that some would find their way to my shop, and they do.”

Kashvi listened on quietly as Annabeth continued on and they entered the next room. “Those who enter Annabeth’s Oddities don’t know what they’re looking for until they find it.” She thought that the old woman was odd, but she smiled and nodded. She did not want to come off as rude.

She entered the next room with Annabeth. It was mostly empty with a few shelves on the walls, but something stood out to Kashvi. It was a tall glass display case that sat alone in the corner of the room, with a lavender base.

There was not a speck of dust on it, whereas everything else in the room had been covered by a light layer. Inside the box rested on a tiny ornate pillow was a purple pen. The pen was a dark violet color, with white vine etchings that surrounded an engraved word on the side, a word that Kashvi was unable to read.

Kashvi had walked up to the glass case admiring the pen inside. “What a beautiful pen!” Kashvi said excitedly to Annabeth, having to tone down her voice when she noticed how loud it was.

“Yes, beautiful and very special,” Annabeth said standing beside Kashvi. “You would never have to replace the ink in that pen,” Annabeth said, “It will write for as long as you and I are around, even longer.” Kashvi had to stop herself from laughing. It was a stunning pen, but never ending ink?

This old woman must have believed her a fool.

“It’s the most beautiful pen I have ever seen, how much is it?” Kashvi asked. Annabeth smiled, “Twenty thousand dollars.” Kashvi’s mouth dropped. “I told you, the ink will never run out.” Kashvi frowned, surely Annabeth was joking.

“Would you like to test it?” asked the old woman.

“Oh yes please!” Kashvi said excitedly as Annabeth removed the pen from the case. She handed the pen to Kashvi who took it more delicately than she had ever picked up anything in her life.

“What does it say?” Kashvi asked curiously inspecting the engraved words on the side. “It’s a seal.” Annabeth answered, “It helps contain the ink inside of the pen.” Kashvi was beginning to think Annabeth just liked to spin stories. She took out her sketchbook once more. “What should I draw?” she asked.

“Try writing your name,” Annabeth said with a smile.

Kashvi started to write the first letter of her name.


The pen glided across the paper like silk, it was so smooth and effortless.

Kashvi wrote the second letter of her name.


The ink was pitch black and glossy, the most beautiful that she had ever seen.

Kashvi wrote the third letter in her name.


The pen fits so perfectly in Kashvi’s hand she could have believed that it was made for her.

Kashvi was about to write the fourth letter when she just happened to glance up at Annabeth, whose eyes were suddenly large, and whose grin a little too wide. She was taken back by the look of devilish glee on the shopkeepers face. Annabeth’s expression softened when she noticed Kashvi becoming fearful.

Kashvi stopped writing. “I actually have to get going..” Kashvi said uneasily, handing back the pen, “I couldn’t afford this anyway.” The old woman smiled softly. “I was only kidding about the price dearie,” she told Kashvi, “You’ve been so polite to me, and you’re my first visitor in weeks, I’ll let you have the pen for free.”

Kashvi’s fear turned to excitement. “Really?” she asked again making sure she had heard her correctly. “Yes, but I must warn you my dear,” Annabeth said still smiling. “You must never use the pen at night, only during the daytime hours.” Kashvi raised a brow, was the old woman joking again?

She agreed despite feeling skeptical. Annabeth escorted her to the front door and Kashvi kindly thanked Annabeth and proceeded on her way down the lonely street.

“Oh, and Kashvi,” Annabeth called out to her from the front porch, “Do not be too eager to sign your name with that pen.” Kashvi turned around but Annabeth had already closed the door to her shop. Kashvi only thought of her strange words for a moment before realizing that she had never told Annabeth her entire name.

Kashvi was convinced that the old woman was playing tricks on her but increased her pace on the walk back none the less. The road seemed much shorter heading back, and surprisingly it was still five, despite Kashvi feeling like she had been inside for at least an hour.

Kashvi returned to the orphanage, eager to test her new pen. She walked through the door at seven, right on time for curfew. She sat down in her bedroom at her desk when Annabeth’s words started ringing in her head.

“You must never use the pen at night, only during the daytime hours.” Kashvi looked at the pen and wondered if she was joking again. It was the middle of Autumn, the sun was setting, and it was getting dark. Kashvi was sure she could squeeze in one last drawing by nightfall, but she decided not too, despite being skeptical of Annabeth’s warnings. 

Her project was a hit with the caregivers, and Kashvi was happy to have acquired the pen to assist her in completing it.

Several weeks passed, and Kashvi continued to make great use of the pen. Her drawings were more realistic than ever, and the caregivers even hung some of them on the walls. Kashvi was drawing all the time, and she found that she made far fewer mistakes while she did.

