fall blow out

Small Voices

Pairing: SebaCiel

Warnings: Mention of suicide, mention of sex (brief inclusion just for the plot), angst, depressed thoughts

Word count: 1100+

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11869779

Small voices that tells you what to do, small voices that sometimes overwhelm you..

They murmur against his ear in an unfaltering constant. Right after he woke up, stating how he shouldn’t have; As he ate, warning him about poison that wasn’t even there.. The loudest they are is during every night fall, once the butler blows out the only light illuminating the room and bid his goodbye with a slight bow.

He tried his best to shut them up, he really did; covered both ears with his palms like a child, buried the entirety of his face against his pillow, and burrowed under the thick covers as though hiding from the unknown. Still, they bombarded him with statements that left him paralyzed with fear, informing him how his demon wouldn’t be of use should something decide to grab him and lock him in a cage once more. Saying he was frail, sickly, and most likely would just hurt himself trying to fight back.

That he was alone with his miserable little self once more..

Small voices that just wouldn’t go away, small voices that constantly tries to lead you astray.

Come morning, they start all over again. Each time he fails to accomplish something with the grace of an Earl should have, they tell him it was expected; because he was bound to be a failure from the very start.

Whenever he doubts himself secretly, when that inkling of insecurity starts to gnaw at him, they nod their heads in agreement; telling him that there was a reason why he wasn’t the one who’d originally inherit the title and the manor.

They remind him of how much better his twin could handle any situation, how much more inferior he was compared to him even after his death and despite of what he had to go through just to take his place.

He accepts all of these; because in his mind, they were only stating the truth..

Small voices that won’t let you enjoy, small voices that just aim to destroy..

Even amidst the throes of passion, as he tried to drown out every anguish by completely submitting himself to Sebastian’s hands, they still spectate.

He dug his blunt nails down the demon’s back in hopes of transferring even the slightest bit of his pain and misery, which all proved to be pointless, as they mocked him by mimicking his wanton cries for more, harder, for anything that’ll render him numb even just for a heartbeat.

The peak of his orgasm momentarily silence them, only to venomously retort back once he started coming down from his high. Claiming that that’ll be the best he could ever offer this world; being his demon’s own personal whore..

Small voices that urges you to snap, small voices that tell you to just give up.

They are the very reason as to why he’s in a constant sour mood. Why he blurted out words that made Finny cry and sulk for a day.

“You’re useless..” He said, just like how they constantly do.

“You’re only making things worse.” With this, the poor boy ran away crying, not knowing his master meant to tell that to his own self..

That night he held a mirror in front of his face, his left eye devoid of the usual silk cloth that covers the insignia of his covenant with the devil. The pentagram that signifies his power over a creature much more superior than his kind, his ace, his weapon and his shield..

But no matter how sharp the knife is, if one is not capable enough to wield it then nothing awaits the owner but death..

Sebastian saved the wrong child, he bargained for the wrong soul and asked the wrong one to be his master. His twin would have confidently completed his vengeance by then, would have punished whoever had dared sully his family’s noble line.

He might be the one holding the sharpest, deadliest knife, but he couldn’t even hold it properly as his hands were trembling from all of the doubt and insecurity that the voices had been whispering to him.

Sitting amidst the pristine white bed and the calm silence of the night, he dreaded how the white sheets would be stained red after he was done. What a pain would it be for Sebastian to wash the stains off afterwards.

He held the silver gun tighter, gripping the black handle and placing the weapon parallel to his right temple, with only about a centimeter gap between the nuzzle and his skin.

He had no one to bid his farewell to, no one would mourn his death and grieve his loss, not the people who conveyed their praises and admiration, for they’re the very ones who stabs him with rotten words behind his back.

He closed both eyes, squeezing them tight as hard as how he pulled the trigger, the deafening sound of a gunshot ringing against his ear and tearing the silence apart at its wake.

He expected darkness and eternal numbness.. The lack of pain soon after but alas, none of it came..

He could feel his chest booming, something he should not have been able to, for even a single heartbeat signifies life.

Slowly, he willed himself to open his eyes. The sight of an outstretched arm towards where he had positioned the gun compelled him to roll his eyes up and meet the owner of the unmoving limb.

“Quite the spectacle you tried pulling off, young master.” Said the demon, eyes blazing like hell fire and contrasting the calm tone that he spoke out his words.

“An utter boring end, worthy of someone unlike you, do you think not? I expected more from the prey I’ve chosen to hunt..” He added upon the younger one’s silence, retracting the hand that had caught the bullet through the small gap between the gun and his temple.

He could feel himself trembling, felt like crying only the tears never came, from how close he actually was to ending his own life and from the realization of how the fiend from hell would react from his least clever stunt yet; but any signs with regards to the demon’s violent wrath, like what he was expecting, never came.

Faster than he could ever blink, he was encased tightly within a set of protective arms and under the warm covers once more, back pressed comfortably to the broad chest. He tried wriggling his way to face the demon only to be instructed softly instead.