The ink flowed from the pen effortlessly, and Kashvi at times felt like the pen was guiding her hand, helping her draw to her very best abilities. She remained skeptical about Annabeth and her warning, but she also stopped using the pen every night around curfew, almost instinctively.

She got a job when she turned 16 and started saving up for the day she would leave the orphanage. Kashvi noticed since receiving the pen, she had been dreaming more often. She would use her dreams as inspiration in her artwork. 

Kashvi found herself often dreaming of a dark-skinned woman, with eyes and hair the color of metallic silver.

She dreamt of her so often that she had started to draw her. She quickly became Kashvi’s favorite subject to draw and her most treasured fictional character.

Kashvi named the silver-haired beauty in her artwork, Mishka.

If Kashvi was upset, she would draw Mishka smiling to cheer herself up. If she was lonely, she drew herself sitting alongside Mishka. Kashvi had even drawn herself with Mishka romantically a time or two. A couple of years passed and Mishka consumed almost all of Kashvi’s drawings, she appeared in the majority of her artwork.

She didn’t think anything of it, she loved drawing Mishka. She would draw her the same age as herself, and would even draw birthday photos of Mishka on the same day as her own.

 It was the day before Kashvi’s eighteenth birthday, and she was feeling more depressed than ever before.

She would be leaving the orphanage tomorrow and starting her new life in the apartment she had saved up for the last two years. The caregivers that raised her had provided her with resources and phone numbers, things to help her stay afloat in the outside world. 

Kashvi was still nervous though and feared to live alone without the familiar sounds of children.

This bothered her deeply, and she cried harder than she ever had, worrying about her future. She decided she would spend the day drawing Mishka on her birthday, maybe it would help her cheer up.

Tears fell upon Kashvi’s drawing as she sat at her desk, but the ink never smeared.

Kashvi let the hours fly by, dwelling on her sadness. She was so invested in the drawing that she did not even notice the sunlight was no longer coming through her windows, and instead, the moon illuminated her bedroom.

She drew Mishka with more detail than she ever had before, putting her heart and soul into the drawing. Hours passed and she grew tired, but the portrait of Mishka was complete. She wore a long silver gown, and held a small cupcake that said “Happy Birthday!”

She was radiant and smiling.

Kashvi smiled at the drawing, and lightly brushed her thumb up against Mishka’s cheek on the paper. She was feeling exhausted, and she reluctantly got into bed dreading her birthday.

Kashvi slept for a little while before slowly waking to the sound of a gentle voice saying her name. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw a blurry silver figure standing before her.

Kashvi sat up abruptly her eyes wide, and standing in front of her was Mishka.

Her silvery eyes were beaming, and she wore a huge smile on her face. “Happy Birthday Kashvi!” she said excitedly. Kashvi could feel the air leave her lungs as she gasped. She fainted, falling back onto the bed.

She woke again to the caregivers in her room telling her that it was time. Kashvi looked all around and when she saw that Mishka was not present, she convinced herself that she must have been dreaming.

 Kashvi had refused a birthday party, she wanted to get the day over as soon as possible.

The caregivers complied, and they drove Kashvi to her new apartment that was paid for and ready for her to move in. They said their goodbyes and left her with all the paperwork and resources she would need to succeed as they put it. It was a tearful farewell. Kashvi always wished she would be saying goodbye as she walked away with her new family, but unfortunately, it was not so.

She entered her apartment closing the door behind her. It was furnished, and she had the things she would need to get by until she could update the furniture and appliances. She was alone, and it was quiet. Kashvi breathed in deep, taking it all in.

There was a moment where she had started to feel like she would be okay until a voice broke the silence and called out to Kashvi from the bedroom.

“It’s so much larger then we thought it was going to be!” it said.

Kashvi froze, she slowly turned to face the hallway, and standing in the doorway illuminated by the light from the window was Mishka.

She ran towards Kashvi with her arms outstretched, her silvery dress flowing gracefully behind her. Kashvi thought she would faint again as she felt Mishka’s arms wrap her up in a tight hug. 

She pulled away and looked into her silvery eyes which beamed with joy and eagerness. “Oh Kashvi, I’m so excited to finally be here with you!” she said cheerfully. Mishka explained that she was brought to life by the pen. 

The old woman’s words from all those years ago came rushing back to Kashvi.

Kashvi reached into her back pocket and felt her purple pen. This must have been what Annabeth meant when she told her not to use the pen after dark. 

Adjusting to life with Mishka was difficult the first few days. Kashvi was unsettled by her presence, despite Mishka being nothing but kind and eager to help.

She would appear once a day when Kashvi was completely alone and would cook, clean, and organize her things. Mishka was talkative and supportive, truly delightful to be around, just the way Kashvi imagined she would be.

Mishka seemed to be trying very hard to be Kashvi’s friend, and eventually, she warmed up to the silver-haired girl. She became Kashvi’s first true friend.

Kashvi began to look forward to coming home and seeing her large silver eyes beaming with joy. A few months passed, and Kashvi was getting used to life in her new apartment. She was feeling happy and peaceful for the first time in years and was grateful to have a friend, even if it was one of her own creation.

She didn’t draw anymore now that Mishka was around, but she still kept the pen on her. She was aware of its power now and did not want to lose it at any cost.

She was growing close to Mishka, and there were times when Kashvi felt like Mishka was flirting with her, but she was too shy to ever confirm. Mishka was a mystery to Kashvi, she insisted that she could be seen by others if she chose to appear to them, but she never did. If Mishka so much as heard the maintenance crew in the hallway or the delivery person, she would disappear for the rest of the day.

She seemed to share a lot of the same interests as Kashvi, in fact, she was exactly the way Kashvi had dreamed her to be. Things were going great between the two of them, even if Kashvi couldn’t really talk about her to anyone else. Who would believe the story about a drawing come to life anyway?

Months turned into years, and Kashvi was now in her mid-twenties, alongside Mishka who seemed to be aging with her. They shared their birthdays together, Kashvi would buy the ingredients and Mishka would make the cake.

Mishka had grown more affectionate towards her, and Kashvi was planning on asking Mishka to be her first girlfriend. The day she planned to ask her had come, and Mishka hadn’t appeared yet.

Kashvi grew a little bored and decided to draw while she waited, for the first time in a long time.

She planned on drawing a rose for Mishka. 

She wasn’t sketching long before she felt someone watching her. It was Mishka.

 She smiled and urged her to continue. She sat across from Kashvi, watching her draw. Kashvi was happy to have her company, but she noticed that Mishka was staring at her the entire time.

This was strange to Kashvi, but it grew even more unsettling when she noticed it wasn’t her that Mishka was staring at, but her pen.

This began to make Kashvi very uncomfortable and she wasn’t sure why. Mishka’s eyes followed Kashvi’s dark violet pen as she drew, with a strange look on her face.

Kashvi put the purple pen away, and Mishka started to behave normally again. She noticed Mishka’s odd behavior whenever she pulled out the pen. Mishka was fixated on the item, much like a cat watching a laser, waiting to swipe at it.

Kashvi has asked Mishka why she seems so interested in the pen many times, but she only smiles back at her, refusing to answer the question. Kashvi does not press her out of fear of making things odd between them. Kashvi really likes Mishka and wants her to stay around, she had grown accustomed to her company.

Still, despite trying to silence it, there was a voice inside of Kashvi that warned her not to let Mishka get ahold of the pen.

Kashvi took to securing the pen inside a wooden lock box in her nightstand while she sleeps. Both can only be accessed by the key that dangles from Kashvi’s neck by a string. Once the pen is placed into the box, Mishka does not even seem to notice the key strung around Kashvi’s neck which opens the box containing the item.

Mishka’s strange fascination with the pen was so off-putting Kashvi decided to only take the pen out on rare occasions, and go back to drawing with regular pens.

Kashvi was horrified when she found that she could not write with any other instrument. This change must have been recent, but Mishka claims not to know anything about it or why this is happening.

Kashvi has tried using pencils, markers, other pens, and it was as though they were all filled with invisible ink. They refuse to write for her. Paintbrushes, feather pens, nothing works. She took to the internet and was relieved when she saw she could still type, but disappointed when she found no information about magic pens.

Kashvi had to keep the pen on her at all times.

Things got even more disturbing for Kashvi when Mishka asked her how she spelled her name and insisted on having it shown to her on paper. Kashvi denied her request and was reminded of Annabeth’s final words.

“Don’t be too eager to sign your name with that pen.“ 

The look on the old woman’s face when Kashvi almost did still haunts her. Kashvi signs her paperwork with K-A-S and refuses to write her entire name with the pen.

anonymous asked:

can I have a scenario where oikawa is flirting with a daughter of Demeter he finds really adorable/pretty and suddenly flowers start sprouting from her skin due to embarrassment and he falls for her more?Maybe in a flower shop she owns?Ily thanks!♡♡

This is such a cute idea! I love children of Demeter, they are just so cute! I love you too sweetheart!

-Admin Lana

It was rare to see such a quaint flower shop flourishing with flowers such as hers, but it was as easy as batting an eyelash for the children of Demeter seeing as how their mother raised them to have a natural green thumb. At every twist and turn, there was an array of beautiful flowers to brighten up the room, but they were nothing compared to your brilliant smile. At least to Oikawa that is. It was ironic to think such a thing considering the demigod thought himself to be the most beautiful being to grace the Earth. He was drawn to your smile and contagious bout of laughter that had him following suit. 