“Sleep. You’ve had an exhausting day.” The creature whispered against his ear, followed by phrases soaked with honeyed words that a demon should not ever have the audacity to convey with such sincerity as Sebastian just had.

Making his mismatched eyes widen for the small voices halted all of a sudden; can be heard no more as they dulled out and was overwhelmed by his demon’s sonorous voice..

I chose the right band to be obsessed with 

full offence but everything negative people have been saying about young and menace being too “different” is the same stuff people have been saying about fall out boy since at least folie a deux, especially about save rock and roll and ab/ap so like…. chill and let fall out boy blow ur mind with mania like u know they’ve been doing since forever

Ugly Duckling Part 3

Imagine: Telling Reggie she couldn’t like him was the right decision. Right? Just after witnessing her brother fight someone for the first time and have someone confess their love for her, Juni is left completely unsure of her feelings. She was so convinced that she couldn’t like Reggie, after everything she’s gone through. Now, finding herself alone with him, Juni has to figure out how she really feels.

A/N: Here is the third installment of Ugly Duckling! Finally, we are getting somewhere with Reggie and Junie. The next chapter is going to be FULL of fluff. I promise. But it will also be full of angst.Let me know how you’re liking Ugly Duckling. And if you guys want to request another imagine or series requests are open! Check out the request tab for more details. I hope you guys enjoy part three!

Part 1    Part 2


“Did he really say that?” Veronica sits on the end of Betty’s bed and places a hand on my knee. I hug the pillow I’m holding close to my chest and nod numbly.

Betty walks in holding a tray of tea. I gratefully take a mug and take a sip of the warm liquid. Both girls watch me with wide eyes. Betty sighs.“Well, what did you do?”

“I basically freaked out.” Their eyebrows furrowed. I rub my hands across my face. I feel so guilty for yelling at Reggie, it wasn’t fair to take everything out on him, even though he did hit me in the face, albeit accidentally. “I was just so overwhelmed and told him he was delusional for thinking that I could like him after all the bullying and nearly breaking my nose, and now I feel so guilty,”

I take a deep breath after the long winded sentence. Betty wraps an arm around my shoulder and hugs me tight to her side. “Well, Juni, you have nothing to feel guilty about,”

“You don’t owe him anything,” Veronica smiles.

I bow my head and squeeze my eyes shut. “What if I was wrong?”

Both girls fall silent. Veronica blows out her cheeks. “Well, you said it for a reason. You won’t start liking someone just because they told you they like you. Especially with everything that Reggie has done,”

“I know. It’s just his face,” Veronica’s lips pull into a smirk. Betty tilts her head, brows furrowed. “He looked so guilty after he saw me bleeding. Then after I rejected him, he looked so crushed. I don’t know,”

“Here’s the thing, Juni. There is no reason to feel guilt over your feelings. Sometimes love isn’t reciprocated,” Betty closes her eyes and exhales. She pulls me closer. “He’ll get over it,”

“Thanks, Betty. Thank you, both. I don’t know what I would do without you,”


Jughead worries his lip. “What, Jughead?”

“Maybe you should join me and Betty? Help with the Blue and Gold,”

“And be an awkward third wheel? No thanks,” I pat his shoulder.

“Third wheel?” Jughead’s voice raises an octave. My mouth quirks into a smile.

“Go Jughead. I can be left alone. Go hang out with Betty,” Jughead shoves me lightly. Though instead of heading down the hall he stays put, giving me a look. I push him towards the media room. “Go,”

“Fine. Call me if anything happens,”

“Of course, Juggie,” I walk into the student lounge and drop my books onto the table.

The student lounge is different after school. It’s quieter and calmer.  My attention is drawn to the vending machines on the other side of the room. On instinct, my hand moves toward my nose. Flashes of the fight yesterday fill my head. A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. Reggie stands in the doorway looking at his feet. “Hi, Reggie,”

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part ii: rosarium

part i: heri is here

prompt: elriel, slowburn + elain + postcognition, requested by @sncinder !

synopsis:  elain, still in possession of one certain blade, seeks out its owner to make a deliverance.


     Perhaps it is the way Elain paces, slowly, without thought, that makes her heart beat a little faster.

     She turns the blade over in her hands. She turns the world over in her head.

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“I Swear, I’m Not Scared” (Jay Park)

Requested by anon

Full prompt: Can you shut up for five minutes, please??? + I swear, I’m not scared. + I found the candles, we’ll be alright.

Originally posted by jaywalkerzz

    “May the Force-” the line cut short as Star Wars faded to black on the screen and Jay’s apartment was plunged into darkness.

     “Oh my gosh, are you kidding me?” Jay said. “This is the second time this has happened this month.” He rose and walked over to the window. “It’s not even raining! It’s just windy. They said they fixed the problem and the power wouldn’t go out often, but I guess they were wrong. They were probably just trying to save face.”

    You watched, trying not to laugh, as Jay rambled on. “Jay,” you said finally, and he fell silent mid-sentence, looking over at you. “Can you shut up for five minutes, please?”