Instead of being behind the counter as he usually found you, he saw you standing at the end of the aisle, ‘feeding’ the fauna, as you had dubbed it. You had opened the males eyes to a new world, discovering that nature sprites (faeries) existed, and how to communicate with animals. He’ll never forget the day he found you surrounded by birds and deer alike. Oikawa supposed that it was your gentle spirit and kind nature that drew him in.

“Hello Oikawa, you’re here just in time. I’d like to show you something.” You greeted, lightly tugging his arm in prompt to follow. Guiding him into the backroom, it revealed a plant with several vines growing from wall to wall, and in the center was a large flower with it’s petals drawn in. “Recently I learned how to speed up the growing process. I know you’re not much of a gardener, but I think it’s interesting to see.” Oikawa couldn’t help the soft expression making it’s way to his face at your growing excitement.

He watched as you approached the fauna with out stretched arms, eyes fluttering shut as you inhaled a deep breath. The next instant could be compared to that of magic. Slowly, the petals of the large flower began to unfurl just as you began to emit a faint green glow, particles of light filling the room as dozens of buds erupted from the vines, growing at an immaculate speed into adulthood. It was as if the breath was stolen from the demigod’s lungs at the sight before him, at it wasn’t the plant he was paying attention to. You looked like a true goddess basked in the light, painting the perfect picture of beauty right before his eyes.

“Isn’t that amaz-Oikawa? Are you alright?” Pausing, you noted the dazed expression and momentarily panicked thinking you had done something to him. Your fear was short lived at his next words.

“By the gods, you’re gorgeous.”

The blood rushed to your cheeks in swirl of heat, unable to keep yourself calm. Covering your mouth, dozens of little flowers began to sprout from your skin in all directions, even a few coming to decorate your hair. Oikawa felt his heart jump, realising that he was falling even deeper for you.

“D-don’t just say things like that!”

“But I meant it,” The male inched closer, fingers gently brushing along the petals on your arm. “You’re beautiful, and if you’d allow me, I want to be your boyfriend.”

This boy was trying to give you a heart attack. A son of Aphrodite truly had feelings for you? “I-I’d love that.”


Angel’s glow at the Battle of Shiloh,

One of the bloodiest battles of the early American Civil War, the Battle of Shiloh in April of 1862 left over 16,000 wounded men on the battlefield.  Due to the inadequacy of medical care, which was completely unprepared in handling mass casualties, many wounded men were left lying on the battlefield for hours, even days.  The area around Shiloh was a very wet, swampy area, and there was constant rain.  Many wounded men lied for hours in fetid mud swampy puddles.  When collecting the wounded, many at Shiloh on both sides noted that countless of the wounded had wounds that would glow a faint green.  In addition, medics and surgeons noted that those who had the glowing wounds tended to have a higher survival rate, tended to heal and recover faster, and tended to have less scarring after the wound had healed.  The mystery of the glowing wounds almost seemed paranormal, a miracle that could only be done by God.  Thus, many referred to the phenomenon that occurred that night as “angel’s glow”. The cause of angel’s glow remained a mystery.

Then in 2001 two teenagers named William Martin and Jonathan Curtis found an answer.  When the two students learned that their microbiologist mother was experimenting with a type of luminescent bacteria called Photorhabdus luminescens, they came up with a theory for their local high school science fair.  After researching P. luminescens and researching the conditions of the Shiloh battlefield, they found an amazing answer.

P. luminescens is a luminescent bacteria that glow faint green when exposed to light and oxygen.  It is commonly found in the gut of small worms called nematodes, which tend to live in wet and muddy areas.   Nematodes feed by burrowing into insects and secreting P. luminescens to kill them.  The nematode then feeds at will.  The wet and swampy conditions at Shiloh, combined with plenty of warm bodies with open wounds were perfect conditions for nematode propagation.  Eventually, wounded soldiers lying in the mud would have picked up theses nematodes and been infected with P. luminescens, causing glowing green wounds.  The cold conditions of Tennessee in the early spring have also helped P. luminescens to grow and propagate as they live better in cold conditions.  While generally, bacterial infections are generally bad for wounds, P. luminescens will fight off other invading bacteria to protect their nematode hosts.  Hence, those infected fared much better than other soldiers who were not. 

I love it when History and Science meld together for a good story.

In All the Right Places: A Fred Weasley Imagine

Requested by grilledcheese-has-feelings:
Can I have a REALLY long Fred Weasley about our life after the battle 

Sorry this took so long! Also, I don’t know how long this is. I made this while on camp. 

I hope you like it! I accept requests!

Things were difficult after the war. No man went unscathed. Scars and wounds from fighting had appeared on once soft, innocent skin. Lives were lost, loved ones dead - faint screams and green lights and nightmares that won’t ever go away. People tried to rebuild themselves, some failed while others succeeded. But life went on. Structures were built and Hogwarts was remade. Children were born and couples married. And love… Love prospered. Families united, bonds mended and friendships established. 

It was difficult to look at a certain area and not immediately associate it with a certain death. It was even harder to face tomorrow without someone beside you. Everyone lost someone in the war - friends, family - there was no exception. She thinks that maybe she lost herself. 

“Hello,” says a voice with no longer the same tone of happiness it once held. She looked at Fred Weasley, studying his features. His eyes no longer had the mischievous glint it was known for. His smile was not as wide, not as sincere. There were bags under his eyes - probably from the nightmares. People had different ways of coping. 

Arthur and Molly Weasley like to hold each other when they were having a bad night. Harry Potter liked to fly, as high as he could manage, with his broom. Hermione Granger loved to read. Ron Weasley indulged in sweets. George Weasley worked on the joke shop. Ginny Potter took hot baths in the middle of the night. Bill Weasley looked at the moon, and Fleur Weasley enjoyed playing the piano. Charlie Weasley watched the dragons. 

Y/N liked stargazing, and, it so happened, so did Fred Weasley. He sits beside her, their bodies touching ever so slightly. 

The outskirts of the Burrow was a beautiful place to be. Molly, bless her soul, insisted that she stay with them after the war because she was family, and Molly needed her family right now. Maybe she did, too. 

“I miss him,” she tells him, as she often did whenever they were together - in this exact, same place. She thought of it as their spot - something only she and Fred shared. 

Sirius Black, who was as close to a father that she had, died protecting her. Harry, brave, kind, Harry, always told her that it was not her fault - his death was not her doing. She never believed him, of course. He was a good liar, after all. 

“I know,” Fred says, “I miss him.” They do not need words to know who the other is talking about. Fred misses Percy Weasley. Like Sirius Black, Percy died saving his brother - his own blood and bone. 

Somehow, their hands find each other, as they usually do. They stare at the sky for a while before curiosity overtakes her with a question she’s been wanting to ask for quite some time, but never really knew how. 

“Why do the stars comfort you?” She asks him quietly. She feels his thumb rub across the back of her hand. 

“The stars?” 

“You always look at them with me. See that one?” She asks him, pointing to a bright star. “That’s Sirius. It helps when I look at it. Do the stars remind you of Percy?” 

“No,” he tells her, kissing her hand softly. 

“Why do the stars comfort you, then?” She demanded, looking at him. She’s shocked. For a moment, just a short moment, she saw his eyes - the exact, same ones that she missed so much. It bloomed, if only for a short while, with a mischievous glint that was all-too familiar. If only a moment, she felt like they were 17 again when the world was simpler and happier and she was her and Fred was Fred. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to go back. 

He remains quiet, looking at her, and she begins to question herself. She might have stepped on forbidden ground. She may have hit a nerve - she didn’t know. It was difficult to walk through a field of mine bombs without one exploding. “I’m so sorr-” 

“Not the stars,” Fred says, almost shyly, and it takes him a few seconds before he finds his voice, “you.” 

“Oh,” she says, unable to comprehend exactly why he would say that. Her cheeks begin to redden, and she holds his hand a little bit tighter - she was afraid that he might just slip away. 

A long, comforting silence overtakes them as they look at the night sky. As the sun begins to rise, he tells her, “I love you. I hope that’s okay.” 

She smiles at him reassuringly, and they watch the sunrise in silence. She realizes, then, that it wasn’t the stars - maybe it never was. 

The first time Fred tells her that he loves her, it’s in the beautiful, peaceful outskirts of the Burrow. 

They move in together after six months of being a couple. The nightmares were too hard to handle on their own. Fred’s are worse than hers, and there are nights when she has to hold him until he falls asleep again. She doesn’t mind, though, because sometimes she hugs him so tight that his bones may break, and his breathing reminds her that he’s alive, and he won’t be going anywhere. Some days are harder than others, and sometimes Fred doesn’t go to work because she’s afraid that he won’t come home. 

Other nights are better than most. They get nice dreams instead of complete, solid darkness. Dreams, Fred admits, that usually involve her and small, tiny feet. Within the course of their relationship, not once did she ever tell him that she loved him back. He makes an effort to tell her as often as he can, but she only kisses him on the cheek and smiles. It was worrying sometimes. 

One night, as they are lying in bed, during one of her bad days, Fred tells her about what once happened during his school days. She’s heard the story countless times before, though. She seems distracted, as she usually was on the worst days. He makes an effort to make her smile, and she makes an effort to do so for him. 

“I love you,” she tells him mid-speech, “so much.” 

He’s smiling now, the biggest smile he could manage, and he’s holding her a little bit tighter, and he kisses her a little bit longer. “Okay,” he replies, and she smiles back at him.