    “Oh,” he said. “Yeah.”

    You chuckled, shooting him a thumbs-up, and then patted the spot next to you. “You’re not gonna make the power come back on by pacing.”

    “True,” he said, sitting down.

    You pulled out your phone, bringing up an outage map of the area. “Hmm, it says the power should be back by tomorrow morning.”

    “That’s a long ways away,” Jay said, seemingly more to himself than to you.

    “Jay, are you…?” you trailed off and he looked away, saying,

    “I swear, I’m not scared.”

    But you could see right through him and you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “This probably doesn’t happen that much in the city but it happened all the time where I grew up. It’ll be fine.”

    “Okay…” he said hesitantly. You wrapped the blanket around the both of you and Jay rested his head on your shoulder.

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Klaine Advent Drabble - “Emotional Advice - $2″ (Rated PG)

Waiting for his Saturday connection with a lot on his head, Blaine gets some advice from a sage young man on the subway platform. (1749 words)

Written using the Advent Drabble prompts audience, early, guess, hello, kiss, laugh, music, opportunity, part, quirk, and sign. Assumes that Kurt and Blaine were best friends in high school, but never dated, Based on this post.

Read on AO3.

“You look like a man with a lot on his mind.”

Blaine, waiting for his Midtown connection, looks left and right. It’s a Saturday morning. There’s not too many people on this particular platform, not even the usual gaggle of musicians playing for change, so the absence of a person to put the voice to confuses him.

“Hello?” Blaine calls out.

“Over here,” the voice says.

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In my mind, I see James as having ADHD. Both representation-wise for those who also have it, and because it seems indicative of who he is.

  • I see him as this huge sprawling guy who tells a billion jokes and cares immensely about his friends 
  • So that when they’re upset, he wants to be there for them 
  • And sometimes he’s incredibly on point with his advice, but that’s because it’s taken him a long time to work his words out 
  • He’s always trying to pin down all his thoughts and place them somewhere he can read them all
  • But a lot of the time, it all just gets lost or he get distracted
  • And jokes are short little stories, easy to remember and as frantic as him so of course he’s going to tell them and prank people and hope that somehow, this make someone happy or makes them laugh.
  • Most of the time he doesn’t trust himself to do much else. 
  • Constant fidgeter, always messing with his hair and his tie and his shirt-sleeves
  • Always pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose
  • Always laughing before everyone else because he got the joke already or he thought of something funny
  • Always tripping over his words when he’s excited and using his hands to tell the story
  • Always being reminded to take a breath
  • To take his time
  • To remember that there’ll always be ears to listen to him and to straighten him out if he needs it
  • Before the laughter dies down
  • Before his fast-falling comet self blows out completely

I don’t think I can even properly begin to articulate my feelings about Stanford Pines spending thirty years sinking into dissolution and degradation, letting his house and his body and his life go to shit, letting his relationships fall by the wayside, because when it came down to it, he couldn’t save one person, one who mattered so much, so why should he bother trying? Stanford Pines, throwing everything he has into trying to right his greatest mistake, giving up everything else he has in trying to bring his brother back, and hardly even noticing, because it doesn’t matter, none of it matters, he’d only have failed them, lost them, eventually anyway.

And Stanford Pines, trying to keep his great-niblings at arm’s length even though he desperately wants to be close to them, trying to make sure they know right from the start what kind of a person he is so they don’t think he’s a decent guy, knowing he’s done things they’d hate him for if they knew and they’d have every right to. Stanford Pines, keeping secrets, but still trying to warn them, let them down easy, so if - when, it’ll be when, this is going to work, he’s going to pull this off if it’s the last thing he ever does, which it might well be - when they have to hear about what he did to his brother, it won’t be a shock. Stanford Pines trying desperately to simultaneously convince these kids that he’s a conman and a callous jerk who can only be trusted to let them down, and that he loves them and will do anything to protect them, because even though he knows, he knows it’ll only hurt them more in the end if they don’t know what he is, he can’t help but want to be close to them, to want to know they care about him as much as he does about them. Stanford Pines, wanting the twins to know they can rely on him, trust him, even though he himself knows that they can’t.

flickr

Fall Blow Out by cg photography
To me this is fall, the vortex of fall foliage in full blown scale.

STRIPPED BARE - LISTEN

Some really good acoustic versions of songs you may know.

my songs know what you did in the dark - fall out boy / blow - kesha rose sebert / the art of suicide - emilie autumn / good time - owl city / haunted - taylor swift / ghost - halsey / hollywood - marina and the diamonds / born to die - lana del rey / mad girl - emilie autumn / die young - kesha rose sebert / primadonna - marina and the diamonds / chandelier - sia / up and up - relient k / shake it out - florence + the machine / video games - lana del rey / state of grace - taylor swift / icarus - bastille / the mute - radical face / cool kids - echosmith / colors - halsey

based off of jet lag (ft. natasha bedingfield) by simple plan

pic credit

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