The first time she tells him that she loves him - they’re at home, in their beds, and one of her worst nights quickly becomes one of the best. 

Things were easier after that. Fred’s broken pieces fit perfectly into hers. She smiled again, and so did he - his old, wonderful smile. She remembers the first time she sees it again - she remembers almost crying. She remembers hugging him even tighter because he’s back, oh Merlin, he’s back, and she won’t let him slip away. 

Spending every day with her has been nothing short of wonderful. Sure, they had bad days - every couple did - but they somehow got through them. Fred loved her, with all the love he could give. He loves the way she would hold him so tight that sometimes he bruises. He loves the way she smiles because she smiles so wide that her eyes disappear. He loves her laugh because it’s loud and contagious and wonderful. 

They grow back together - they become happy again. She doesn’t say it very often, but he knows that she loves him back just as much. He can feel it when she holds him at night, he can feel it in her touch, he can feel it in her gaze. Home is a place in her heart. Home is cuddling up to her in bed while she’s reading a book and home is wrapping his arms around her waist. Home is eating breakfast in silence. Home is holding her hand when they walk. Home is her telling him that she loves him. Home is her. 

Home is where the heart is. And every man needed a home. 

Eternity didn’t seem so long if it meant being with her. He looks at her, with her hair a mess and streaks of ruined eyeliner on her face. Morning glories rested themselves on her eyes, and her teeth had some bits of broccoli. He wouldn’t mind waking up to the sight everyday. 

“Marry me,” he tells her and it takes her by surprise. Her coffee mug stops midway to her mouth, and her heart is beating against her chest. 

“Okay,” she tells him after a few moments of stunned silence, as if it was an everyday answer to an everyday question. “I’ll marry you,” the words rolled off her tongue. 

“Okay,” he tells her and she smiles at him. There is no long declaration of unending love. It was very simple, as if he just asked her to go out for coffee with him later today. To be honest, she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

This was theirs. Every item, every inch of space held a memory so beautiful it could be a painting. Every tile gave her comfort. She did not need every man and woman walking in Diagon Alley to know about their love. What she needs is him when they first moved in, and he wanted to carry the heaviest items, and it ended up falling on him. What she needs is him when they decided that they wanted to live in Muggle London because some time from the Wizarding World would do them good. What she needs is him dancing with her until 3 in the morning in the living room, him singing to her on the worst days. 

What she needs is him holding her because she dreamed that Voldemort killed him and he killed her family. What she needs is the Fred looking at her right now, just woken up from a fitful sleep, as if she was the most beautiful woman to walk on this planet. 

What she needs is a Fred Weasley that she wakes up to every morning and sleeps next to every night, a Fred Weasley that loves her and wants to marry her. What she needs is Fred Weasley, with all his faults and imperfections.

He asked her because he needs her. 

She said yes because she needs him. 

They’re going to make it because they need each other.

It was odd, to know that there was a life growing inside of her. She and Fred had been married for five years now and have been trying for a baby for one. She put a hand on her abdomen, feeling fear and happiness at the same time. 

She had her suspicions earlier today when she had vomited out her entire breakfast. Fred wanted to stay with her, to see if she was sick - take care of her if she was, but she knew that he and George were working on a big project, and they needed all the time they could get. She declined his offer, and ushered him out of the house, telling him that she loved him and kissing him on the cheek. 

She didn’t know how to tell him. She’d figure something out, she’s sure. She is a Weasley, after all. 

She wondered if it was he or a she. She wondered if it would have Fred’s eyes. She wanted it to have Fred’s smile, though, and maybe his hair. She’d be very happy if he’d get her eyes. She would be the best mother. And Fred would be the best father and they would be the best family. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” called Fred from the living room, “I’m home.” 

She walked to him, and gives him a peck, knowing what she wanted to do. “Hi, home,” she grinned, “I’m pregnant.” 

It took him a few minutes to respond, to analyze the information. But when he did, he smiled wider than he ever did, and kissed her gently, smiling against her lips, “Hi, pregnant…. I’m Dad.” 

She smiled at him and put her arms around his neck and he spun her around, laughing and singing and shouting. 

Then, without the other knowing, they both promised their child a happy home, filled with love and understanding, without the horrors that they had to face in their own youth. They promised their child that it would never be as broken as they were - they promised their child a happier, safer world than the one they lived in. 

And they promised themselves that they would love each other until their dying day, until their hearts stopped beating and their lungs gave out - and probably even after then. 

I hope you liked it! 

I do requests! :) :)

Michael’s Little Brother Had Been Having Dreams About A Demon, What Happened Next Was Brutal And Terrifying

“Michael… Michael it’s coming for me again.”

“What is?”

“The demon…”

Michael was raised in a Christian fundamentalist home. Coming of age in Rashosha, WI, this was par for the course. Churches lined the streets and were as ubiquitous and homogenized as the McDonald’s and 7/11s that littered the sleepy borough. His parents enshrouded him in a world where angels as well as demons were very real and active forces on human lives. He attended a church in which the pastor would perform exorcisms regularly. People would writhe about and scream in agony as the preacher would enthusiastically thump his Bible and shout with a showman’s charisma.

“Unclean spirit begone!”

The parishioner would then proceed to smile in ecstasy and crumble to the ground as if the heaviest burden had been lifted from their chest. Witnessing this on a regular basis, he became used to the song and dance, and would muse at times at how silly the whole enterprise was. Time had worn down the once burning passion in his soul for religion. At the tender age of thirteen, he was already beginning to regard the world with cynical eyes. That cynicism was beginning to sharply focus on his religious upbringing, but he maintained a modicum of his faith and devotion not out of any true fervor but more so out of habit. He accepted the long shadow that religion and the spiritual cast on his life with a certain malaise.

However, all of the talk about demons and possession began to affect his younger brother deeply; the extent of which would not become clear to him until the most terrifying night of his young life.

His younger brother, Joseph, was the sweetest kid in the world. Joseph had nothing but good will for others. Even though he was only nine years old at the time, an altruism permeated his being far beyond his years. He would go out of his way to share his toys and videogames with Michael. A warm and reciprocal love followed him wherever his two tiny feet would take him.

The evening of June 6th, 2004, began like any other.

It was a Saturday night. The family happily convened for a dinner comprised of a roast lovingly prepared by Mrs. Roberts. As they sat at the kitchen table enjoying the delectable meal and each other’s company, Norman Rockwell himself couldn’t have painted a more accurate portrait of the quiet bliss that the Roberts exuded. The two children were sent off to bed at 9:30 PM in order to be well rested for the early Sunday church service. Michael drifted off to sleep effortlessly to the sound of Joseph’s faint snores as he had already fallen asleep on the other side of their shared bedroom.

Michael awoke sometime past three to a whisper calling his name in a shaky voice.

“Michael… Michael.”

He opened his eyes slowly to see a dark figure standing next to his bed. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and see that it was Joseph waking him with a pallid look of indescribable horror on his face. The sheer terror written on it immediately put him ill at ease. Joseph said to him in a whisper he had to strain to hear.

“Michael, it’s coming for me again.”

Joseph had been having dreams about a demon. He never got a good look at the phantom, but he could hear his shrieking voice and see the incandescent green light it emitted from its dead eyes. It was appearing to him nightly and telling him to do awful things in a high pitched voice that he described as “how a person sounds when they breathe a balloon.”

Joseph said that he would start to pray to God to save him to which the beast would interrupt him by screeching.

“Fuck your God.”

This part especially alarmed Michael. Given their extremely sheltered upbringing, he lived in a house where there was absolutely no cursing allowed, and they hadn’t been exposed to media with obscene language. He was surprised that Joseph had even heard that word before.

Michael would always tell him in his most condescending big brother tone when he brought up the demon: One, it’s only a dream. Two, even if it is real, God would protect him. This had no effect on his demeanor. He was convinced that it would get him, and always thinking of others, he would say.

“After it’s done with me, it’ll get you too.”

As Joseph was standing over Michael’s bed his tiny frame shaking violently with fright, Michael repeated to him that it’s just a dream and to go back to sleep. In a hushed tone with the most fear he had heard and, truthfully, he would ever hear a human voice carry, Joseph said to him.

“It’s not a dream this time. It’s in the closet.”

His body froze. Sweat exploded from his brow. A palpable, insurmountable fear engulfed Michael. The content of what his brother said was enough to put him in that state, but the truly terrifying thing was the certainty in which he said it. He looked Joseph in the eye as his tiny mouth exclaimed from the deepest reaches of his soul.

“Jesus, help me!”

Michael could swear he heard another voice retort to the prayer inside the room. Not a sound with a clearly audible pitch but more like a faintly discernible buzzing, the white noise you hear in the black void of silence at times that can seem just beyond human perception. With a dread that poured over him like an all encompassing shroud, Michael turned his head a millimeter at a time toward the origin of that penetrating sound, the closet.

At first he saw nothing, just blackness. But, before relief could wash over him, he noticed the faintest green light emerging from a crack in the closet. His heart lodged into his throat.

Fear gave way to reason as he reminded himself that Joseph had neon green glow in the dark stickers attached to his coat which hung in the closet. A relief as tangible as the now dissipating fear filled him. His terror and concern for his brother and himself suddenly turned into a venomous rage toward Joseph for scaring him so badly. Michael yelled at Joseph to go back to sleep. He protested, still paralyzed by fear. The anger that had filled him expressed itself as hubris as he climbed out of bed with gusto. Michael confidently walked toward the faint green light in the closet telling Joseph he would open it and show him that there was nothing to be afraid of. Joseph screamed.

“Don’t, don’t! First, it’ll get me, but it’ll get you too”.

As he moved closer to the closet the light started to get faintly brighter. The almost indescribable whirring grew louder. His newfound confidence working his body, Michael reached for the knob of the closet and opened it in one swift movement as the green light engulfed him.

Michael woke up the next day in a state of utter confusion in the hospital. As he was to find out later, his parents came into the bedroom as they heard the blood curdling screams of Joseph. They discovered Michael passed out in front of the closet incapable of waking. Joseph was found crumpled in a heap not much further from him with foam bubbling from his young mouth. Michael was quickly discharged as the doctors could find nothing wrong with him. Joseph, however, was a different story.

The doctors said he had suffered from a grand mal seizure. He was kept in the hospital for a full week under observation. Michael went with his parents to visit him. He overheard them talking to the doctors discussing his prognosis. At the time, he did not really comprehend what they had said. Something about the CAT scan revealing some anomalies, but essentially giving him a clean bill of health. Michael’s parents assured the doctors that the power of prayer had healed him, and that the Lord had told them that he was safe now. The physician gave him some anti-seizure medication and sent him home.

The whole ordeal had taken a monumental toll on the little guy. Poor Joseph was never the same. The sweet and wonderful child that Michael berated but ultimately loved became a sullen, introverted, and selfish person. He grew up to constantly have run-ins with authorities. Trouble in school, juvenile court, you name it. As Michael grew into adulthood and distanced himself even further from his former faith, his thoughts on Joseph’s changed demeanor switched from a supernatural explanation to a psychological one.

In college studying psychology, he heard the story of the man named Phineas Gage who, in a freak accident, had a metal rod impale his frontal lobe. This caused a severe and marked change in his behavior. Essentially, the nicest guy in the world, due to brain damage, became the world’s biggest asshole. This gave him comfort when he came to the conclusion that the anomalies that the CAT scan had revealed were most likely of this sort. This sealed for him a neurological explanation for why his little brother had become an insufferable sociopath.

On March 20th, 2014, almost 10 years after the incident in the bedroom, Michael returned to his parent’s home after attending Joseph’s funeral.

While Michael was away at college, Joseph was dating a lovely girl. Granted, she was much older than him and had a child by another man, but Michael had hopes that having love in his life would change Joseph’s personality for the better. Words cannot describe the shock when Michael received the call from his parents telling him that Joseph was in jail. That he was being accused of murdering Amber, this beaming and lively girl, as well as her young son.

He didn’t go back home for the trial at first. He knew it made him a coward, but he still couldn’t deal with it emotionally. One night he got very drunk and in a morose state read the details of the crime online. Something he came to regret immediately. When he read that her young son was stabbed so many times in the neck that his head accidentally rolled off the gurney as his body was being transported, a little piece of him died.

Michael emboldened himself enough to attend the announcement of the verdict to support his parents. He shuddered as he saw the smug smile that appeared on Joseph’s now haggard face as the verdict of guilty was announced. He stared into his brother’s eyes one last time searching frantically for a semblance of the boy he had once loved. If eyes are the windows to the soul, he was staring into a vacant house, a condemned property. He went back to school to finish the summer term and finally graduate.

Not two weeks after returning to Madison, he received the call. Joseph had hung himself in his jail cell. It was of little surprise that the selfish prick didn’t even have the courtesy to write a suicide note.

As he lay in his childhood bed that evening in the cursed room that had started it all, words filled his head. Words that he had tried so hard to forget and rationalize through the years. It’s Joseph’s sweet, young voice saying repeatedly,

“After it’s done with me, it’ll get you too.”

A faint whirring sound filled the bedroom and grew, ultimately culminating in a high pitched squeal which slowly wormed its way into Michael’s perception. He had heard a similar sound in many quiet moments in his life, but something about this noise was indelible.


He turned to the closet which was now ajar after shutting it tightly an hour prior. A green light engulfed the room as thoughts of murder, pestilence, hate, and destruction became his reality, became his purpose, became his being…

After strolling through the kitchen on feet that no longer belonged to him, he entered his parent’s room. His mother awoke with a start. She gasped as he overtook her. A bloodcurdling scream escaped her mouth as she saw the butcher knife in Michael’s hands. He pinned her down. He swung it downward swiftly as his mother cried out.

“God, help me.”

As the blade pierced her neck, and blood erupted from the wound, he retorted to his mother’s cry.

“Fuck your God.”

For sixpenceee creepypastaisrad fuckyeahspoopyshit and their followers